fire in his eyes.

"I'll expose the scoundrel; I'll show him that he can't rob both the
county and the helpless men that misfortune throws into his hands!" the
colonel declared.

He gave his hand to Joe in his ceremonious fashion.

"I've got some pressing business ahead of me with the sheriff," he said,
"and we'll be going along. But I'll manage to come over every few days
and bring what cheer I can to you, Joe."

"Don't put yourself out," said Joe; "but I'll be mighty glad to see you
any time."

"This is only a cloud in your life, boy; it will pass, and leave your
sky serene and bright," the colonel cheered.

"I'll see how many of the books that you've named we have," said Alice.
"I'm afraid we haven't them all."

"I'll appreciate anything at all," said Joe.

He looked after her as far as his eyes could follow, and then he
listened until her footsteps died, turning his head, checking his
breath, as if holding his very life poised to catch the fading music of
some exquisite strain.

When she was quite out of hearing, he sighed, and marked an imaginary
line upon the wall. Her head had reached to there, just on a level with
a certain bolt. He measured himself against it to see where it struck in
his own height. It was just a boy's trick. He blushed when he found
himself at it.

He sat on his bedside and took up the Book. The humor for reading seemed
to have passed away from him for then. But there was provender for
thought, new thought, splendid and bright-colored. He felt that he had
been associating, for the first time in his life, with his own kind. He
never had seen Alice Price before that day, for their lives had been
separated by all that divides the eminent from the lowly, the rich from
the poor, and seeing her had been a moving revelation. She had come into
his troubled life and soothed it, marking a day never to be forgotten.
He sat there thinking of her, the unopened book in his hand.

How different she was from Ollie, the wild rose clambering unkept beside
the hedge. She was so much more delicate in form and face than
Ollie--Ollie, who--There was a sense of sacrilege in the thought. He
must not name her with Ollie; he must not think of them in the measure
of comparison. Even such juxtaposition was defiling for Alice. Ollie,
the unclean!

Joe got up and walked his cell. How uncouth he was, thought he, his
trousers in his boot-tops, his coat spare upon his growing frame. He
regarded himself with a