"How do you know my daughter's on the island?" Randall asked. Then the expression upon his face suddenly changed, and a new energy possessed him. He struggled to his knees and faced the young man. "Are you John Hampton?" he demanded. "Are you the man who lured my daughter away from home?"

"I am John Hampton," was the quiet reply. "But I didn't lure your daughter away from home. She left of her own free will."

"You lie," Randall shouted. "You cursed villain, I'll make you pay for your deviltry. You brought all this trouble upon me, and I'll, I'll——"

"There, now, don't get so excited, sir," John warned. "You need all your strength, so if you don't make an effort to save yourself, you won't have a chance to do anything to me."

"Get out of my sight," Randall shouted. "I won't be saved by a thing like you. I'd rather die first."

To try to reason with this angry and half distracted man John realised would be useless. And besides, there was not time. The roar of the fire was becoming louder, and the flames were about to burst through the forest.

Already to their left and right vast columns of smoke were pouring above the tree tops, and fiery tongues were licking among the bushes along the borders of the plains. The situation was desperate. He looked, and his eyes rested upon a pile of large boulders several yards away. These were heaped upon a great flat portion of rock, whose surface was devoid of the least vestige of vegetation. To get the injured man there was his only hope. But when he offered the suggestion, Randall refused it with scorn.

"That place is worse than this," he declared. "Here it will be over in a few minutes, but there I shall slowly roast to death."

"No, you won't," John replied, at the same time laying his hand upon Randall's shoulder. "Come, trust me."

"Leave me alone," was the angry retort. "I'd sooner trust a snake than you. Get out of my sight."

John now knew that he had to take stern measures and act at once, for there was not a minute to lose. Stooping, he caught the helpless man in a firm grip, lifted him from the ground, and staggered through the bushes. Randall was an unwieldy weight, and he struggled and cursed like a madman. At times John thought he would be forced to drop his burden and give up the attempt. But the menacing danger nerved him to almost super-human effort, and at last he stumbled with his load upon the rocky surface. Dragging Randall to the centre of the stone, he left him sprawling there, and sprang at once to the nearest clump of bushes. Drawing forth a match from his vest pocket, he struck it and touched it to a dry bit of fine grass. A small flame immediately shot up, which soon spread, and raced out among the bushes. The same was done in several other places, and in a few minutes the two men were in the centre of a ring of fire, which enlarged and increased in fury as the flames seized upon the dry material on all sides. The heat now was intense, and the smoke was blinding and suffocating.

During the whole of this performance Randall was yelling frantically to Hampton, asking what he meant by bringing the fire nearer. John, however, made no reply until his work was done. Then he staggered to the excited man's side, and without a word lifted him again in his arms, carried him to the pile of boulders, and laid him down between two big rocks nearest to the lake. Taking off his own coat, he spread it over Randall's head, and part of his body, commanding him at the same time to keep still, and stop struggling. This warning was given none too soon for the next instant a terrific roar rent the air, as the fire burst from the forest and flung itself upon the plains. Nothing could John now see, for the smoke was thicker than ever. The heat, too, was becoming more intense, and for relief he dropped upon his knees and covered his head with a portion of the coat which he had placed over Randall. This was only a brief respite, however, for burning brands were now falling everywhere, and one lighted almost on top of them. Then others followed in quick succession, so he was forced to stand on guard above the injured man. Desperately he fought the shower of flaming death, hurling aside each ember ere it could alight upon Randall's body. The heat now was almost unbearable. His hands and face were scorched, and his hair singed. How much longer could he fight the demon? he wondered. Would its hot breath lessen, or would it increase and devour him? The roar of the fire was appalling. On all sides it was raging and so dense was the smoke, and so overcome was he with his strenuous exertions, that he felt his strength rapidly weakening. Again and again, he nerved himself to the contest, and flung aside the falling embers with the desperation of despair. At last, after an almost superhuman effort, he flung out his hand to ward off another burning missive, when all power deserted him, and with a cry he fell forward full upon a large bolder.

