he trail of the Montgomerys had been the subject of much discussion.
But the situation was clearing in so far as the Holtons were concerned.
William had removed to Chicago to begin life anew; and Jack had vanished
utterly, the day following the collapse of the panic. Charles, too, had
disappeared. It was believed that Kirkwood had recovered enough from
Samuel's associates in the construction company to balance the
deficiencies occasioned by fraudulent construction and that he was not
particularly interested in Charles's whereabouts.

"How about taking a look at the farm?" asked Amzi one Saturday
afternoon. "Fred's planting corn and we'll see how the country looks."

Lois and Phil agreed that this was a capital idea and they set off in
high spirits.

As they approached the farm, Jack Whittlesey, the sheriff, passed on
horseback.

"Looks bad for somebody," said Phil.

"What does?" asked Amzi.

"When Jack goes out on his horse, it's a sign somebody's going to jail."

"Only serving subpoenas, I reckon," said Amzi.

They espied Fred driving a corn-planter across a long level field, and
stopped the car. He ran to the fence to talk to them, and they all
alighted. It was a warm afternoon and he mopped his face with a big
bandanna as he talked to them. He rested his arms on the top rail of the
fence, playing with his cap--not the disreputable old coonskin with
which Phil had become familiar that winter, but the regular Madison
College cap with a scarlet "M" above the visor.

"In the words of the poet," began Phil, "where did you get that hat?"

"This? Oh, the day of the Main Street rumpus I lost mine and one of the
boys lent me his. I meant to get him another, but I haven't been to town
since. And besides, I've forgotten his name."

"That's George Nesbit's cap," Phil answered, after eyeing it critically.
"I know because it's an old style nobody else wore this year. George
lives at the Phi Gam house, if you care for his address."

"I hope you don't know them all as well as that, Phil," remarked Lois.

"She does," chuckled Amzi; "she does, indeed."

Amzi and Fred dealt in technicalities. The green of young wheat caught
the eye in the distances. These were Amzi's acres; the Holton farm lay
beyond--the land that had been Fred's. In February, Phil and Amzi had
driven out one afternoon and had found Fred sowing clover seed over the
snow-covered wheat in his own field. Her imagination took fire at all
these processes. "