some newer sensation. But not so here.
This little town was not so prolific in startling episodes that she
could afford to let such a one pass with anything less than the fullest
comment. The sudden return of Tom Brent, his changed life, and his death
were talked of for many a day. The narrative of his life was yet to be a
stock camp-meeting sermon story, and the next generation of Dexterites
was destined to hear of him. He became a part of the town's municipal
history.

Fred's disappearance elicited no less remark. Speculations as to his
whereabouts and his movements were rife. The storm of gossip which was
going on around them was not lost on Eliphalet Hodges and his wife.
But, save when some too adventurous inquirer called down upon himself
Mrs. Hodges' crushing rebuke or the old man's mild resentment, they went
their ways silent and uncommunicative.

They had heard from the young man first about two weeks after his
departure. He had simply told them that he had got a place in the office
of a packing establishment. Furthermore, he had begged that they let his
former fellow-townsmen know nothing of his doings or of his whereabouts,
and the two old people had religiously respected his wishes. Perhaps
there was some reluctance on the part of Mrs. Hodges, for after the
first letter she said, "It does seem like a sin an' a shame, 'Liphalet,
that we can't tell these here people how nice Fred 's a-doin', so 's to
let 'em know that he don't need none o' their help. It jest makes my
tongue fairly itch when I see Mis' Smith an' that bosom crony o' her'n,
Sallie Martin, a-nosin' around tryin' to see what they kin find out."

"It is amazin' pesterin', Hester. I 'm su'prised at how I feel about it
myself, fur I never was no hand to want to gossip; but when I hear old
Dan'l Hastings, that can't move out o' his cheer fur the
rheumatiz,--when I hear him a-sayin' that he reckoned that Fred was
a-goin' to the dogs, I felt jest like up an' tellin' him how things
was."

"Why on airth did n't you? Ef I 'd 'a' been there, I 'd--"

"But you know what Freddie's letter said. I kept still on that account;
but I tell you I looked at Dan'l." From his pocket the old man took the
missive worn with many readings, and gazed at it fondly. "Yes," he
repeated, "I looked at Dan'l hard. I felt jest like up an' tellin' him."

"Well, no wonder. I 'm afeared I 'd 'a' clean furgot Freddie's wishes
an' told him everything. To think of old Dan'l Hastin