re. It was all strange, but explainable if one
considered that Mr. Smith was weak and ill and, perhaps, flighty. She
must not think any more about it now--that is, she must try not to
think. She must not give way, and above all she must not permit her
uncles to suspect that she was troubled. She must try hard to put it
from her mind until Crawford's next letter came.

But that letter did not come. The week passed, then another, but there
was no word from Crawford. Mary's anxiety grew. Each day as Isaiah
brought the mail she expected him to give her an envelope addressed
in the familiar handwriting, but he did not. She was growing
nervous--almost fearful. And then came a happening the shock of which
drove everything else from her mind for the time and substituted for
that fear another.

It was a Tuesday and one o'clock. Mary and Captain Shadrach, having had
an early dinner, had returned to the store. Zoeth, upon their arrival,
went down to the house for his own meal. Business, which had been very
good indeed, was rather slack just then and Shadrach and Mary were
talking together. Suddenly they heard the sound of rapid footsteps in
the lane outside.

"Who's hoofin' it up to the main road at that rate?" demanded the
Captain, lounging lazily toward the window. "Has the town pump got on
fire or is somebody goin' for the doctor?"

He leaned forward to look. His laziness vanished.

"Eh! Jumpin' Judas!" he cried, springing to the door. "It's Isaiah, and
runnin' as if the Old Boy was after him! Here! You! Isaiah! What's the
matter?"

Isaiah pounded up the platform steps and staggered against the doorpost.
His face flamed so red that, as Shadrach said afterward, it was "a
wonder the perspiration didn't bile."

"I--I--I--" he stammered. "I--Oh, dear me! What shall I do? He--he--he's
there on the floor and--and--Oh, my godfreys! I'm all out of wind! What
SHALL I do?"

"Talk!" roared the Captain. "Talk! Use what wind you've got for that!
What's happened? Sing out!"

"He's--he's all alone there!" panted Mr. Chase. "He won't speak,
scurcely--only moans. I don't know's he ain't dead!"

"Who's dead? Who? Who? Who?" The irate Shadrach seized his steward by
the collar and shook him, not too gently. "Who's dead?" he bellowed.
"Somebody will be next door to dead right here in a minute if you don't
speak up instead of snortin' like a puffin' pig. What's happened?"

Isaiah swallowed, gasped and waved a desperate hand. "Let go of