ter put his hand under her chin
and kissed her softly on the forehead when he said good-by at the door.

IV

Rebecca walked rapidly along in the gathering twilight, thinking of the
eventful morrow.

As she approached the turning on the left called the old Milltown
road, she saw a white horse and wagon, driven by a man with a rakish,
flapping, Panama hat, come rapidly around the turn and disappear over
the long hills leading down to the falls. There was no mistaking him;
there never was another Abner Simpson, with his lean height, his bushy
reddish hair, the gay cock of his hat, and the long piratical, upturned
mustaches, which the boys used to say were used as hat-racks by the
Simpson children at night.. The old Milltown road ran past Mrs. Fogg's
house, so he must have left Clara Belle there, and Rebecca's heart
glowed to think that her poor little friend need not miss the raising.

She began to run now, fearful of being late for supper, and covered the
ground to the falls in a brief time. As she crossed the bridge she again
saw Abner Simpson's team, drawn up at the watering trough.

Coming a little nearer, with the view of inquiring for the family, her
quick eye caught sight of something unexpected. A gust of wind blew up
a corner of a linen lap-robe in the back of the wagon, and underneath
it she distinctly saw the white-sheeted bundle that held the flag; the
bundle with a tiny, tiny spot of red bunting peeping out at one corner.
It is true she had eaten, slept, dreamed red, white, and blue for weeks,
but there was no mistaking the evidence of her senses; the idolized
flag, longed for, worked for, sewed for, that flag was in the back of
Abner Simpson's wagon, and if so, what would become of the raising?

Acting on blind impulse, she ran toward the watering-trough, calling out
in her clear treble: "Mr. Simpson! Oh, Mr. Simpson, will you let me ride
a piece with you and hear all about Clara Belle? I'm going part way over
to the Centre on an errand." (So she was; a most important errand,--to
recover the flag of her country at present in the hands of the foe!)

Mr. Simpson turned round in his seat and cried heartily, "Certain sure I
will!" for he liked the fair sex, young and old, and Rebecca had always
been a prime favorite with him. "Climb right in! How's everybody? Glad
to see ye! The folks talk bout ye from sun-up to sun-down, and Clara
Belle can't hardly wait for a sight of ye!"

Rebecca scrambled up, trembli