on and
contentment. "Then you're to compose yourselves for sleep, and I think
you'll both sleep. To-morrow Dad's to be out on the porch--all June
is out there, and the roses are in full bloom. Day after to-morrow
Mother'll be there, too, in the hammock. As soon as these cases I
operate on this morning are out of danger I'll be down again for a whole
day. I'll keep the time clear."

"I'm afraid," said his father, looking suddenly anxious for a new cause,
"your being up all night won't make your hand any steadier for those
operations, Red."

"On the contrary, as a matter of fact, Dad, it'll be a lot steadier just
because of my being up all night, assuring myself that there's nothing
serious the matter with you and Mother, except the need of a bit of
jollying by your boy--which you've certainly had right off the reel, eh?
Aunt Ellen thinks yet I've probably killed you. Are you the worse for
it, Mother? Give it to me straight, now!"

He bent over her, his fingers on her delicate wrist. She smiled up into
his eyes. "Redfield!" she murmured. "As if I could ever be the worse for
having you come home!"

He dropped on his knees beside the bed, looking at her with the eyes of
the boy she had borne. "Bless me, Mother," he said unsteadily, all the
fun gone out of his face. "I--need it--to keep decent."

The last three words were under his breath, but she heard the others and
laid her hand on the red head with a tremulous soft word or two which
lie could barely catch.

In a minute he had risen, his cheek flushed high, and was gripping
his father's hand. "You, too, Dad," he begged. "I'm only Red this
morning--going back into the world."

His father's hand and voice shook as he administered the little
ceremony, used only once before in his son's life--when at fourteen he
first went away to school. Few grown men would have asked for it again,
he felt that. Coming from Red he was sure the request meant more than
they could know.

Then the professional gentleman whom the world knew--the world which was
not acquainted with Red Pepper Burns--and the professional lady who was
his assistant went decorously away into the early June morning. Zeke was
grinning to himself as he saw them step aboard the train.

"Looks mighty fine in them clipper-built city clothes, Red does," he
reflected. "If that there young woman chose to give him away, now but I
kind of guess she won't--under the circumstances!"

CHAPTER III. IN WHICH HE AS