egg money will be enough to carry him
through. It won't cost much. If we don't send him, he'll run away. I
know him. He's my boy, and your son, Martin. I won't see him suffer in a
strange world, learning his lessons from bitter experiences. I want him
to be taken care of."

"Very well, have it as you say. I'm not putting anything in the way. I
thought this was his home, but I see it isn't. It isn't a prison. He can
go, and good luck go with him." And after a long silence: "He would tear
down this farm--the best in the county! Tear it down--board from board!"

IX. MARTIN'S SON SHAKES OFF THE DUST

THE very next day, Mrs. Wade rented a room for Bill in the same home in
which Rose boarded, and for the rest of the winter she and Martin went
on as before--working as hard as ever and making money even faster,
while peace settled over their household, a peace so profound that, in
her more intuitive moments, Bill's mother felt in it an ominous quality.

The storm broke with the summer vacation and the boy's point-blank
refusal to return to farm work. His father laid down an ultimatum: until
he came home he should not have a cent even from his mother, and home he
should not come, at all, until he was willing to carry his share of the
farm work willingly, and without further argument. "You see," he pointed
out to his wife, "that's the thanks I get for managing along without
him this winter. The ungrateful young rascal! If he doesn't come to his
senses shortly--"

"Oh, Martin, don't do anything rash," implored Mrs. Wade. "Nearly all
boys go through this period. Just be patient with him."

But even she was shaken when his Aunt Nellie, over ostensibly for an
afternoon of sociable carpet-rag sewing, began abruptly: "Do you know
what Bill is doing, Rose?"

"Working in the mines," returned his mother easily. "Isn't it strange,
Nellie, that he should be digging coal right under this farm, the very
coal that gave Martin his start?"

"Well, I'm not going to beat about the bush," continued her
sister-in-law abruptly. "He's working in the mines all right, but he
isn't digging coal at all, though that would be bad enough. I wouldn't
say a word about it, but I think you ought to know the truth and put a
stop to such a risky business--he's firing shots."

Rose's heart jumped, but she continued to wind up her large ball with
the same uninterrupted motion.

"Are you sure?"

"I made Frank find out for certain. It's an extra dan