aching locomotive, and in a few minutes it was
slowing up at the long, unroofed platform.

"You two go sit in the chair-car," Cavanaugh directed. "I've got a
cigar, and I'll try the smoker. I'll come back and see you before we get
to Chattanooga."

John led Tilly to the luxurious car in question and helped her in. How
strange it was! But now for the first time, as he saw her seated in the
big revolving-chair in the almost empty car, she seemed all at once to
be in reality his wife. He put his bag and hers into the brass rack
overhead and adjusted the footstool so that she might rest her feet on
it. No living psychologist could have fathomed his emotions. That had
become his which seemed to belong to some outside, ethereal existence.

The train started. John took a chair facing Tilly. When he was not at
work his hands seemed extraneous members, and they now hung down between
his knees as limply as if they had lost all animation.

"You are already homesick," he said, banteringly, though the placid
expression of Tilly's face belied his words.

"No, I am not," she said, a thoughtful smile capturing her mouth and
eyes. "How could I be? John, I'm simply crazy to see that little house.
I've always wanted a home of my own, all my own."

He locked his twisting fingers in sheer delight, and the blood of his
joy warmed his eager face to tenderness. "There is a surprise ahead of
us," he said, chuckling. "I say surprise, for Sam thinks I don't know
it. He has stocked the pantry full of supplies as our wedding-present. I
got on to it by accident. I happened to see one of the bills. Old Sam
doesn't do things by halves. Do you know, he is the best man I ever
knew?"

A newsboy passed through the car, selling magazines and candies. John
bought two flashy periodicals and a box of fresh caramels and put them
into Tilly's lap. With a smile she began to look at the pictures. Some
of the leaves were uncut and he took out his big workman's knife and
clumsily slit them apart. She opened the box of candy, daintily pressed
back the lacelike paper covering, and proffered some to him. He shook
his head. "I never eat it," he said, and then in brooding confusion he
remembered that he had not thanked her.

"I'll never do that kind of thing--never!" he said to himself, in
reckless disgust. "All that tomfoolery is for Joel Eperson and his sort.
I am of a different breed of dogs."

However, his discomfiture was soon dispelled. The rapid rush of