said, like he would come nearer believing; it if he
heard himself pronounce the word.

"I THOUGHT it said 'Paget,'" I gasped, "but I wanted to know if you
thought so too."

"Yes, it's Paget plain enough," said father, but he acted like there
was every possibility that it might change to Jones any minute. "It
says 'Paget,' plain as print."

"Father!" I cried, clutching his arm, "father, see how fat it is!
There must be pages and pages! Father, it wouldn't take all that to
tell her he didn't like her, and he never wanted to see her again.
Would it, father?"

"It doesn't seem probable," said father.

"Father don't you think it means there's been some big mistake, and it
takes so much to tell how it can be fixed?"

"It seems reasonable."

I gripped him tighter, and maybe shook him a little.

"Father!" I cried. "Father, doesn't it just look HURRY, all over?
Can't you speed up a little? They have all day to cool off. Oh
father, won't you speed a little?"

"That I will!" said father. "Get a tight hold, and pray God it is good
word we carry."

"But I prayed the one big prayer to get this," I said. "It wouldn't be
sent if it wasn't good. The thing to do now is to thank the Lord for
'all his loving kindnesses,' like mother said."

"Drive father! Make them go!"

At first he only touched them up; I couldn't see that we were getting
home so fast; but in a minute a cornfield passed like a streak, a piece
of woods flew by a dark blur, a bridge never had time to rattle, and we
began to rock from side to side a little. Then I gripped the top
supports with one hand, the mail with the other, and hung on for dear
life. I took one good look at father.

His feet were on the brace, his face was clear, even white, his eyes
steely, and he never moved a muscle. When Jo thought it was funny,
that he was loose in the pasture, and kicked up a little behind, father
gave him a sharp cut with the whip and said: "Steady boy! Get along
there!"

Sometimes he said, "Aye, aye! Easy!" but he never stopped a mite. We
whizzed past the church and cemetery, and scarcely touched the Big
Hill. People ran to their doors, even to the yards, and I was sure
they thought we were having a runaway, but we were not. Father began
to stop at the lane gate, he pulled all the way past the garden, and it
was as much as he could do to get them slowed down so that I could jump
out by the time we reached the hitching rack. He tied them, and