ness and thick silence, and the smell of dust
and sunflowers. The brothers followed the road for a mile or more
without finding a place to sit down. Finally, Nils perched on a stile
over the wire fence, and Eric sat on the lower step.

"I began to think you never would come back, Nils," said the boy softly.

"Didn't I promise you I would?"

"Yes; but people don't bother about promises they make to babies. Did
you really know you were going away for good when you went to Chicago
with the cattle that time?"

"I thought it very likely, if I could make my way."

"I don't see how you did it, Nils. Not many fellows could." Eric rubbed
his shoulder against his brother's knee.

"The hard thing was leaving home you and father. It was easy enough,
once I got beyond Chicago. Of course I got awful homesick; used to cry
myself to sleep. But I'd burned my bridges."

"You had always wanted to go, hadn't you?"

"Always. Do you still sleep in our little room? Is that cottonwood still
by the window?"

Eric nodded eagerly and smiled up at his brother in the grey darkness.

"You remember how we always said the leaves were whispering when they
rustled at night? Well, they always whispered to me about the sea.
Sometimes they said names out of the geography books. In a high wind
they had a desperate sound, like someone trying to tear loose."

"How funny, Nils," said Eric dreamily, resting his chin on his hand.
"That tree still talks like that, and 'most always it talks to me about
you."

They sat a while longer, watching the stars. At last Eric whispered
anxiously: "Hadn't we better go back now? Mother will get tired waiting
for us." They rose and took a short cut home, through the pasture.

II

The next morning Nils woke with the first flood of light that came with
dawn. The white-plastered walls of his room reflected the glare that
shone through the thin window shades, and he found it impossible to
sleep. He dressed hurriedly and slipped down the hall and up the back
stairs to the half-story room which he used to share with his little
brother. Eric, in a skimpy nightshirt, was sitting on the edge of the
bed, rubbing his eyes, his pale yellow hair standing up in tufts all
over his head. When he saw Nils, he murmured something confusedly and
hustled his long legs into his trousers. "I didn't expect you'd be up so
early, Nils," he said, as his head emerged from his blue shirt.

"Oh, you thought I