ungsters of ours? We can't let them grow up here like savages."

Scotty rolled over on his side, and leaned his head comfortably in his
hand.

"I've thought of that," he answered, "and there seems to me only one of
two things to do--either move into civilization, or import a pedagogue."
A pause, and a whimsical inflection came into his voice. "Unfortunately,
however, neither plan seems exactly practical at this time."

Rankin smoked a minute in silence. "How would it do to move into
civilization six months of the year--the Winter six?" he suggested.

Scotty considered for a moment. "Do you mean that seriously?" he asked.

"Yes."

By the sense of feeling alone, the Englishman rolled a cigarette
skilfully. "How about the stock here while we're gone," he said
hesitatingly. "Do you suppose we'd find anything left when we came back
in the Spring?"

Rankin crowded the half-burned tobacco down into the pipe-bowl with his
little finger. "I don't think you got the idea," he explained. "My plan
was for you to go East in the Fall and put the kids in school. I'd stay
here and see that everything ran smoothly while you were gone. Mrs.
Baker has said a dozen times that she wanted a change--for a time,
anyway."

Scotty threw one long leg over the other. "As usual you're right,
Rankin," he said slowly. "The Lord knows Mollie gets restless enough at
times. People were like ants in a hill where she was raised, and that
life was a part of her." He took a last puff at the cigarette, and with
a toss sent the smoking stump spinning like a firefly into the darkness.
"And Flossie can't grow up wild--I know that. I'll talk your suggestion
over with Mollie first, but I think I'd be safe in saying right now
that we'll accept."

For a moment Rankin did not speak; then he knocked the ashes out of his
pipe upon his heel.

"Excuse me if I keep going back to something unpleasant, Baker," he said
slowly, "but in considering the matter there's one thing I don't want
you to forget." Then, after a meaning pause, he went on: "It's the same
reason I had for not introducing Ben in the first place."

Scotty drew out his book of rice-paper again almost involuntarily.

"I'd thought of that this time," he said; then paused to finger a gauzy
sheet absently. "I don't see why I should consider it now,
though--seeing I didn't before."

Rankin said nothing, and conversation lapsed. Irresistibly, but so
gradually as to be all but unconscious, the spiri