y glowed
and expanded. To go to Hoddy, to smother him with kisses and
embraces in this hour of triumph! To save herself from committing
the act--the thought of which was positive hypnotism--she began the
native dance. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical)
welcomed the diversion. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor,
and imitated the tom-tom. It was a mad half-hour.

"Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was
McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over.

"You read it, Ruth. You're luck."

"Aye!" was McClintock's inaudible affirmative. Luck. The boy would
never know just how lucky he was. Ruth read:

DEAR SIR:

"We are delighted to accept these four stories,
particularly 'The Man Who Could Not Go Home.' We shall be
pleased to see more of your work.

"'The Man Who Could Not Go Home.' Why," said Ruth, "you did not
read that to us."

"Wanted to see if I could turn out one all on my own," replied
Spurlock, looking at McClintock, who nodded slightly. "It was the
story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native
land and wandered strange paths emptily. But never mind that. Come
along home, Ruth. I'm burning to get to work."

After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if
there was the flavour of irony. At least, he would always be able
to take care of Ruth. The Dawn Pearl; how well they had named her!
The pearl without price--his and not his!

He took her arm and drew it under his; and together they went down
the veranda steps. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but
he was too far away in thought to be observant. He saw rifts in
clouds--sunshine. The future was not so black. All the money he
earned--serving McClintock and the muse--could be laid away. Then,
in a few years, he and Ruth might fare forth in comfort and
security. After five or six years it would not be difficult to hide
in Italy or in France. No; the future was not so dark; there was a
bit of dawn visible. If this success continued, it would be easy to
assume the name of Taber. Ruth could not very well object, since an
air of distinction would go with Taber.

Suddenly he felt Ruth swing violently away from him, and he wheeled
to learn the cause.

He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a
winter's road, grim, stony. His gangling body was clothed in rusty
twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the
throat, aroun