He was aroused by a drop of moisture upon his cheek. Then another, and still another, and he knew that the blessed rain had come to his relief. Oh, how good it was to lie there, and feel the refreshing shower upon his hot face and hands. He knew, too, that the rain would quench the fire for a time, at least, and make it possible for him to escape. He must reach the island to find out about his mother and Jess, and how they had fared. The rain by now had developed into a regular downpour, and the raging fire had been quenched as if by magic. The dense volumes of smoke no longer rolled over the land, and as John looked out upon the blackened plains a scene of desolation met his eyes. The forest on every side was in ruins, even to the lake, a glimpse of which he could see through the stark flame-swept trees. But how far beyond had the fire extended? That was the question which filled him with anxiety. Had it reached the island, which here was but a few yards from the mainland, or had it been checked by the lake and the rain? This he must find out, and at once.

With difficulty he rose to his feet, for he was bruised and sore, and stepped over to where Randall was lying. Pulling away the coat, he laid his hand upon the man's shoulder, shook him, and told him to get up, as the danger was over. A peculiar muttering sound was the only response, and as John dragged back the prostrate body from between the boulders and looked upon the man's face, he was astonished to see the strange vacant expression in his eyes. Then his lips began to move, and he stared fearfully around.

"Don't let it get me!" he cried. "For God's sake, keep it away! Look, look, it's coming!"

"Come, come, sir, you're all right," Hampton soothed, certain now that the man's mind was somewhat unbalanced by the fearful ordeal through which he had recently passed. "It is raining hard now; don't you feel it? The fire is all out, so you have nothing more to fear."

But Randall clutched him frantically by the arm, and pointed across the plains. "See, see; there it is!" he cried. "It's coming this way! It will burn me alive! Ob, save me! Save me!"

John now realised the helplessness of the situation. It was necessary for him to hurry to the island, and yet he could not leave this demented man alone on the plains. The more he talked and reasoned, the more violent Randall became, begging most piteously to be saved. It seemed strange to John that this helpless being lying there could ever have been the Harry Randall of whom he had beard so much, and who but a short time before had cursed him so bitterly. Of what avail now were his power, wealth and wrath?

As John stood and wondered what to do, feeling keenly his own impotence, a shout to the right startled him, causing him to turn quickly in that direction. And as he did so, he saw several men hurrying toward him. As they drew nearer, be recognised them as neighbours, men he had known all his life.

"For heaven's sake!" the first man exclaimed, as he reached the spot. He ceased, and his eyes grew big with astonishment as he glanced down upon Randall. "Is that him?" he asked.

"You know him, then?" John queried.

"Hen. Randall, ain't it?"

"Yes, all that's left of him. But how did you know he was here, Jim?"

"Oh, a feller came for us in a car. Said his boss was out here somewhere, and he was afraid the fire had overtaken him. Guess Randall must have got lost. But we couldn't do anything when we did come. If it hadn't been for that rain the fire would have done terrible damage."

"It's done a great deal already," and John motioned to Randall, who had ceased his pleadings, and was lying still upon the ground. "He's had a hard time of it. His ankle's sprained or broken, I don't know which, and he's crazy."

The four men of the relief party looked curiously upon Randall, who presented a wretched appearance with his blackened face and rain-soaked clothes.

"D'ye think he'll get over this?" Jim Shaw asked, turning to John.

"Not if he stays here," was the emphatic reply. "You men must take him out of this at once. I've got to go to the island. Mother's there."

"Your mother's on the island!" Jim fairly shouted the words. "Why, no one could live on the island before that fire. Good Lord, man! She must be burned alive!"

For a few seconds the five men stood and stared at one another. The horror of the situation silenced their tongues. John was the first to speak.

"You look after Randall," he ordered. "I must get to the island and find out the worst. Perhaps the rain checked the fire in time."

