imported from
the East. This was the first real library that had ever entered the
State, and, subject for speculation, it had uniformly the front
fly-leaves remaining as mere stubs, as though the pages had been torn
out by a hurried hand. What name was it that had been in those hundreds
of volumes? For what reason had it been so carefully removed? The girl
had often speculated thereon, and fitted theory after theory; but never
yet, wilful as she was, had she had the temerity to ask the only person
who could have given explanation,--Rankin himself.

In common with her sisters everywhere, Florence had an instinctive love
of a fad. Realizing this fact, Scotty was not in the least deceived
when, during a lull at the dinner-table one evening late in the Fall,
she broke in with an irrelevant though seemingly innocent remark.

"I saw several big jack-rabbits when I was out riding this morning." The
dark eyes turned upon her father quizzically, humorously. "They seem to
be very plentiful."

"Yes," said Scotty; "they always are in the Fall."

Florence ate for a moment in silence.

"Did you ever think how much sport we could have if we owned a couple of
hounds?" she asked.

Scotty was silent; but Mollie threw up her hands in horror. "You don't
really mean that you want any of those hungry-looking dogs around, do
you, Flossie?" she protested pettishly. "Seems as though you'd be
satisfied with riding the horses tomboy style without going to hunting
rabbits that way."

The daughter's color heightened and the matter dropped; but Scotty knew
the main attack was yet to come. He had learned from experience the
methods of his daughter in attaining an object.

Later in the evening father and daughter were alone beside a well-shaded
lamp in the cosey sitting-room. Mollie had retired early, complaining of
a headache, and carrying with her an air of martyrdom even more
pronounced than usual; so noticeable, in fact, that, absently watching
the door through which she had left, an expression of positive gloom
formed over Scotty's thin face. Two strong young arms fell suddenly
about his neck and abruptly changed his thoughts. A soft warm cheek was
laid against his own.

"Poor old daddy!" whispered a caressing voice.

For a moment Scotty did not move; then, turning, he looked into the
brown eyes. "Why?" he asked.

"Because,"--her voice was low, her answering look was steady,--"because
it won't be but a little while until he'll have