hia; "I 'spect Mart Morley had to get
his livin' somehow. The yaller streak's got the best of him."

Cynthia made no reply. Oddly enough in her fancy she was gazing upon
the portrait of "The Biggest of Them All."

CHAPTER XII

Martin Morley slept, in the clean loft over Marcia Lowe's living-room.
There was a good warm bed there, and before he had gone up the ladder
to his much-needed rest, the little doctor had fed him and given him
hot coffee to drink.

"You are safe," she had comforted him. "God has been good to you,
Martin Morley. Molly is with her mother and, sad as it is, we can do
nothing more for her. Forget it all, and to-morrow you and I will
consider the future."

So Martin slept and slept, and the front door of the cabin was kept
closed and locked.

Refreshed and humble, Martin, on the evening of the following day,
cautiously crept down the ladder from his loft-chamber and tapped upon
the outer door of the cabin.

It was a very smiling and trim little body that welcomed him and bade
him sit down to a table laid for an evening meal.

"You see I've waited for you, Mr. Morley; we have a slice of ham, some
hot biscuits, and baked potatoes. There's a loaf of cake, too, and
coffee and a try at a pudding for which my mother used to be famous."

Every nerve of Martin's starved stomach thrilled, but his eyes did not
meet Marcia Lowe's.

"You are feeling better, Martin Morley?"

"Yes, ma'am; thank you, ma'am."

"Well, then I want you to share my meal."

"I--I ain't worthy, ma'am. I can never pay you, ma'am, for what you've
done and meant to me. I'm ready to go now, ma'am."

"Where, Martin Morley?" The little doctor was pouring the coffee, and
the odour made Morley dizzy with longing.

"I ain't just settled in my mind as to that, ma'am. The world's big,
beyond The Hollow."

"Too big for you, Mr. Morley, until you are yourself--your best self
again. And you can pay me--I have my bill ready."

Martin eyed her furtively and tried to steady his hand as he reached
out for the plate of savoury food she was passing to him. They ate
silently for a while, then Marcia Lowe tried to cheer him by scraps of
gossip that had drifted to her during the day.

"They think you have gone with Teale," she said with a little laugh;
"the idea of your flying off in that company! Have another potato, Mr.
Morley; the staying power of a baked potato is simply marvellous."

When the meal was finished and