He then turned and hurried across the blackened waste. He tried to keep calm, but his heart beat fast, and a great dread possessed him. What if his mother and Jess were both dead! The thought was appalling. It drove him forward like a hound. He leaped over sticks and stones in his headlong speed, dashed through the burned trees, and sprang out upon the shore of the lake. Here he stopped, and as his eyes rested upon the island a cry of despair burst from his lips. The fire had reached the place and swept it from end to end! But what of his mother and Jess! Were they alive? or were their charred bodies now lying exposed to the pelting rain? He called again and again at the top of his voice, but received no reply. The silence was ominous, for from where he was standing anyone, even in the middle of the small island, should be able to hear.

The one thing now for him to do was to cross that narrow strip of water and find out just what had happened. The only way to get there was to swim, for his boat which he had left that morning at the upper end of the lake could not have escaped the devouring flames. He could see that the fire had passed over the very place, close to the water's edge.

Tearing off his shoes and vest, in another minute he was into the lake, and headed for the island. He was a good swimmer and under ordinary circumstances the swim would have been mere child's play. But he was weak after his fearful exertions, and his clothes impeded his progress. But still he struggled forward, and at length, wearied almost to the point of exhaustion, his feet touched bottom, and he staggered heavily out of the water, and fell upon the shore. Again he called, but received no reply.

After a few minutes' rest, he regained his feet and groped his way along the shore until he reached the spot where he had landed the women the night before. Fearfully he turned his eyes up the path leading to the house, and as he looked, his heart sank within him. Nothing remained of the building but a few black sticks, from which small wreaths of smoke were issuing. He walked slowly up the path like one in a dream, and stopped before the ruins. But no charred bodies did he find.

And as he looked, a new hope seized him. The women must have fled to the water for protection. Perhaps, even now, they were somewhere on the shore, most likely at the farther end of the island.

Encouraged by this thought, he hurried back to the landing, and made his way down along the shore. He kept a sharp outlook, but no sign of life met his view. As he advanced, nothing rewarded his efforts, and despair once more seized him. The women could not have escaped from the island without assistance, he was certain. And it was hardly likely that any rescuer would be on hand in the time of need. Perhaps they had rushed into the water, and driven by the fury of the flames had gone beyond their depth. All this came into his mind as he turned the lower end of the island and viewed the shore to his right. He stopped and cast his eyes toward the mainland, but everywhere was the same scene of black desolation. It was wonderful how fast and far the fire had travelled before being checked by the rain.

Continuing his walk, he moved slowly along the shore until he came abreast the spot where the cabin had stood, and on the opposite side of the island from the landing. There was no need for him to go any farther. The women were nowhere in the vicinity, he was sure. They must have been drowned!

But perhaps they had been overtaken by the fire in their rush to the water, and their charred bodies even now might be lying among the trees. It was a fearful thought, which paled his burnt cheeks, and caused him to tremble violently. Should he search for them? he asked himself.

"I can't do it!" he groaned. "Oh, God! this is terrible!"

He buried his face in his hands, and sank down upon the ground, his soul writhing with the agony of an overwhelming despair.



CHAPTER XXVII

IN THE NICK OF TIME

"What a lovely place this is!"

Jess was standing close to the water looking across at the opposite shore. Mrs. Hampton, seated upon the bank, thought she had never beheld a more beautiful picture of grace and maidenly charm. Her heart thrilled as she watched her standing there. She was her own child, and no one had any right to take her away. Her face, however, became grave as she thought of Henry Randall. He was a determined man, she was well aware, and he would exert every effort, and spend money without stint to get control of the girl he believed to be his daughter. She felt that affairs were nearing a crisis now. But she would fight, and, if necessary, divulge the story of her own wretched sin. It would be a startling revelation to the two young people, she was certain, but she fondly cherished the hope that they would readily forgive her for her dark deed of the past.

"Do you think John will come back early?" Jess asked, as she came and sat down by Mrs. Hampton's side.

"He will return just as soon as he can, you may depend upon that," Mrs. Hampton smilingly replied. "I hope he won't neglect his work to get here."

"And will he go home every day?"

"He will have to, so long as we remain here."

