with a little smile,--

"Some of your sworn friends?"

"Yes, they're my friends, Uncle Richard," said Noll, expecting every
moment to see Trafford raise his eyes to the houses, which they were
passing, "and they do me a great many favors too."

"In what way?" Trafford was about to ask; but just then he looked up
and about him, and the words died on his lips. Noll paused, waiting in
suspense for what was to come next. His uncle stood still, and looked
for a full minute upon Dirk's house, then cast his eyes up and down
the line of dwellings, while a look of wonder and amazement came over
his face. He turned about, and looked at Noll, who could not, for the
life of him, keep the bright color from creeping up into his cheeks
and over his forehead, and then he looked at the houses again. A
sudden suspicion came into Trafford's mind, and turning his keen eyes
upon Noll, he exclaimed,--

"Can you explain this?"

The nephew hesitated, looked down in some embarrassment, then
gathering sudden courage, looked up and answered, brightly, "Yes,
Uncle Richard, I know all about it."

It was all plain to Trafford then. For a moment his own eyes faltered
and refused to meet Noll's, and he showed some signs of emotion. But
his voice and tone were as calm as ever when he said, a few minutes
after,--

"_You_ did this? How can I believe it? What had you to do with? And
why was I not consulted, if this was your work?"

"Oh, Uncle Richard!" said Noll, quickly, "don't be vexed with me. You
gave me permission to help these Culm people. Don't you remember?"

Trafford made no reply, and again looked at the line of comfortable,
well-repaired houses. There were deeper thoughts and emotions in his
heart at that moment than Noll could know or guess.

The long silence was so uncomfortable that the boy was fain to break
it, with, "I've one more thing to show you, Uncle Richard. It's not
much,--only just a beginning,--but I'd like you to see and know about
it."

Trafford followed, without a word, and Noll led the way to the little
schoolroom, with its two benches and three-legged stool and pile of
well-thumbed primers and spelling-books.

"It's not much," said Noll, apologetically, "but it's a beginning, and
they all know their letters, and some can spell a little."

Trafford evinced no surprise, much to Noll's wonder, and merely asked,
"Where do you find the time?"

"After recitations," replied the nephew;