went down to the toll-gate cottage. He
found his Reverend George sitting on the porch in his overcoat, with a
shawl thrown over his knees. A book lay in his lap, but his hands were
folded on the open pages, and he was looking far away across the brown
fields of tattered corn-stalks. He was much better than he had been for
several weeks, and welcomed John Jay so gaily, that the child felt that
a weight had somehow been lifted from him. Mammy and Uncle Billy had
been whispering together many times of late, and the little listener
shared their fears. He had made so many visits to the toll-gate since
the day he was left in charge, that he felt almost as much at home there
as Mars' Nat himself. Once George did all the talking while John Jay
listened with his head bashfully tipped to one side; now they seemed to
have changed places. It was George who listened.

John Jay had been kept at home for several days, and had much to tell.
For an hour or more he entertained George with accounts of his rabbit
snares, his nutting expeditions, and his persimmon hunts. He told about
the dye Mammy had made from the sumach berries which he had carried
home, and how Ivy had dropped her pet duck into it. He imitated Bud's
antics when he upset the kettle of soft soap, and he had much to say
about the young owl which they had caught, and caged under a wash-tub.

He did not notice that he was doing all the talking this afternoon, but
filled the pauses that sometimes fell between them by idly playing
jack-stones with a handful of acorns. George was thinking as they sat
there that this might be the last time that they two would ever sit in
this way together, and he was searching for some words with which to
prepare the child for a sudden leave-taking in case it should be soon.

At last he cleared his throat. John Jay looked up expectantly, but just
then Mars' Nat walked around the house.

"Here comes Doctor Leonard," he said, nodding towards a rapidly
approaching horseman. "Howdy, Doc," he called, as the man drew rein, and
felt in his pocket for some change to pay his toll. "What's your hurry?"

"I've a call over to Elk Ridge," he answered, handing him the money and
quickly starting on. Then he pulled his horse up with a sudden jerk.
"Here, Chadwick," he called, pitching the heavy overcoat he carried on
his arm in the direction of the porch, "I wish you'd keep this for me
until I get back. I'll be along this way before dark, and it's so much
w