o follow, I cannot even trust myself to wait for
her. It is better that I should go, better for them, in the study
there, better for the community, for myself, even better for you,
Oliver, I know. Come," he insisted, as the boy still hesitated, "my
confidence in you will be less great if you do not tell me that you
know it also."

"Yes," returned Oliver grudgingly at last. "Yes, I know it too."

They drove away down the rain-washed, empty road with the early
morning wind rushing about their ears. As they climbed to the highest
ridge, Anthony Crawford stood up to look back down the sun-filled,
green length of Medford Valley. Yet he did not speak until they had
reached the station, with the train thundering in just as they drew up
beside the platform.

"Good-by, Oliver," he said briefly.

The boy knew that the word of farewell was not for him but for all
that the man was leaving--friends, memories, the place that he had
loved in his strange, crooked way, all that he was putting behind him
forever. A bell rang, a voice shouted the unintelligible something
that stands for "All aboard," the train ground into motion, and he was
gone.

Almost every one in Medford Valley must have slept that morning
through the long hours until far past noon. But by four o'clock Oliver
had slumbered all his weariness away, and so had Janet. They were
restless after their excitement of the night before, and they found
the house very still and with Cousin Jasper nowhere visible. They went
out to the garage, got into the car, and set off along the familiar
way toward the Windy Hill.

"Just to see if they are there," as Oliver said to Janet.

They came up the slope through the grass and saw the blue wood smoke
rising lazily above them, unmistakable signal that the Beeman was at
work. Polly greeted them gayly, for she, like them, was quite
refreshed by the hours of slumber that had passed. Her father still
looked weary, as though he had spent the interval in troubled thought
rather than sleep, but he hailed them cheerily. All up and down the
hill was a subdued and busy humming, for the day after rain is the
best of all seasons for bees to gather honey.

"We thought we must find out what the storm had done to our hives,"
the Beeman said. "Only three were blown over, but there must have been
a great commotion. Now we have everything set to rights and we are not
in the mood, to tell the truth, for a great deal more work to-day."

"Are you t