ht in his mind or he would have
known it would break my heart. Oh, my son, my son, if I could have died
for you."

Sidney came in, clinging to her dress, weeping, imploring her not to
cry, protesting that they never could catch her papa, that he would come
back soon. Hilma took them both, the little child and the broken-down
old woman, in the great embrace of her strong arms, and they all three
sobbed together.

Annixter stood on the porch outside, his back turned, looking straight
before him into the wilderness of dead vines, his teeth shut hard, his
lower lip thrust out.

"I hope S. Behrman is satisfied with all this," he muttered. "I hope he
is satisfied now, damn his soul!"

All at once an idea occurred to him. He turned about and reentered the
room.

"Mrs Dyke," he began, "I want you and Sidney to come over and live at
Quien Sabe. I know--you can't make me believe that the reporters and
officers and officious busy-faces that pretend to offer help just so as
they can satisfy their curiosity aren't nagging you to death. I want you
to let me take care of you and the little tad till all this trouble of
yours is over with. There's plenty of place for you. You can have the
house my wife's people used to live in. You've got to look these things
in the face. What are you going to do to get along? You must be very
short of money. S. Behrman will foreclose on you and take the whole
place in a little while, now. I want you to let me help you, let Hilma
and me be good friends to you. It would be a privilege."

Mrs. Dyke tried bravely to assume her pride, insisting that she could
manage, but her spirit was broken. The whole affair ended unexpectedly,
with Annixter and Hilma bringing Dyke's mother and little girl back to
Quien Sabe in the carry-all.

Mrs. Dyke would not take with her a stick of furniture nor a single
ornament. It would only serve to remind her of a vanished happiness. She
packed a few clothes of her own and Sidney's in a little trunk, Hilma
helping her, and Annixter stowed the trunk under the carry-all's back
seat. Mrs. Dyke turned the key in the door of the house and Annixter
helped her to her seat beside his wife. They drove through the sear,
brown hop vines. At the angle of the road Mrs. Dyke turned around and
looked back at the ruin of the hop ranch, the roof of the house just
showing above the trees. She never saw it again.

As soon as Annixter and Hilma were alone, after their return to Quien
Sa