"Why can't we stay here all the time?" Jess impulsively asked.

"How could we live, dear?" and Mrs. Hampton looked fondly upon the girl's animated face. "You have never worked for a living, so have no idea what it means. If we stay here long without caring for the place, we shall all starve, and that would be worse than going back to your—your parents, would it not?"

"But it is so nice here, and I am very happy." Jess gave a sigh of contentment, and looked out over the water. "I wish we had a boat," she continued, "so we could go for a row. The lake is like a mirror, and how wonderfully the trees are reflected in the clear depths. It is all like pictures I have seen."

This conversation took place as the two remained by the landing after watching John disappear among the trees on the opposite shore. At length they went back to the house, and busied themselves with washing the breakfast dishes, and tidying up the rooms. When this was at last finished, they again went out of doors, and strolled along the shore on the other side of the island. From here Mrs. Hampton pointed out the mine on the mainland, partly concealed among the trees.

"My husband spent much of his time here," she explained, "and hoped that some day the mine would be properly worked. But there doesn't seem to be much chance now of anything being done. The place is becoming overrun with bushes, so John says."

"Is there plenty of coal?" the girl asked, as she looked across the water.

"I understand there is. My husband told me that there is an abundance, and I always had confidence in his judgment. But many people thought he was visionary, and in some unaccountable way they considered his mine a joke."

"What a shame!" Jess declared. "They knew the coal was there, though, didn't they?"

"Oh, yes. But, you see, my husband did not have the capital to develop the mine, and people of means were unwilling to have anything to do with the undertaking, owing to the difficulty of getting the coal to the market. My husband always planned to have a little railway built into the lake. He knew that it could be done, for he had a route surveyed at his own expense. But that took the last cent, so there was nothing left for further development. I really believe the failure of his plans hastened his death."

"And would no one lend him money?" Jess asked. "Why didn't he come to my father? He has plenty of money, and so has mother."

"Your father was appealed to time and time again, but he would do nothing unless my husband sold out his entire right to the mine for a small sum, which, of course, he refused to do."

"And is my father like that in business?" The girl's eyes were wide with surprise.

"We found him so, at any rate. But come, dear, let us not talk any more about this. It is a very painful subject to me, and I did not intend to bother you with my troubles."

They continued their walk along the shore, around the lower end of the island, and up the opposite side.

"I believe we are going to have rain before long," Mrs. Hampton remarked, as she paused and looked at the sky. "I did not notice it before."

"What a black cloud that is over there," Jess replied. "Why, it looks like smoke."

Mrs. Hampton turned, and as she did so, she gave a cry of dismay, and laid her right hand impulsively upon her companion's arm.

"It is smoke! And the wind is blowing it this way! See how it is rolling toward us. Someone has started a big fire over there, and it may do a great deal of damage, as everything is so dry."

"But we are safe here on this island, are we not?" Jess anxiously asked. "The fire can't surely cross the water."

"It can come through the air, though. Burning brands may soon be falling on all sides, and wherever one alights another fire will be started. We may have a shower of them here, even before the fire reaches the lake."

"What are we to do, then?" the girl asked.

"I do not know except to seek refuge in the lake. The water is deep around the shore of this island, so we could not go out very far."

"Perhaps John will come and take us off," Jess suggested.

"Let us hope so, dear," and Mrs. Hampton placed her right arm lovingly around her daughter. "John will come, if possible, we can be assured of that. No doubt he has seen the fire before this, and is hurrying to our aid now. But, look, isn't the smoke getting thick!"

"And what is that roaring sound?" Jess asked. "It is growing louder."

"It must be the fire; it's getting nearer all the time."

"Oh, what shall we do ?" the girl cried, clinging now to Mrs. Hampton.

"We must keep close to the lake, dear, and, if necessary, take to the water. We can wade out as far as we can, and may be able to escape much of the heat of the flames."

