ide his door his
care-free note. Ah, yes! "God's in His heaven, all's right with the
world."

The wren's note reminded him of a slender box which always accompanied
his wanderings, and which had come to light rolled in the jacket which
he had given Frale as part of his disguise. He opened it and took
therefrom the joints of a silver flute. How long it had lain untouched!

He fitted the parts and strolled out to the rock, and there, as he gazed
at the shifting, subtle beauty spread all before him and around him, he
lifted the wandlike instrument to his lips and began to play. At first
he only imitated the wren, a few short notes joyously uttered; then, as
the springs of his own happiness welled up within him, he poured forth a
tumultuous flood of trills--a dancing staccato of mounting notes,
shifting and falling, rising, floating away, and then returning in
silvery echoes, bringing their own gladness with them.

The paean of praise ended, the work of the day began, and he set himself
with all the nervous energy of his nature to the finishing of his canvas
room. Again, ere the completion of the task, he found he had been
expending his strength too lavishly, but this time he accepted his
weariness more philosophically, glad if only he might labor and rest as
the need came.

Nearly the whole of the glorious day was still left him. In moving his
couch nearer the door, he found his efforts impeded by some heavy object
underneath it, and discovered, to his surprise and almost dismay, the
identical pigskin valise which Frale had taken away with him the day
before. How came it there? No one, he was certain, had been near his
cabin since Hoyle had trotted home yesterday, hugging his picture to his
breast.

David drew it out into the light and opened it. There on the top lay
the cigars he had placed in the youth's pocket, and there also every
article of wearing apparel he had seen disappear down the laurel-grown
path on Frale's lithe body twelve hours or more ago. He cast the
articles out upon the floor and turned them over wonderingly, then
shoved them aside and lay down for his quiet siesta. He would learn from
Cassandra the meaning of this. He hoped the young man had got off
safely, yet the fact of finding his kindly efforts thus thrust back upon
him disturbed him. Why had it been done? As he pondered thereon, he saw
again the steel-blue flash in the young man's eyes as he turned away,
and resolved to ask no questions, ev