d, that very evening,
what she was going to do when forced to move. Phinney could not tell
him. Had he gone to find out for himself? Was the mountain at last
coming to Mohammed?

For some minutes Simeon remained where he was, thinking and surmising.
Then he, too, turned and walked cautiously up the Boulevard. He
passed the Williams mansion, its library windows ablaze. He passed
the twenty-five room "cottage" of the gentleman from Chicago. Then
he halted. Opposite him was the little Edwards dwelling and shop. The
curtains were up and there was a lamp burning on the small counter.
Beside the lamp, in a rocking chair, sat Olive Edwards, the widow,
sewing. As he gazed she dropped the sewing in her lap, and raised her
head.

Phinney saw how worn and sad she looked. And yet, how young, considering
her forty years and all she had endured and must endure. She put her
hand over her eyes, then removed it wearily. A lump came in Simeon's
throat. If he might only help her; if SOME ONE might help her in her
lonely misery.

And then, from where he stood in the shadow of the Chicago gentleman's
hedge, he saw a figure step from the shadows fifty feet farther on.
It was Captain Solomon Berry. He walked to the middle of the road
and halted, looking in at Olive. Phinney's heart gave a jump. Was the
Captain going into that house, going to HER, after all these years? WAS
the mountain--

But no. For a full minute the depot master stood, looking in at the
woman by the lamp. Then he jammed his hands into his pockets, wheeled,
and tramped rapidly off toward his home. Simeon Phinney went home, also,
but it was with a heavy heart that he sat down to figure the cost of
moving the Williams "pure Colonial" to its destined location.

CHAPTER IV

THE MAJOR

The depot master and his friend, Mr. Phinney, were not the only ones
whose souls were troubled that evening. Obed Gott, as he stood at the
foot of the stairs leading to the meeting place of the "club," was vexed
and worried. His cousin, Captain Stitt, had gone into the house and up
to his room, and Obed, after seeing him safely on his way, had returned
to the club. But, instead of entering immediately, he stood in the
Higgins doorway, thinking, and frowning as he thought. And the subject
of his thought was the idol of feminine East Harniss, the "old-school
gentleman," Major Cuthbertson Scott Hardee.

The Major first came to East Harniss one balmy morning in March--came,
and crea