Little was said for a while as the two stood there listening to the roaring of the fire, every instant expecting it to leap across the island. Neither did they have to wait long, for soon the air became filled with blazing cinders. They fell with a hissing sound upon the water and along the shore. In a short time the upper end of the island, was on fire, and they could hear the crackle and roar as it rushed through the underbrush, blasting the pine and fir trees in its path.

"It is almost upon us!" Mrs. Hampton cried, clutching Jess fiercely by the arm. "Let us go to the lower end of the island. Perhaps we can get out upon the rocks there. Anywhere is better than here."

Hurrying along the shore as fast as possible, they soon reached the place, and with difficulty made their way over the rough boulders which lifted their heads above the surface of the water. But they could go only a few yards, for when the outer rock was reached, they were forced to stop, as the water was deep beyond. And here they huddled, clinging to each other, every minute expecting the fiery monster to burst forth upon them from the nearby forest.

As they crouched here and waited, they often turned their eyes across the lake to where the boat was lying on the mainland. So thick was the smoke that the opposite shore was greatly dimmed. They wondered what could be keeping John. He was their only hope now, but he must come soon or it would be too late, they felt sure.

It was not long, however, before this avenue of escape was almost cut off. With white faces, and fast-beating hearts they saw the fire sweeping along the shore of the mainland straight for the small boat. Intuitively they both uttered a cry of despair, and stared with wide, straining eyes as the flames rolled onward, every minute drawing nearer to the landing. The fire now raged behind them, as it was raging on the mainland. But still they looked shoreward. Even at the eleventh hour John might arrive. What he would do if he did come they had not reasoned out. Neither did they realise that nowhere on that lake could anything live, ringed in by such a fiery furnace. They imagined that out upon the water they would find refuge from the flames, so John with the boat was their only means of salvation.

Soon, however, all hope of escape was abandoned. The fire was almost to the landing, and great sheets of flame were leaping high over the very spot where the boat was lying. As yet it was untouched, but in a few minutes it, too, would be swept away.

And as they looked, they beheld the form of a man leaping, so it appeared to them, right out of that wall of fire. Jess started and leaned impetuously forward, and stretched out her arms as if to save him.

"It is John!" she cried. "Oh, he'll be burned! He'll be burned!" She buried her face in her hands to hide the terrible scene from view.

The next instant she lifted her head at Mrs. Hampton's startled exclamation. As she looked, she saw that the man on the shore had reached the boat as the flames were licking around it, and had sent it reeling into the water. Seizing an oar, he drove the craft out into the lake, just as the fire swept over the very spot where a minute before it had been lying. Then he seated himself and began to row straight for the island.

"He doesn't see us!" Jess exclaimed. "He is heading for the landing."

Acting upon the impulse of excitement, she rose to her feet, and balancing herself with difficulty upon the rock, she called aloud three times. As the third call sounded forth, the rower paused, and glanced around to his right. At once the boat swerved to the left until its bow pointed straight for the pile of rocks.

"He sees us! He sees us!" Jess cried. "It must be John, and he will save us!"

"While watching the approaching boat, Mrs. Hampton was listening most anxiously to the fire sweeping down upon them from the rear. The air overhead was black with dense volumes of smoke, and already she could feel the hot breath of the on-coming monster. A more ominous roar than ever caused her to turn partly around. There stood the trees, gaily dressed in their robes of green, unaware that in a few minutes their beauty would be gone, and they would be left mere gaunt and shrivelled spectres. From their low position, and protected by the trees, the vast clouds of smoke did not greatly affect them, but swirled high above. This could not be for long, as already the woman had caught the first glimpse of the fire among the trees. Would the boat reach them in time? That was the question she asked herself, as she looked again in its direction. The rower was straining every effort, and he was now but a few yards away. On and on rushed the boat, and as the rower turned his face toward the women they were startled to see, not the one they had imagined, but Eben Tobin. There was no time, however, for questions now. As the boat neared the rocks, the boy rose to his feet and reached out a fending oar. There was a bump, a grating sound, and a roar from Eben.

"On board, quick," he ordered. "The fire's on top of us!"

