ll my money to mother. But you go to the back
gate. Ask for Joyce. She'll give you a nice warm meal every day. Go
with him, Mr. Reybold! If you ask for him it will be all right; for
Joyce--dear Joyce!--she loves you."

The beach birds played again along the strand; the boy ran into the
foam with his companions and felt the spray once more. The Mighty
Hunter shot his bird--a little cripple that twittered the sweetest of
them all. Nothing moved in the solemn chamber of the committee but the
voice of an old forsaken man, sobbing bitterly.

IV--CAKE

The funeral was over, and Mr. Reybold marveled much that the Judge had
not put in an appearance. The whole committee had attended the
obsequies of Crutch and acted as pall-bearers. Reybold had escorted the
page's sister to the Congressional cemetery, and had observed even old
Beau to come with a wreath of flowers and hobble to the grave and
deposit them there. But the Judge, remorseless in death as frivolous in
life, never came near his mourning wife and daughter in their severest
sorrow. Mrs. Tryphonia Basil, seeing that this singular want of
behavior on the Judge's part was making some ado, raised her voice
above the general din of meals.

"Jedge Basil," she exclaimed, "has been on his Tennessee purchase.
These Christmas times there's no getting through the snow in the
Cumberland Gap. He's stopped off thaw to shoot the--ahem!--the wild
torkey--a great passion with the Jedge. His half-uncle, Gineral
Johnson, of Awkinso, was a torkey-killer of high celebrity. He was a
Deshay on his Maw's side. I s'pose you haven't the torkey in the Dutch
country, Mr. Reybold?"

"Madame," said Reybold, in a quieter moment, "have you written to the
Judge the fact of his son's death?"

"Oh, yes--to Fawquear."

"Mrs. Basil," continued the Congressman, "I want you to be explicit
with me. Where is the Judge, your husband, at this moment?"

"Excuse me, Colonel Reybold, this is a little of a assumption, sir. The
Jedge might call you out, sir, for intruding upon his incog. He's very
fine on his incog., you air awair."

"Madame," exclaimed Reybold straightforwardly, "there are reasons why I
should communicate with your husband. My term in Congress is nearly
expired. I might arouse your interest, if I chose, by recalling to your
mind the memorandum of about seven hundred dollars in which you are my
debtor. That would be a reason for seeing your husband anywhere north
of the Potomac, but I do n