enough for herself and
her brothers and sisters, she orter remember them Beazeley chillern."

"Beazeley children?" I repeated wonderingly.

"Yes; them two little ones, the size of Mirandy; they're Beazeley's."

"Who is Beazeley, and what are his children doing here?"

"Beazeley up and died at the mill, and she bedevilled her father to let
her take his two young 'uns here."

"You don't mean to say that with her other work she's taking care of
other people's children too?"

"Yes, and eddicatin' them."

"Educating them?"

"Yes; teachin' them to read and write and do sums. One of our loggers
ketched her at it when she was keepin' tally."

We were both silent for some moments.

"I suppose you know Johnson?" I said finally.

"Not much."

"But you call here at other times than when you're helping her?"

"Never been in the house before."

He looked slowly around him as he spoke, raising his eyes to the bare
rafters above, and drawing a few long breaths, as if he were inhaling
the aura of some unseen presence. He appeared so perfectly gratified and
contented, and I was so impressed with this humble and silent absorption
of the sacred interior, that I felt vaguely conscious that any
interruption of it was a profanation, and I sat still, gazing at the
dying fire. Presently he arose, stretched out his hand, shook mine
warmly, said, "I reckon I'll meander along," took another long breath,
this time secretly, as if conscious of my eyes, and then slouched
sideways out of the house into the darkness again, where he seemed
suddenly to attain his full height, and so looming, disappeared. I shut
the door, went to bed, and slept soundly.

So soundly that when I awoke the sun was streaming on my bed from the
open door. On the table before me my breakfast was already laid. When I
had dressed and eaten it, struck by the silence, I went to the door and
looked out. 'Dolphus was holding Chu Chu by the reata a few paces from
the cabin.

"Where's Caroline?" I asked.

He pointed to the woods and said: "Over yon: keeping tally."

"Did she leave any message?"

"Said I was to git your mule for you."

"Anything else?"

"Yes; said you was to go."

I went, but not until I had scrawled a few words of thanks on a leaf of
my notebook, which I wrapped about my last Spanish dollar, addressed it
to "Miss Johnson," and laid it upon the table.

*****

It was more than a year later that in the bar-room of the Mariposa Hotel
a hand