hem when they were out getting the eggs together. But Olaf
once saw Eric coming out of Vavrika's house,--the old man had never
asked the boy to come into his saloon,--and Olaf went straight to
his mother and told her. That night Mrs. Ericson came to Eric's room
after he was in bed and made a terrible scene. She could be very
terrifying when she was really angry. She forbade him ever to speak
to Vavrika again, and after that night she would not allow him to go
to town alone. So it was a long while before Eric got any more news
of his brother. But old Joe suspected what was going on, and he
carried Clara's letters about in his pocket. One Sunday he drove out
to see a German friend of his, and chanced to catch sight of Eric,
sitting by the cattle-pond in the big pasture. They went together
into Fritz Oberlies' barn, and read the letters and talked things
over. Eric admitted that things were getting hard for him at home.
That very night old Joe sat down and laboriously penned a statement
of the case to his daughter.

Things got no better for Eric. His mother and Olaf felt that,
however closely he was watched, he still, as they said, "heard."
Mrs. Ericson could not admit neutrality. She had sent Johanna
Vavrika packing back to her brother's, though Olaf would much rather
have kept her than Anders' eldest daughter, whom Mrs. Ericson
installed in her place. He was not so high-handed as his mother, and
he once sulkily told her that she might better have taught her
granddaughter to cook before she sent Johanna away. Olaf could have
borne a good deal for the sake of prunes spiced in honey, the secret
of which Johanna had taken away with her.

At last two letters came to Joe Vavrika: one from Nils, inclosing a
postal order for money to pay Eric's passage to Bergen, and one from
Clara, saying that Nils had a place for Eric in the offices of his
company, that he was to live with them, and that they were only
waiting for him to come. He was to leave New York on one of the
boats of Nils' own line; the captain was one of their friends, and
Eric was to make himself known at once.

Nils' directions were so explicit that a baby could have followed
them, Eric felt. And here he was, nearing Red Oak, Iowa, and rocking
backward and forward in despair. Never had he loved his brother so
much, and never had the big world called to him so hard. But there
was a lump in his throat which would not go down. Ever since
nightfall he had been tormen