trode along the road towards his home. Danny Dolan, who had
been a shameless auditor of this conversation, from the other side of
the wagon, was beside himself with delight:

"Holy Moses! but didn't you give it to the old man. And here be all
your adorers from town after comin' to tea at the house, and you
lookin' like the stoker of an engine with black grease half an inch
thick on your cheek."

Maxwell pulled out his handkerchief, and made an abortive effort to
get his face clean.

"How is it now, Danny?"

"Oh, it 'aint nearly as thick in any one place; it's mostly all over
your face now." Then Danny laughed irreverently again. "Sure, an' you
certainly do look like the real thing now."

Maxwell was raking gravel when the guests for the afternoon tea were
passing; and though he did not look up, he fully realized that they
had recognized him, from the buzz of talk and the turning of heads.

Danny returned from his safer distance when he saw the coast was
clear. Maxwell had a shrewd suspicion that the boy had taken himself
off believing it might embarrass Maxwell less if any of the ladies
should speak to him.

"Did none of 'em know you, then?" he asked.

"Not one of them spoke; I guess my disguise is pretty complete."

"Thank hiven!" Danny exclaimed. "Then the crisis is passed for to-day
at least, and your reputation is saved; but if you don't get out of
this they'll be comin' out again, and then nobody knows what'll
happen. Better smear some more oil over the other cheek to cover the
last bit of dacency left in you."

At the end of the day's work, Maxwell threw his shovel into Dolan's
wagon and jumped up on the seat with him and drove back to town.

"Well," said Maxwell's friend, delightedly, "you done a mighty good
day's work for a tenderfoot; but you done more with that old Bascom
than in all the rest of the day put together. My! but I thought I'd
split my sides to see you puttin' him where he belonged, and you
lookin' like a coal heaver. But it's a howlin' shame you didn't speak
to them women, goin' all rigged up for the party. That would've been
the finishin' touch."

He swayed about on his seat, laughing heartily, until they drew up
before the rectory, where Mrs. Betty was waiting to greet Maxwell.

Danny touched his cap shyly--but Betty came down to the wagon and gave
him a cheery greeting.

"Well--you've brought him back alive, Mr. Dolan, anyway."

"Yes ma'am! And I reckon he'll keep you busy pu