o think of some way to
prolong their talk. "I've never heard from her, you know."

"Us folks don't get much time to write." Jim turned away and began
tinkering with one of the wagons.

Douglas had walked up and down in front of the tents again and again,
fighting against a desire to do the very thing that he was doing, but
to no purpose, and now that he was here, it seemed impossible that he
should go away so unsatisfied. He crossed to Jim and came determinedly
to the point.

"Can't I see her, Jim?"

"It's agin the rules." He did not turn.

There was another pause, then Douglas started slowly out of the lot.

"Wait a minute," called Jim, as though the words had been wrung from
him. The pastor came back with a question in his eyes.

"I lied to you."

"She's NOT well, then?"

"Oh, yes, she's well enough. It ain't that; it's about her being happy."

"She isn't?" There was a note of unconscious exultation in his voice.

"No. She AIN'T happy here, and she WAS happy WITH YOU."

"Then, why did she leave me?"

"I don't know. She wasn't goin' ter do it at first. Somethin' must
a-happened afterwards, somethin' that you an' me didn't know about."

"We WILL know about it, Jim. Where is she?" His quick eye searched the
lot. His voice had regained it's old command. He felt that he could
conquer worlds.

"You can't do no good that way," answered Jim. "She don't want ter see
you again."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, but she told me she'd run away if I ever even talked to
you about her."

"You needn't talk, Jim; I'll talk for myself. Where is she?"

"She'll be comin' out soon. You can wait around out here with me. I'll
let you know in time." He led the way through a narrow passage between
the wagons.

Jim and Douglas had barely left the lot when Deacon Elverson's small,
round head slipped cautiously around the corner of the dressing tent.
The little deacon glanced exultantly about him. He was monarch of all he
surveyed. It was very thrilling to stand here, on this forbidden ground,
smelling the saw-dust, gazing at the big red wagons, studying the
unprotected circus properties, and listening to the lightening tempo of
the band.

"Did you see him?" shouted Strong, who had followed closely upon
Elverson's heels.

The little deacon started. Strong was certainly a disturbing factor at
times.

"Yes, I--I saw him."

"Well?"

"He--he--didn't see HER."

"What DID he do?" Strong was beside himself with impatienc