ple tree near the front
door, with Empty lying full length upon the ground by her side. They
were both somewhat startled and surprised at the sudden appearance of
the two men from such an unexpected quarter.

"Well, bless my stars!" Mrs. Dempster exclaimed, rising quickly and
giving the shoe-maker her chair. "Ye look fagged out, poor man, an' no
wonder fer comin' over the hills. It's not often any one travels that
way now, though John always took that short-cut to the store when he
was alive. He was a great man fer short-cuts, was John. I wish Empty
here was more like his pa."

"I don't like short-cuts," her son replied. "Ye don't see nuthin', an'
ye don't hear nuthin'."

"An' ye can't tell nuthin'," his mother retorted. "That's why ye don't
like short-cuts."

"I believe you sent for me, Mrs. Dempster," Douglas remarked. "I was
sorry I could not come sooner."

"Oh, there was no special hurry. A day or two doesn't make much
difference. But I thought if ye brought ye'r fiddle an' played a
little it might cheer the poor lassie up a bit."

"How is she?" Joe eagerly asked, leaning forward so as not to miss a
word.

"Doin' as well as kin be expected. She's alone now," and the widow's
voice became low. "But I guess it's all fer the best. I wasn't in the
least surprised, considerin' what she's gone through. It'll be as much
as she kin do to make her own way in life, an' I told her so jist as
soon as she was willin' to listen to reason."

"Is she much depressed?" Douglas asked.

"All the time, sir, an' that's what worries me. She broods an' broods,
an' sighs an' sighs, poor thing, till my heart aches fer her."

"And nothing will cheer her up?"

"Nuthin' that me an' Empty kin do an' say, so that's the reason why I
sent fer you. I thought mebbe a little music might have some effect.
I've heard read from the Bible in church that when old King Saul was
down in the dumps, an' dear knows he deserved to be, the cloud passed
from his mind when David, the shepherd lad, brought his harp an' played
before him. Now, 'sez I to meself, sez I, 'if that old feller with all
his cussedness could be cured in that way, why can't a poor, dear,
troubled lassie like Jean Benton?' An' so sez I to Empty, 'Go an' see
if that wrestler won't come,' sez I. We've always called ye 'the
wrestler,' sir, since ye put Jake Jukes on his back. 'Mebbe he'll
bring his fiddle an' play a few old-fashioned tunes to chase the
shadder fr