beyond
them tumbled the Canaan Tigmores. Canaan, the proud, lay to the West in
a fecund waiting.

"Do you know," said Steering, "I do not like to leave Missouri, Sally,
not even for a little while, not even to show you to Carington and
Elsie. We've no business along with brides and grooms anyway, we've been
married two months. I wish we weren't going to leave Missouri, Sally."

She turned her face up to him banteringly; her travelling hat was in her
hand; above her black gown her bright hair shone with its beautiful
lustres. "They must get along without you here for a little while, Mr.
President of the Canaan Mining and Development Company. I need some
clothes."

"Lay hold on my title gently, please, Mrs. Steering. Every time I hear
it I feel that it needs more glue."

"Mrs. Steering! That's something of a title, too, isn't it? But, after
all, who is so proud of newcome titles as the Superintendent of the
Gulch Mine, Francois Placide DeLassus Bernique, eh, Mistaire Steering?"

"Old chap's satisfaction is good to live in. Oh, we are all happy,
happy! Elsie and Carington seem to be hitting it off well, too, don't
they?" Steering heaved a benevolent sigh, as though he felt that he had
missed something whose missing was little short of escape. He regarded
the magnificent, glowing woman beside him worshipfully. "Hark!" he cried
next, "Piney's happy too, dear boy. That's the best of all! Hear that!"

From the river road below the garden came the sound of the pony's
galloping feet and down by the sheen of the river, the tramp-boy was
outlined presently, a gallant young figure, full of life and fire.

"I'm a-goin' to meet you at the station," he called up to them. "I'm
a-sayin' good-bye to Mizzourah! D'you think Italy's a-goin' to beat
this, Miss Sally?" He indicated the shimmering river, the woods beyond,
the wonderful sky in the west, with a half-homesick gesture, then dashed
on down the river road, gay with anticipation again, carolling the
potato song lustily:

"_The taters grow an' grow, they grow!_"

"That was a fine idea of yours, Sally, to send him to Italy. I suppose
he will have to be disappointed, for Italy, with him, is all
dream-stuff; still, life would never have been fulfilled for Piney
without Italy."

"No, it wouldn't. And he won't be disappointed. You see, it's the music
in him. That will count big some day. And Italy is the place for him to
find himself. He won't be disappointed, and we shan't be