with him in the morning?"

Caleb Hunter bobbed his head, vehemently. Rapidly he related to her
the episode of the switch engine in Dexter Allison's millyards.

"And I believe what I believe," he insisted, doggedly. "And to-morrow
I aim to give that boy a ride in one of Allison's 'steam injine' cabs,
if it's all I do!"

"I thought so," said Miss Sarah.

For a time she sat there upon his arm chair. Neither spoke, nor felt
the need for words. Just before she rose to go upstairs, she broke
that quiet.

"He has an odd, strange, half-wild beauty," she mused aloud. "A beauty
that is quite unusual, I should say, in children of his--his station.
His hair is silken and, oh so thick! And his eyes and square chin with
that little cleft. And his nose--his nose, I should say, might be said
to denote estheticism--and--a--a--ah----"

Caleb Hunter threw back his head at the telltale little quaver in the
voice and found Sarah Hunter smiling down at him, whimsically.

"Get all the amusement out of it that you can," he invited her.
"And--and trust a woman to take note of such points as you have
mentioned!"

From the stairs she gave him one backward glance.

"Forgive me, Cal," she hogged. "I meant it all--truly! Even the
estheticism, which I only included to tease you. And if you don't want
to trust to a woman's judgment on such points as I have mentioned, I
would suggest that you peep in on him when you retire, and--and confirm
them for yourself."

Hours later Caleb acted upon her suggestion. Every characteristic
which Sarah had mentioned he found and noted in that half-lighted
moment or two while he stood at the bedside.

And he noted more than just that. Sarah's old canvas hunting coat was
folded into a small bundle and lay, guarded by one outflung,
loose-fingered brown hand, beside the sleeping boy's face on the pillow.

Caleb went to bed with a half dozen wild notions whirling in his head,
and a strange something tugging at his heart.

CHAPTER III

THREE QUARTERS AND SIX EIGHTHS

Saturday morning dawned as hot and dry and windless as had been the
other days of the week which had preceded it. Caleb Hunter, rising
from an uneasy night, blamed his sleeplessness upon the weather. It
was fully an hour before his usual, not-too-early hour of rising, when
he slowly descended the wide stairway; and yet he was but little
surprised to find the boy already there before him, seated upon the top
step of the v