favors her
some. Yes, thought I'd drop in and see how you be on my way home."

Sergeant Ephraim had much to say about the great war, and about Coniston.
True to the instincts of the blood of the Stark hero, he had left the
plough and the furrow' at the first call, forty years of age though he
was. But it had been otherwise with many in Coniston and Brampton and
Harwich. Some of these, when the drafting came, had fled in bands to the
mountain and defied capture. Mr. Dudley Worthington, now a mill owner,
had found a substitute; Heth Sutton of Clovelly had been drafted and had
driven over the mountain to implore Jethro Bass abjectly to get him out
of it. In short, many funny things had happened--funny things to Sergeant
Ephraim, but not at all to William Wetherell, who sympathized with Heth
in his panic.

"So Jethro Bass has become a great man," said Wetherell.

"Great!" Ephraim ejaculated. "Guess he's the biggest man in the state
to-day. Queer how he got his power began twenty-four years ago when I
wahn't but twenty. I call that town meetin' to mind as if 'twas yesterday
never was such an upset. Jethro's be'n first Selectman ever sense, though
he turned Republican in '60. Old folks don't fancy Jethro's kind of
politics much, but times change. Jethro saved my life, I guess."

"Saved your life!" exclaimed Wetherell.

"Got me a furlough," said Ephraim. "Guess I would have died in the
hospital if he hadn't got it so all-fired quick, and he druv down to
Brampton to fetch me back. You'd have thought I was General Grant the way
folks treated me."

"You went back to the war after your leg healed?" Wetherell asked, in
wondering admiration of the man's courage.

"Well," said Ephraim, simply, "the other boys was gettin' full of bullets
and dysentery, and it didn't seem just right. The leg troubles me some on
wet days, but not to amount to much. You hain't thinkin' of dyin'
yourself, be ye, William?"

William was thinking very seriously of it, but it was Cynthia who spoke,
and startled them both.

"The doctor says he will die if he doesn't go to the country."

"Somethin' like consumption, William?" asked Ephraim.

"So the doctor said."

"So I callated," said Ephraim. "Come back to Coniston with me; there
hain't a healthier place in New England."

"How could I support myself in Coniston?" Wetherell asked.

Ephraim ruminated. Suddenly he stuck his hand into the bosom of his blue
coat, and his face lighted and even gus