its in the front of Gale Beacon's box at the
Metropolitan," answered Pan, with a little flute of laughter in his voice
that matched the crimson crests which stood more rampant than ever across
the tips of his ears.

"Why, where--who are you and--" I asked in astonishment as I followed him
into the last of the sunset glow coming across the front of the barn.

CHAPTER VI

"I'm just Adam and I go many places," he answered with more of the
intoxicating crooning laughter.

"Rufus says that red-headed Peckerwoods go to the devil on Fridays," I
retorted to the raillery of the Pan laugh.

"It _was_ Friday and she didn't sing Delilah to my notion. Did she to
yours?" he asked, this time with a smile that was even more interesting
than the laugh. "Come over and sit with me by the spring-house and let's
discuss grand opera while I eat my supper and wait until I think it is safe
to give the ewe some mash.

"I will if you'll invite me to the supper; I can't face another swine and
muffin meal," I answered as I followed him down a path that led west from
the barn-door.

"I've got two apples and a double handful of black walnut kernels. The
drinks from the spring are on you," he answered as he led me down through a
thicket of slim trees that were sending out a queer fragrance to a huge old
stone spring-house from which gushed a stream of water. "Just these two
spring days are bringing out the locust buds almost before time. Smell
'em!" he said as he looked up into the tops of the slim trees, which were
showing a pink-green tinge of color in the red sunset rays.

"Oh," I said softly as I clasped my hands to my breast and breathed in
deep, "I'm glad, glad I didn't have to let them sell it. I love it. I love
it!"

"Sell it?" asked Adam as he brushed a rug of dry leaves from under the
bushes upon one of the huge slabs of rock before the door of the
spring-house for me to sit on, and took two apples from his pocket.

"Yes, and I'll work both my fingers and toes to the bone before I'll give
it up," I answered as I crouched down beside him on the leaves and began to
munch at the apple, which he had polished on the sleeve of his soft, gray,
flannel shirt before he handed it to me.

While we dined on the two red apples, the tangy nuts, and a few hard
crackers that, I think, were dog-biscuits, I told him all about it, up to
my defiance and assumption of the management of Elmnest in the library
after dinner.

"I _can_ keep u