Three
cloth-bound rifles he laid aside, and with them a long, very heavy
package tied between two thin wide boards. From this came the metallic
clink. "Oo, I know what dem is!" cried Lee, breaking the silence of
suspense. Then Jean, tearing open a long flat parcel, spread before
the mute, rapt-eyed youngsters such magnificent things, as they had
never dreamed of--picture books, mouth-harps, dolls, a toy gun and a
toy pistol, a wonderful whistle and a fox horn, and last of all a box
of candy. Before these treasures on the floor, too magical to be
touched at first, the two little boys and their sister simply knelt.
That was a sweet, full moment for Jean; yet even that was clouded by
the something which shadowed these innocent children fatefully born in
a wild place at a wild time. Next Jean gave to his sister the presents
he had brought her--beautiful cloth for a dress, ribbons and a bit of
lace, handkerchiefs and buttons and yards of linen, a sewing case and a
whole box of spools of thread, a comb and brush and mirror, and lastly
a Spanish brooch inlaid with garnets. "There, Ann," said Jean, "I
confess I asked a girl friend in Oregon to tell me some things my
sister might like." Manifestly there was not much difference in girls.
Ann seemed stunned by this munificence, and then awakening, she hugged
Jean in a way that took his breath. She was not a child any more, that
was certain. Aunt Mary turned knowing eyes upon Jean. "Reckon you
couldn't have pleased Ann more. She's engaged, Jean, an' where girls
are in that state these things mean a heap.... Ann, you'll be married
in that!" And she pointed to the beautiful folds of material that Ann
had spread out.

"What's this?" demanded Jean. His sister's blushes were enough to
convict her, and they were mightily becoming, too.

"Here, Aunt Mary," went on Jean, "here's yours, an' here's somethin'
for each of my new sisters." This distribution left the women as happy
and occupied, almost, as the children. It left also another package,
the last one in the bundle. Jean laid hold of it and, lifting it, he
was about to speak when he sustained a little shock of memory. Quite
distinctly he saw two little feet, with bare toes peeping out of
worn-out moccasins, and then round, bare, symmetrical ankles that had
been scratched by brush. Next he saw Ellen Jorth's passionate face as
she looked when she had made the violent action so disconcerting to
him. In this happy mom