exception of the old stand-by,
shinny, not a single game has come in during the term without his
connivance. Indeed, the born trader's ability in supplying a demand is
exceeded only by his genius in creating it.

Every day Nucky goes down to see Blant, always returning sad,
thoughtful and troubled. "'Pears like he haint able to take no more
interest in nothing, now Rich is gone," he said to me last night; "when
he talks he don't say nothing but 'I have killed the friend of my
bosom,--my heart is broke,--I can't stand to live no longer.'"

_Wednesday._

I stopped the mail-boy again to-day, for news of the Marrs family.
"Things is going mighty bad," he said. "The babe is pindling scandlous,
and its paw is wore to a frazzle tending it of nights, and cooking, and
troubling in his mind. Minervy Saxby allows if Blant don't git back to
that 'ere babe, it'll purely pine to death."

Nucky came out as we talked, and heard the boy's account. He said to me
immediately, "I want to go home Friday."

"You are not strong enough for the walk," I said.

"I've got to go," he declared.

_Saturday Night._

Nucky went home yesterday; and shortly after noon to-day I was surprised
to see him ride down the road in front of the cottage, with a small
bundle held on one arm. I called to him in surprise, and he halted.
"It's the babe,--I brung it to see Blant," he said.

He unwrapped the blanket from the baby's head, and the poor little
creature looked down at me with such big, sad eyes out of a tiny white
face, that my heart was wrung within me.

I went on down to the jail with them. The keeper ushered us into the
large room where Blant sat with the other prisoners (most of them nice
boys, in only for moonshining, or for celebrating Christmas too
enthusiastically); but he sat in a corner alone, while they played cards
around a table.

Nucky went toward Blant with his bundle. "'Pears like the babe will pine
to death for you, Blant," he said, "so I brung her over." He opened the
blanket, and with one ecstatic cry out of utmost depths of suffering,
the little creature sprang forward, and buried her head in Blant's
bosom.

Blant held her close, laid his head upon hers, and burst into a terrible
storm of weeping, a storm that swept everything, and all of us, before
it. Nucky and I wept together, the keeper stood with tears streaming
down his cheeks, the card-playing boys, noisy and careless a moment
before, to a man laid t