, had smuggled in at the bottom of the
sheet a postscript, a vicarious confession which Echford Flagg did not
know how to make, "Hese cryin and monein for you. Come home!"

It was as if those two summoning words were spoken in her ear,
plaintively and quaveringly.

She ran from the tent, carrying her little bag and the cant dog scepter
of the Flaggs.

"Can you start back at once?" she called to Jeff.

"Aye! It's orders."

She saw Latisan at the shore, directing the movements of the men; he was
once more the drive master, his cant dog in his hand, terse in his
commands, obeyed in his authority.

He pulled off his cap and walked to meet her when she hastened toward
him.

"I'm going back to Adonia."

"My guess was right, you see!"

"Are you coming soon to report?--Shall I tell my grandfather----" She
halted in her query as if she were regretting the eagerness in her tone.

"I'll leave it to you to tell him all that has happened up here. But you
may say to him, if you will, that I'm staying with the drive from now
on."

Her charioteer swung the big bays and headed them toward the mouth of
the tote road, halting them near her.

Her emotions were struggling from the fetters with which she tried to
bind them. Those men standing around! She wished they would go away
about their business, but they surveyed her with the satisfied air of
persons who felt that they belonged in all matters that were on foot.

Latisan was repressed, grave, keeping his place, as he had assigned a
status to himself. She was glad when old Vittum broke upon the silence
that had become embarrassing. "It won't be like what it has been, after
you're gone, Miss Lida Kennard. But I feel that I'm speaking for the men
when I say that you're entitled to a lay-off, and if you'll be out on
the hill where you can wave your hand to us when we ride the leader
logs into the hold-boom, we'll all be much obligated to you! I was
thinking of calling for three cheers, but I remember how this idea
seemed to hit better." He led the procession of men past her; they
scrubbed their toil-roughened palms across their breasts and gave her
silent pledges when they grasped her hand. "It's sort of a family
party," said Vittum.

There was inspiration for her in that suggestion. This was no time for
convention, for placid weighing of this consideration against that, for
strait-laced repression. The environment encouraged her. Her exulting
joy drove her on.

Once be