h a soft wind out of the west, all the odours of spring on
its breath, and a penitent warmth to apologize for last night's storm.
Stoddard faced his day, and decided that he would begin it with an
early-morning horseback ride. He called up his stable boy over the
telephone, and when Jim brought round Roan Sultan saddled there was a
pause, as of custom, for conversation.

"Heared about the accident over to the Victory, Mr. Stoddard?" Jim
inquired.

"No," said Gray, wheeling sharply. "Anybody hurt?"

"One o' Pap Himes's stepchildren mighty near killed, they say," the boy
told him. "I seen Miss Johnnie Consadine when they was bringing the
little gal down. It seems they sent for her over to Mr. Hardwickses
where she was at."

Gray mounted quickly, settled himself in the saddle, and glanced down
the street which would lead him past Himes's place. For months now, he
had been instinctively avoiding that part of town. Poor Johnnie! She
might be a disappointing character, but he knew well that she was full
of love; he remembered her eyes when, nearly a year ago, up in the mist
and sweetness of April on the Unakas, she had told him of the baby
sister and the other little ones. She must be suffering now. Almost
without reflection he turned his horse's head and rode toward the
forlorn Himes boarding-house.

As he drew near, he noticed a huddled figure at the head of the steps,
and coming up made it out to be Himes himself, sitting, elbows on knees,
staring straight ahead of him. Pap had not undressed at all, but he had
taken out his false teeth "to rest his jaws a spell," as he was in the
habit of doing, and the result was startling. His cheeks were fallen in
to such an extent that the blinking red eyes above looked larger; it was
as though the old rascal's crimes of callous selfishness and greed had
suddenly aged him.

Stoddard pulled in his horse at the foot of the steps.

"I hear one of the little girls was hurt in the mill last night. Was she
badly injured? Which one was it?" he asked abruptly.

"Hit's Deanie. She's all right," mumbled Pap. "Got the whole house
uptore, and Laurelly miscallin' me till I don't know which way to look;
and now the little dickens is a-goin' to git well all right. Chaps is
tough, I tell ye. Ye cain't kill 'em."

"You people must have thought so," said Stoddard, "or you wouldn't have
brought these little ones down and hired them to the cotton mill.
Johnnie knew what that meant."

The word