ue to the puzzle--she refused to give it up.

Then quite privately and uninvited, Jemmy Three began to think. No
one had thought of asking his advice; thinking had never been Jemmy
Three's stronghold.

He went into his grandfather's room one early morning arrayed in his
best clothes. Not much in the way of a "best," but Jemmy had "pieced
out" as well as possible with scraps of his dead father's best that
had been packed away. He looked unduly big and plain and awkward in
the unaccustomed finery, but the freckles across the deep brown
background of his face spelled d-e-t-e-r-m-i-n-a-t-i-o-n. Uncle Jem
spelled it out slowly. His astonished gaze wandered downward, then,
from "best" to "best."

"Well?" he interrogated, and waited.

"I'm goin' to the city, gran'father," the boy said. "I've gotter, on
a--a--errand. I thought I'd tell you."

"Good idea!" nodded the old head on the pillows. The old eyes
twinkled kindly. "I suppose ye want me to go out to your traps, don't
ye? An' do a little trawlin' while I'm out? Jest speak the word!"

Uncle Jemmy said nothing about getting his own dinner, but the boy
had thought of that.

"Judy's comin' in at noon," he explained. "I've got everythin' cooked
up. An' she's goin' to look at my traps when she goes out to hers.
I'll be back in the night, sometime; don't you lay awake for me, now,
gran'father!"

He went out, but presently appeared again, fumbling his best cap in
palpable embarrassment.

"I wish--I don't suppose--you wouldn't mind wishin' me good luck,
gran'father, would you?" he stammered. "I'd kind of like to be wished
good luck."

"Come here where I can reach ye," the old man said cheerily, putting
out his hand. "Wish ye luck? I guess I will! Ye're a good boy, Jemmy.
I don't know what your arrant is, an' I don't need to know, but
here's good luck on it!"

"I tell you what it is, if--if it succeeds," Jem Three said, gripping
the twisted old fingers warmly. "I kind of thought I'd rather not
tell first off. But I can, of course."

"Off with ye, boy! Ye distract me when I'm doin' a bit of thinkin'
for a lady! When ye get good an' ready, then will be time enough to
do your tellin'. Queer if I couldn't trust a Jem!"

The city was twenty miles inland from the little flag-station, and
the flag-station was ten miles away from Jemmy Three. He trudged away
with his precious boots over his shoulder, to be put on at the little
station.

Once in the city, he went directly