g in
pursuit of his wife, a sort of mental evolution set in. That
unadaptable focus of his promptly became adaptable. And where it had
been incapable of expansion, it slowly began to expand. It grew, and,
whereas before his Jessie had occupied full place, his twins now
became the central feature.

The original position was largely reversed, but it was chiefly the
growth of the images of his children, and not the diminishing of the
figure of his wife. And with this new aspect came calmness. Nothing
could change his great love for his erring Jessie, nothing could wipe
out his sense of loss; his grief was always with him. But whereas,
judged by the outward seeming of his character, he should have been
crushed under Fate's cruel blow, an inverse process seemed to have set
in. He was lifted, exalted to the almost sublime heights where his
beacon-fire of duty shone.

Yes, but the whole thing was so absurdly twisted. The care of his
children occupied his entire time now, so that his work, in seeking
that which was required to support them, had to be entirely neglected.
He had fifty dollars between him and starvation for his children. Nor
could he see his way to earning more. The struggles of his unpractical
mind were painful. It was a problem quite beyond him. He struggled
nobly with it, but he saw no light ahead, and, with that curious
singleness of purpose that was his, he eventually abandoned the
riddle, and devoted his whole thought to the children. Any other man
would probably have decided to hire himself out to work on the claims
of other men, and so hope to earn sufficient to hire help in the care
of the twins, but not so Scipio. He believed that their future
well-being lay in his claim. If that could not be worked, then there
was no other way.

He had just finished clearing up his hut, and the twins were busy with
their games outside in the sun, aided by their four-legged yellow
companion, whose voice was always to be heard above their excited
squabblings and laughter. So Sunny Oak found things when he slouched
up to the hut with the result of the Trust's overnight meeting in his
pocket.

The loafer came in with a grin of good-nature on his perspiring and
dirty face. He was feeling very self-righteous. It was pleasant to
think he was doing a good work. So much so that the effort of doing it
did not draw the usual protest from him.

He glanced about him with a tolerant eye, feeling that henceforth,
under the gui