ree-legged stool
toward his guest. "I've got something to show you,--something that's
been handed up to me from posterity. How does that strike you for a
starter in the domestic business?"

He drew forward an empty soap-box, fashioned into an old-time cradle,
and fitted with rude rockers at the ends.

"Happy thought--eh?" he rattled on, gleefully pointing to the stenciled
end, where everything but "Pride of the Family" had been carefully
erased. "How's this for a proud prospective paternal?"

He balanced himself on one foot and rocked the little craft, with all
its cargo of pathetic emptiness, gently to and fro.

Enoch's face quivered as if he had been stabbed.

The young fellow stepped back and surveyed his handiwork with jaunty
satisfaction.

"I made that thing just as a bird builds its nest--by paternal instinct.
It's a little previous, and I'd just as soon you wouldn't mention it;
but I had to show it to somebody. Got any children?" he turned upon
Enoch suddenly.

"No. Not any--living."

The old man's voice wavered, and caught itself on the last word.

Jerry thrust the cradle aside hastily.

"Neither have I, uncle, neither have I," he said; "not chick nor child.
If you ain't too tired, let me show you over the house. I'm sorry the
elevator isn't running, so you could go up to the cupolo. This room's a
sort of e pluribus unum, many in one; kind of a boodwar and kitchen
combined. The other rooms ain't inclosed yet, but they're safe enough
outside. That's the advantage of this climate, you don't have to put
everything under cover. Ground-plan suit you pretty well?"

"I think thee's very cosy," Enoch said, smiling gravely; "when does thee
look for thy wife?"

"Just as soon as she's able," said Jerry, drawing an empty nail-keg
confidentially toward Enoch and seating himself; "you see"--

He stopped short. The cradle behind the old man was still rocking
gently.

"I guess it won't be very long," he added indifferently.

III.

The south-bound train was late, and the few loafers who found their
daily excitement in its arrival had drifted away as it grew dark,
leaving no one but Enoch on the platform. When the train whistled the
station agent opened the office door and his kerosene lamp sent a shaft
of light out into the darkness.

There was the usual noisy banter among the trainmen, and none of them
seemed to notice the woman who alighted from the platform of the
passenger coach and came toward Enoch