n't you?" she stammered. "You aren't the shepherd?"

A sheepskin coat disguised him. The rough hat was of soft drooping
felt, like that of any shepherd watching on the hills, and in his hand
he held a crook. An anxious mother-sheep was sniffing eagerly at his
pockets, remembering gifts of salt.

"Apollo was a shepherd," said Daphne slowly, with wonder in her face.
"He kept the flocks of King Admetus."

"You seem to be well read in the classical dictionary," remarked the
stranger, with twinkling eyes. "You have them in America then?"

He was examining her wrist with practiced fingers, touching it firmly
here and there.

"We have everything in America," said the girl, eyeing him dubiously.

"But no gods except money, I have heard."

"Yes, gods, and impostors too," she answered significantly.

"So I have heard," said Apollo, with composure.

The maddening thing was that she could not look away from him--some
radiance of life in his face compelled her eyes. He had thrown his hat
upon the grass, and the girl could see strength and sweetness and
repose in every line of forehead, lip, and chin. There was pride there,
too, and with it a slight leaning forward of the head.

"I presume that comes from listening to beseeching prayers," she was
thinking to herself.

"Ow!" she remarked suddenly.

"That is the place, is it?"

He drew from one of the pockets of the grotesque coat a piece of
sheepskin, which he proceeded to cut into two strips with his knife.

"It seems to be a very slight sprain," remarked Apollo. "I must
bandage it. Have you any pins about you?"

"Can the gods lack pins?" asked the girl, smiling. She searched, and
found two in her belt, and handed them to him.

"The gods do not explain themselves," he answered, binding the
sheepskin tightly about her wrist.

"So I observe," she remarked dryly.

"Is that right?" he asked. "Now, when you reach home, you must remove
the bandage and hold your hand and wrist first in very hot water, then
in cold. Is there some one who can put the bandage back as I have it?
See, it simply goes about the wrist, and is rather tight. You must
pardon my taking possession of the case, but no one else was near.
Apollo has always been something of a physician, you know."

"You apparently used the same classical dictionary that I did,"
retorted Daphne. "I remember the statement there."

Then she became uncomfortable, and wished her words unsaid, for awe had
com