ill supporting him,
stumbled forward across the rows of vegetables.

The two had nearly reached the steps at the end of the porch when
Auntie Sue came from the house to see why Judy did not return with the
potatoes. The dear old lady paused a moment, startled at the presence of
the unprepossessing stranger in her garden. Then, with an exclamation of
pity, she hurried to meet them.

The man, whose gaze as he shambled along was fixed on the ground, did
not notice Auntie Sue until, feeling Judy stop, he also paused, and
raising his head looked full at the beautiful old lady.

"Why, Judy!" cried Auntie Sue, her low, sweet voice filled with gentle
concern. "What in the world has happened?"

With an expression of questioning bewilderment and rebuke on his haggard
face, the man also turned to the mountain girl beside him.

"I found him in er John-boat what done come ashore last night, down
there in the eddy," Judy explained to Auntie Sue. To the man, she said:
"This here is Auntie Sue, mister; but, I don't reckon as how she's got
ary licker for you."

"'Liquor'?" questioned Auntie Sue. "What in the world do you mean,
child?" Then quickly to the stranger;--"My dear man, you are wringing
wet. You must have been in the river. Come, come right in, and let us do
something for you." As she spoke, she went toward him with outstretched
hands.

But the wretched creature shrank back from her, as if in fear;--his
whole body shaking with emotion; his fluttering hands raised in a
gesture of imploring protest;--while the eyes that looked up at the
saintly countenance of the old gentlewoman were the eyes of a soul
sunken in the deepest hell of shame and humiliation.

Shocked with pitying horror, Auntie Sue paused.

The man's haggard, unshaven face twitched and worked with the pain of
his suffering. He bit his lips and fingered his quivering chin in a vain
effort at self-control; and then, as he looked up at her, the sunken,
bloodshot eyes filled with tears that the tormented spirit had no power
to check.

And Auntie Sue turned her face away.

For a little, they stood so. Then, as Auntie Sue faced him again, the
stranger, with a supreme effort of his will, gained a momentary control
of his shattered nerves. Drawing himself erect and standing steady and
tall before her, he raised a hand to his uncovered head as if to remove
his hat. When his hand found no hat to remove, he smiled as if at some
jest at his own expense.

"I am so