is body tied into a double bow-knot. "Gentle breezes; bread upon
the waters! By jiminy, Mr. Rutter, if Mr. Temple could be born
again--figuratively, sir--and I could walk in upon him as I once did,
and find him at breakfast surrounded by all his comforts with Todd
waiting upon him--a very good nigger is Todd, sir--an exCEPtionally
good nigger--I'd--I'd--damn me, Mr. Rutter, I'd--well, sir, there's no
word--but John Gadgem, sir--well, I'll be damned if he wouldn't--" and
he began skipping about the room, both feet in the air, as if he was
a boy of twenty instead of a thin, shambling, badly put together bill
collector in an ill-fitting brown coat, a hat much the worse for wear,
and a red cotton handkerchief addicted to weekly ablutions.

As for Harry the glad news had cleared out wide spaces before him, such
as he had not looked through in years; leafy vistas, with glimpses of
sunlit meadows; shadow-flecked paths leading to manor-houses with summer
skies beyond. He, too, was on his feet, walking restlessly up and down.

Pawson and Gadgem again put their heads together, Harry stopping to
listen. Such expressions as "Certainly," "I think I can": "Yes, of
course it was there when I was last in his place," "Better see him
first," caught his ear.

At last he could stand it no longer. Dr. Teackle or no Dr. Teackle,
he would go upstairs, open the door softly, and if his uncle was awake
whisper the good news in his ear. If anybody had whispered any such
similar good news in his ear on any one of the weary nights he had lain
awake waiting for the dawn, or at any time of the day when he sat his
horse, his rifle across the pommel, it would have made another man of
him.

If his uncle was awake!

He was not only awake, but he was very much alive.

"I've got a great piece of news for you, Uncle George!" Harry shouted
in a rollicking tone, his joy increasing as he noted his uncle's renewed
strength.

"So have I got a great piece of news for you!" was shouted back. "Come
in, you young rascal, and shut that door behind you. She isn't going to
marry Willits. Thrown him over--don't want him--don't love him--can't
love him--never did love him! She's just told me so. Whoop--hurrah! I
Dance, you dog, before I throw this chair at you!!"

There are some moments in a man's life when all language
fails;--pantomime moments, when one stares and tries to speak and stares
again. They were both at it--St. George waiting until Harry should
exp