said Van Dorn. "It'll make you hungrier."

"I suppose Barry's gone home," reflected Perner, "hasn't he, Van, by
this time?"

"Yes; and he lives seven miles beyond the bridge--too far to walk
to-night."

Livingstone paused in his exercise.

"I believe there's one more mail," he said; "isn't there, fellows?"

"Why, yes, that's so!" declared Perner. "And if there isn't, go down
anyway. Maybe somebody's put something in the Colonel's mail-box that we
can eat or sell."

Livingstone disappeared and was gone for some minutes.

"I guess the wolf's got him," said Perner.

Then they heard him coming three steps at a time.

"Bully!" said Van Dorn. "That means a check!"

"A check, sure as the world!" echoed Perner, joyfully.

Livingstone plunged in--his face flushed, his eyes shining, and an open
letter in his hand.

"How much is it?" asked Van Dorn and Perner together.

Livingstone regarded them as if he did not understand.

"How much is what?" he asked--then added joyously: "Oh, yes--oh, no; it
isn't from the 'Decade'--it's--it's a _letter_!"

Van Dorn and Perner rose grimly. Van Dorn's voice was very stern.

"And what do you mean," he demanded, "by looking as you do now over a
letter--simply a _letter_?"

But Livingstone was in no wise daunted.

"Sit down, Van!" he shouted, "you and Perny! I've always wanted to tell
you, and never could quite do it before. Sit down now, and I'll read you
this letter! It's from the girl that sent in our first subscription.
It's the best letter that was ever written--from the best girl that God
ever made!"

XXI

THE LETTER LIVINGSTONE READ

MY OWN DEAR FOOLISH TRUE: I wonder if you think that because
we have all been asleep, dreaming wonderful dreams,--chasing
a rainbow, as you say,--that it is going to make any real
difference in our lives now that we are awake. It may seem
to make differences for a time--trifling differences in
trifling things; it may even give us something to look back
on and laugh about--something in the way of experience that
to such as Van and Perny and yourself may be of use as
material: but as to making any vital difference in whatever
makes life full and beautiful and worth having, and that is
love,--our love for each other, I mean,--why, True, the
very thought of it is so absurd that I try not to be
offended with you for even thinking it.

"Do you remember, True, l