elopment which made them a frequent source of
revenue to the farmer with a stout team of horses. Consequently it was
by train that they arrived at Leighton's home station--a station that
had grown out of all recognition since last he had seen it.

However, he himself had not grown out of recognition. A lank figure of a
man, red-cheeked, white-bearded, slouch-hatted, and in his
shirt-sleeves, stepped forward and held out a horny hand.

"Well, Glen, how be ye? Sure am glad to see ye back."

"Me, too," said Leighton, grinning and flushing with pleasure. "Come
here, Lew. Shake hands with Mr. Tuck."

"Well, I swan!" chuckled William as he crushed Lewis's knuckles. "Guess
you don't recollec' ridin' on my knee, young feller?"

"No, I don't," said Lewis, and smiled into the old man's moist blue
eyes.

"And who he this?" asked William, turning toward Nelton.

"That? Oh, that's Nelton," said Lewis.

"Glad to meet ye, Mr. Nelton. Put it thar!" said William, holding out a
vast hand.

For an instant Nelton paused, then, with set teeth and the air of one
who comes to grips with an electric battery, he laid his fingers in Mr.
Tuck's grasp. "Huh!" remarked William, "ye ain't got much grip. Wait
tell we've stuffed ye with buttermilk 'n' pies 'n' victuals 'n' things."

Nelton said not a word, but cast an agonized look at Leighton, who came
to his aid.

"Now, William, what have you brought down?"

"Well, Glen, there's me an' the kerryall for the folks, an' Silas here
with the spring-wagon for the trunks."

"Good," said Leighton. "Here, Silas, take these checks and look after
Mr. Nelton. Lew and I will go in the carryall."

"Fancy your governor a-pullin' of my leg!" murmured Nelton, presumably
to Lewis, but apparently to space. "Why don't 'e tell this old josser as
I'm a menial, and be done with it."

Old William started, stared at Nelton, then at Leighton. He walked off
toward the carryall, scratching his head.

"What is it?" he asked Lewis, in a loud whisper.

"That's dad's valet," said Lewis, grinning.

"Valley, is it?" said William, glancing over one shoulder. "Nice, lush
bit o' green, to look at him. What does he do?"

"Looks after dad. Waits on him, helps him dress, and packs his bags for
him."

William stopped in his tracks and turned on Leighton.

"Glen," he said, "I don't know ez you c'n stand to ride in the old
kerryall. I ain't brought no sofy pillows, ner even a fire-screen to
keep the sun from sp'ili