hen his thoughts became riotous. Rumors had been rife that summer,
prophecies of changes to come, and the resignation of the old man who had
so long been postmaster at Brampton was freely discussed--or rather the
matter of his successor. As the months passed, Ephraim had heard David
Wheelock mentioned with more and more assurance for the place. He had had
many nights when sleep failed him, but it was characteristic of the old
soldier that he had never once broached the subject since Jethro had
spoken to him two months before. Ephraim had even looked up the law to
see if he was eligible, and found that he was, since Coniston had no
post-office, and was within the limits of delivery of the Brampton
office.

The next morning Coniston was treated to a genuine surprise. After
loading up at the store, Lem Hallowell, instead of heading for Brampton,
drove to the tannery house, left his horses standing as he ran in, and
presently emerged with a little cowhide trunk that bore the letter W.
Following the trunk came a radiant Cynthia, following Cynthia, Jethro
Bass in a stove-pipe hat, with a carpetbag, and hobbling after Jethro,
Ephraim Prescott, with another carpet-bag. It was remarked in the buzz of
query that followed the stage's departure that Ephraim wore the blue suit
and the army hat with a cord around it which he kept for occasions.
Coniston longed to follow them, in spirit at least, but even Milly
Skinner did not know their destination.

Fortunately we can follow them. At Brampton station they got into the
little train that had just come over Truro Pass, and steamed, with many
stops, down the valley of Coniston Water until it stretched out into a
wide range of shimmering green meadows guarded by blue hills veiled in
the morning haze. Then, bustling Harwich, and a wait of half an hour
until the express from the north country came thundering through the Gap;
then a five-hours' journey down the broad river that runs southward
between the hills, dinner in a huge station amidst a pleasant buzz of
excitement and the ringing of many bells. Then into another train,
through valleys and factory towns and cities until they came, at
nightfall, to the metropolis itself.

Cynthia will always remember the awe with which that first view of New
York inspired her, and Ephraim confessed that he, too, had felt it, when
he had first seen the myriad lights of the city after the long, dusty
ride from the hills with his regiment. For all the