ent forward, and descended to the step. The
full flare of moonlight fell on the glowing face of the Girl.

"Harvester, is it you?" she asked.

"Yes," gasped the man.

Two hands came fluttering out, and he just had presence of mind to step
in range so that they rested on his shoulders.

"Has the bluebird come?"

"Not yet!"

"Then I am not too late?"

"Never too late to come to me, Ruth."

"I am welcome?"

"I have no words to tell you how welcome."

She swayed forward and the Harvester tried to reach her lips, but they
brushed his cheek and touched his ear.

"I have brought one more kiss I want to try," she whispered.

The Harvester crushed her in his arms until he frightened himself for
fear he had hurt her, and murmured an ecstasy of indistinct love words
to her. Presently her feet touched the ground and she drew away from
him.

"Harvester," she whispered, "I couldn't wait any longer; indeed I could
not: and I couldn't leave grandfather and grandmother, and I didn't
know what in the world to do, so I just brought them along. Are they
welcome?"

"Aside from you, I would rather have them than any people on earth,"
said the Harvester.

There were two sounds in the car; one was an approving murmur, and the
other an undeniable snort. The Harvester felt the reassuring pressure of
the Girl's hand.

"Please, Ruth," he said, "go turn on the light so that I can see to help
grandmother."

A foot stamped before the front seat. "Madam Herron, if you please!"
cried an acrid voice.

"'Madam Herron,'" said the Harvester gently, as he set a foot on the
step, reached in and bodily picked up a little old lady and started up
the walk with her in his arms.

"Careful there, sir!" roared a voice after him.

The Harvester could feel the quake of the laughing woman and he smiled
broadly as he entered the cabin, and placed her in a large chair before
the fire. Then he wheeled and ran back to the car, reaching it as the
man was making an effort to descend. It could be seen that he had been
tall, before time and sorrow had bent him, and keen eyes gleamed below
shaggy white brows from under his hat brim. He had a white moustache,
and his hair was snowy.

"Allow me," said the Harvester reaching a hand.

"If you touch me I will cane you," said Mr. Alexander Herron.

There was nothing to do but step back. The cane, wheel, and a long coat
skirt interfering, the old man fell headlong, and only quick hands saved
him a sev