se before him had a strange look.
He was wondering if he could be mistaken in the place, after all, when,
his glance roving to the nearest row of trees, he saw an aged man emerge
with his arms full of peaches, which he took to the nearest negro
packer. Dick Wrinkle didn't recognize him under his broad hat and in his
fine clothes, but a thrill went through him when he heard him address
the servant.

"Put these jim-dandies on top with the yaller side up," he commanded.
"They are a lettle mite soft, but they've only got to go over the
mountain. They are for the head boss, an' you'd better pack 'em right.
He's powerful fond o' good ripe peaches. I've seed 'im eat 'em with the
skin on, an', as much as I like 'em, I can't do that. I'd as soon chaw
sandpaper."

"It's Pa," the man at the fence said, in a tone of relief. "I'd know his
voice amongst a million. He looks younger by ten years than he did. I
reckon high living did it. Well, it's my turn at it, an' it won't be
long 'fore I set in. I may have trouble at the start, but I'll weather
the storm. I know who I'm dealing with. I didn't live with 'er as long
as I did without learning a few things."

Dropping his bag over the fence, he climbed over after it. He stood for
a moment, hesitatingly, and then, taking out his pocket-handkerchief, he
flicked the dust off his coat and trousers and new shoes. He was well
and rather tastily attired. He was shaved, and his scant hair showed
that it had been brushed. He wore a heavy gold chain, which had a
prosperous look stretching across his black waistcoat. The old man had
turned back toward the trees, and, without being noticed by the active
packers, his son followed him, bag in hand. Old Jason, his eyes raised
in searching for the choicest fruit among the low branches of the trees,
did not see his son till he was close behind him.

"Now, Pa," Dick Wrinkle began, calmly enough, "don't jump out o' your
hide. Reports to the contrary, I'm alive and kicking."

Turning at the sound of the familiar voice, the old man started, an
exclamation, half of fear, half of gratified wonder, escaping his lips.
He stared fixedly, and his mouth fell open, exposing his quid of
tobacco. The peaches in his hands rolled to the ground, and, utterly
bewildered, he stooped as if to pick them up, but paused and stared
again. "Lord, have mercy!" he cried. "Lord, have mercy, who'd have
dreamt it--you back--you--you here! Why, we all heard--we all 'lowed--we
a