no deceivin' 'bout this. He don'
know I know he's goin' to run away, so he's all square; and he never
told me nothin' 'bout his plans, so I'm all square; and Miss Vildy's
good as eighteen-karat gold when she gets roun' to it, so she'll be all
square; and Samanthy's got her blinders on 'n' don't see nothin' to the
right nor to the left, so she's all square. And I ain't inteferin' with
nobody. I'm jest lettin' things go the way they've started, 'n' stan'in'
to one side to see whar they'll fetch up, kind o' like Providence. I'm
leavin' Miss Vildy a free agent, but I'm shapin' circumstances so 's to
give her a chance. But, land! if I'd fixed up the thing to suit myself I
couldn't 'a' managed it as Timothy hez, 'thout knowin' that he was
managin' anything. Look at that letter bizness now! I couldn't 'a' writ
that letter better myself! And the sperrit o' the little feller, jest
takin' his dorg 'n' lightin' out with nothin' but a perlite good-bye!
Well I can't stop to talk no more 'bout it now, or we won't ketch him,
but we'll jest try Wilkins's Woods, Maria, 'n' see how that goes. The
river road leads to Edgewood 'n' Hillside, whar there's consid'able
hayin' bein' done, as I happened to mention to Timothy this afternoon;
and plenty o' blackberries 'side the road, 'specially after you pass the
wood-pile on the left-hand side, whar there's a reg'lar garding of 'em
right 'side of an old hoss-blanket that's layin' there; one that I
happened to leave there one time when I was sleepin' ou'doors for my
health, and that was this afternoon 'bout five o'clock, so I guess it
hain't changed its location sence."

Jabe and Miss Vilda drove in silence along the river road that skirted
Wilkins's Woods, a place where Jabe had taken Timothy more than once, so
he informed Miss Vilda, and a likely road for him to travel if he were
on his way to some of the near villages.

Poor Miss Vilda! Fifty years old, and in twenty summers and winters
scarcely one lovely thought had blossomed into lovelier deed and shed
its sweetness over her arid and colorless life. And now, under the magic
spell of tender little hands and innocent lips, of luminous eyes that
looked wistfully into hers for a welcome, and the touch of a groping
helplessness that fastened upon her strength, the woman in her woke into
life, and the beauty and fragrance of long-ago summers came back again
as in a dream.

After having driven three or four miles, they heard a melancholy soun