tapped a letter he held
up. "In this one, I've written what your uncle did to me. Give it to
Grandoken, telling him I said to let it remain sealed unless Jordan
Morse claims you. If you reach eighteen safely, burn the letter."

He paused and took out a pocketbook.

"Money is scarce these days, but take this and it'll get you to
Grandoken's. It's all I have, anyway. Now go along to bed."

He handed the envelopes to her, and his hand came in contact with
hers. The very touch of it, the warmth and life surging through her,
gave a keener edge to his misery.

Virginia took the letters and money. She walked slowly to the door. At
the threshold she halted, turning to her father.

"May I take the cats with me?" she called back to him.

She started to explain, but he cut her words off with a fierce
ejaculation.

"Hell, yes!" he snapped. "Damn the cats! Get out!"

Once in the hall, Virginia stood and looked back upon the closed
door.

"I guess he don't need me to teach him swear words," she told herself
in a whisper.

Then she went down to the kitchen, where Matty sat dreaming over a
wood fire.

CHAPTER II

A WHITE PRESENCE

"Does yer pa want me?" grunted Matty, lifting a tousled black head.

Virginia made a gesture of negation.

"No, he told me to get the hell out," she answered. "So I got! He's
awful sick! I guess mebbe he'll die!"

Matty nodded meaningly.

"Some folks might better 'a' stayed to hum for the past ten years than
be runnin' wild over the country like mad," she observed.

Virginia reached behind the stove and drew Milly Ann from her bed.

"Father"--Jinnie enjoyed using the word and spoke it lingeringly--"says he
wishes he'd stayed here now. You know, my Uncle Jordan, Matty----" She
hesitated to confide in the negro woman what her father had told her. So
she contented herself with:

"He's coming here soon."

Matty rolled her eyes toward the girl.

"I'se sorry for that, honey bunch." Then, without explaining her
words, asked: "Want me to finish about Jonathan Woggles' grandpa
dyin'?"

But Virginia's mind was traveling in another channel.

"Where's Bellaire, Matty?" she demanded.

"Off south," replied the woman, "right bearin' south."

"By train?"

"Yes, the same's walkin' or flying'," confirmed Matty. "Jest the
same."

"Then you can finish the story now, Matty," said Virginia presently.

Matty settled back in her chair, closed her eyes, and began to hum.

"How far'd