at Miss Maitland's back garden
fence. From there he meant to make his own rapid transit to his
grandmother's low kitchen roof and through a window to his bed, as he
fondly hoped, forgotten and unobserved. He didn't intend that any
strange girl should throw all his plans agley, for she had done more
than mischief enough already. Yet even as he spoke, he looked furtively
around and was dismayed to see how white she was, and how big and
troubled her dark eyes were. Fudge! They were even larger and finer than
his own blue ones, yet she had not once seemed conscious of the fact.

It was the Madam's opinion that "blood would tell," and the good blood
of many past Sturtevants stirred now in their descendant's veins,
rousing his unselfishness, and making him say:

"F-f-fudge! You look b-b-beat out. I'll go the road, all right. I don't
m-m-m-mind it--m-m-much, not much;" for even chivalry could not prevent
this last truthful word of regret.

So by the road they went; and by the road--retribution came. Nemesis in
the form of Moses Jones; no longer in a mood to be "uncled" by any boy,
not even Montgomery, and in his sternness grown almost unfamiliar. He
was not alone. Two neighbors were with him, and, despite the fact that
the moon was shining, all three men carried lighted lanterns. They were
overcoated and muffled to a degree, and Moses' first action was to
unfold a great shawl which he had carried on his shoulder, and wrap Kate
in it. He did this in silence, not so much as asking "by your leave,"
and not observing that he was smothering her at the same time. Then he
took hold of her arm through the folds of the shawl, and, facing about,
started back along the route he had come.

They were well outside the village limits, and a weary tramp yet lay
before them, the longer strides of the men taxing the fatigue of the
children, till it seemed to them both as if they must fall by the way.
That terrible silence, too, and the firm grip of her arm, made Kate
wonder if Mr. Jones had suddenly become a constable in fact, and if she
were the first victim to be arrested. Once she wriggled herself free
from her captor's hand, only to find herself again secured and even more
rigidly.

As for poor Montgomery, the pain and confusion had returned, and he
could think of nothing save that tormenting headache. His temple was
swollen and throbbing, and the one idea he still retained was a longing
for rest. It seemed to him that he had been hur