ould take this little boy with him and
begin to live.

"I'll do it," he said, pressing David's face against his hollow
and unshaven cheek. "I'll do it, little boy; I will be your
father."

Then David asked encouragingly:

"Is it your picture that Mother keeps in her heart?"

"No, David; not mine, I'm afraid."

This was a sad blow to the little boy. A very solemn look came
into his face.

"You won't do," he said, "unless you can get your picture into
Mother's heart."

For a second time Dr. Redfield smiled, and then he asked:

"How did you get here?"

David did not answer the question; perhaps he did not hear what
was said to him. A thoughtful look had come into his face, and
presently he was asking, with great earnestness in his voice:

"Why have I got curls for? Why don't I have trouvers? Why don't I
have warts on me?"

Dr. Redfield was walking hand in hand with the little boy at his
side. They were going toward the place where the horse and buggy
stood waiting, and as they strode along the little boy kept
falling over his chubby legs. It was hard for him to go so fast,
for he was very tired, and besides, he was looking up into the
man's face.

"Warts aren't nice for little boys," said Dr. Redfield. "You and
I don't want them on _us_, do we?"

"Don't I, please?" said David, very earnestly. Then he wanted to
know if he could not be born in Indiana. That is where Mitch
Horrigan had been born, and he was always bragging about it. But
the Doctor didn't seem to be in a conversational humor. He made
no reply to David's request, and that vexed the little boy. He
suddenly let go of the man's hand and stood still. Then the
Doctor stopped, too, and asked what was wrong. It was now that
David closed his fist upon his thumbs and frowned savagely.

"I am not," he declared; "I am not neither a girl, am I?"

The reply of his big friend was consoling, but not satisfying,
and it was some time before the man again felt the little, soft
fist in his hand and saw the little boy looking wistfully up into
his face.

"If only I had a few of them, Fav-ver Doctor," said David, "only
just a few little warts!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE GONE-AWAY LADY

Proud business for David! Sitting on the edge of the seat of the
buggy, he was holding the reins very tight. One must always do
that if he does not want the horse to kick and run away. Not
knowing that the horse was tied to the hitching-post, David was
fulfilling his mi