eaking through them. And perhaps he saw the
necessity of some such course in the case of Seth and Rosebud. Anyway, he
was not beaten yet.

The last of the refugees had left the farm. Seth had been assisting in the
departure of the various families. It was a sad day's work, and no one
realized the pathos of it more than the silent plainsman. He had given his
little all to the general welfare, but he had been incapable of saving the
homes that had been built up with so much self-denial, so much thrift. All
he could do was to wish the departing folk Godspeed with an accompaniment
of cheery words, which, perhaps, may have helped to lighten the burden of
some of them. The burden he knew was a heavy one in all cases, but heavier
in some than others, for Death had claimed his toll, and at such a time
the tax fell doubly heavy.

It was over. He had just seen the last wagon drop below the horizon. Now
he turned away with a sigh and surveyed the ruin around him. He walked
from place to place, inspecting each outbuilding with a measuring eye.
There were weeks of labor before him, and all labor that would return no
profit. It was a fitting conclusion to a sad day's work.

But he was not given to morbid sentiment, and as he inspected each result
of the siege he settled in his mind the order of the work as it must be
done. A setback like this had only a stimulating effect on his spirit.
The summer lay before him, and he knew that by winter he could have
everything restored to order.

At the barn he made the horses snug for the night, and then, taking up his
favorite position on the oat-bin at the open doorway, lit his pipe for a
quiet think. He was wholly responsible while Rube was ill.

Sitting there in the golden light of the setting sun, he was presently
disturbed by the approach of light footsteps. It was an unusually gay
voice that greeted him when he looked up, and eyes that were brighter, and
more deeply violet than ever.

Had he given thought to these things he might have realized that there was
something artificial in Rosebud's manner, something that told of unusual
excitement going on in her bosom. But then Seth, with all his keenness in
other things, was not the cleverest of men where women were concerned.
Ma's opinion of him was wonderfully accurate.

"Oh, Seth, I just came to tell you! Fancy, no sooner is one excitement
over than another begins. I've just learned that Pa and Ma are going to
give up this farm. We a