in my life."

"Git on my back an' I'll carry yer."

"I ain't tired in my legs, Hunch. I kin walk."

Taking Blind Benner's hand, Hunch led him down into the deepening shadow
of the valley.

CHAPTER VII.

BILL KELLAR.

"He is coaxing again, that violin-loving devil."

New Year's Eve had come, and Bill Kellar sat before a log-fire in his
sitting-room, glad that he had given his violin into Lizzi's charge the
night of her birthday ball. Since then he had not seen it, though his
fingers had often itched for the strings, and his arm longed for the
bow.

"He is there, the red salamander; and already his tempting has ceased.
Now he commands. Soon he will threaten. Well, let him; I will not give
up this time."

Bill looked resolutely into the fire, as if resolved to stare the
tempter out of countenance. He ran his thin hand through his long hair,
and seemed quite satisfied with his powers of resistance.

"Lord! what is that?" he cried suddenly, and started to his feet. For a
while he was motionless, gazing at the flames leaping up the chimney.
Presently he muttered, "Sure as I live, the devil wears a mask, and a
queer one. The eyes are curiously long with curving corners, and set up
and down in his face. The nose is long, with a high bridge. The chin is
turned up, and has fiddle-screws through it. The devil holds a
violin-bow in one hand, and in the other a scourge of fiddle-strings.
Something has happened to my fiddle, my dear old violin."

He covered his face with his hands, and wept convulsively.

"I thought my fiddle would be as safe in Lizzi's keeping as her honor."

His clock struck ten.

"I will have to go." The resolution formed, he removed his hands from
his face, and dried his tears on a bandanna handkerchief. Then he
continued the soliloquy.

"I meant to fight it out this time, and let Satan go without his New
Year's dance. I could have sat here until morning and shaken with
chills-and-fever until my teeth dropped out; but I can't stand this
uncertainty about the fate of my violin. This suspense would make me
mad--madder far than the noises of the city would have done; madder than
crazy Lear; crazier far than that lunatic Bill Kellar has ever been."

"Yes, you soul-thief, redder than the flames around you. I will go to
see the waif, my child that I abandoned for fear of you and your
shivers; and if it is well with the darling, you know you will get your
annual Harvest dance. For I must needs ca