and he
rowed very slowly.

The girl was looking away somewhere with a mystic, shining glance. She
leaned her chin in her hand. Hawker, facing her, merely paddled
subconsciously. He seemed greatly impressed and expectant.

At last she spoke very slowly. "I wish I knew Mr. Oglethorpe was not
going to disappoint us."

Hawker said, "Why, no, I imagine not."

"Well, he is a trifle uncertain in matters of time. The children--and
all of us--shall be anxious. I know you will like him."

CHAPTER IX.

"Eh?" said Hollanden. "Oglethorpe? Oglethorpe? Why, he's that friend of
the Fanhalls! Yes, of course, I know him! Deuced good fellow, too! What
about him?"

"Oh, nothing, only he's coming here to-morrow," answered Hawker. "What
kind of a fellow did you say he was?"

"Deuced good fellow! What are you so---- Say, by the nine mad
blacksmiths of Donawhiroo, he's your rival! Why, of course! Glory, but I
must be thick-headed to-night!"

Hawker said, "Where's your tobacco?"

"Yonder, in that jar. Got a pipe?"

"Yes. How do you know he's my rival?"

"Know it? Why, hasn't he been---- Say, this is getting thrilling!"
Hollanden sprang to his feet and, filling a pipe, flung himself into the
chair and began to rock himself madly to and fro. He puffed clouds of
smoke.

Hawker stood with his face in shadow. At last he said, in tones of deep
weariness, "Well, I think I'd better be going home and turning in."

"Hold on!" Hollanden exclaimed, turning his eyes from a prolonged stare
at the ceiling, "don't go yet! Why, man, this is just the time when----
Say, who would ever think of Jem Oglethorpe's turning up to harrie you!
Just at this time, too!"

"Oh," cried Hawker suddenly, filled with rage, "you remind me of an
accursed duffer! Why can't you tell me something about the man, instead
of sitting there and gibbering those crazy things at the ceiling?"

"By the piper----"

"Oh, shut up! Tell me something about Oglethorpe, can't you? I want to
hear about him. Quit all that other business!"

"Why, Jem Oglethorpe, he--why, say, he's one of the best fellows going.
If he were only an ass! If he were only an ass, now, you could feel easy
in your mind. But he isn't. No, indeed. Why, blast him, there isn't a
man that knows him who doesn't like Jem Oglethorpe! Excepting the
chumps!"

The window of the little room was open, and the voices of the pines
could be heard as they sang of their long sorrow. Hawker pulled a chair
clo