Quickly the women obeyed, and scrambled from the rock into the boat, nearly capsizing it as they did so.

"Set there, an' be still," Eben commanded, as he pushed away from the shore, seated himself, and again dipped the oars into the water. He headed the boat around the lower point of the island, and rowed hard. So taken up were the women with watching the fire, that they hardly looked at their rescuer. Had they done so they would have been greatly shocked. The hair had disappeared from his head, his face, arms and hands were red and swollen, while his shirt was entirely charred across his chest and shoulders. His blood-shot eyes, and the haggard expression on his face told their own tale, although he gave no outward sign of his suffering. He rowed as he had never rowed before, for the lives of the women depended upon his exertions.

Eben had been rowing only a few minutes when the fire reached the lower end of the island. It burst with a mighty roar from among the trees, and hurled its flames out over the rocks where the women had been huddled but a short time before. They shivered as they watched the fearful sight, and silently clung to each other. But even now they were not beyond danger. The flames, as if angered by losing their human prey, reached out over the water in a final effort to seize the fleeing ones. Showers of blazing embers were poured forth, and fell around the boat, and at times upon the occupants. The women were now kept alert and busy extinguishing these brands by hurling the largest overboard, and by dashing water with their hands and a small baling can over the others. The heat was intense, and at times almost unbearable. The smoke, too, was blinding and suffocating. This, added to the heat and the roar of the fire, made their position a veritable inferno, from which there seemed no way of escape. So far as they could tell the country all around them was aflame.

Eben uttered no sound, but pulled strongly at the oars. Occasionally he turned his head in an effort to see the mainland toward which he was urging the boat. The fire was sweeping down along the shore, and he could tell by the sound how far it had advanced. In a short time it would be opposite them, and if thus caught between the flames on the shore and those on the island their fate would be sealed.

Almost instinctively now Eben guided the boat, and in a few minutes more it grated upon the beach and brought up with a jerk.

"Get out quick," the lad ordered, as he threw aside the oars and leaped ashore.

Without a word the women immediately obeyed, and no sooner had their feet touched the ground than their rescuer caught each by the arm with a firm grip.

"Come," he gasped. "Guess we're in time."

They hurried up the bank, which here was quite steep, and in another minute Eben halted, before an opening in the side of the hill.

"Gee! I struck it right," he panted. "It's the mine. Bend yer heads an' come on. I'll show ye the way."



CHAPTER XXVIII

IN URGENT NEED

When Thomas Hampton laboured so hard in opening up his mine on the shore of Island Lake, he little thought in what manner it would one day be used. He had toiled through long weary months, working with pick and shovel, until he had drifted one hundred feet into the side of the hill. He had shored up the roof of the mine with poles he had cut and dragged from the forest, until everything was secure to his entire satisfaction. He had the coal unearthed and ready to be brought forth, but little interest was taken in his efforts, and he had no money to carry on the enterprise.

"We shall come into our own some day," he had told his wife not long before his death. "The mine will be used, and success and fortune will be ours."

Mrs. Hampton thought of these words as she and her companions sat huddled there in the darkness at the farther end of the mine. It had been hard groping their way thither, for the ground was rough, and they had no light to guide their steps. But they were thankful for this refuge, and it was good to sit there and rest.

"Guess the fire can't reach us now," Eben remarked. "Wish to goodness I had a match, so's we could see what kind of a place this is. But I left my vest in the car, and the matches were in the pocket."

"What car?" Mrs. Hampton asked.

"Lord Fiddlesticks'."

"You mean Lord Donaster?"

"I guess that's his name, but dad calls him 'Fiddlesticks'."

"And you were with him? Where was he going?"

"Why, he was comin' here, of course. Where'd ye think he was goin'?"

"What was he coming here for?" Jess sharply asked.

"To see you, I guess."

"How did he know where I was?"

"H'm, he found out all right. Ye can't hide from him fer long. He thinks a lot of you, he sure does."

"Where is he now, then?"

"Oh, he skedaddled when he saw the fire. He was 'most scared t' death."

"So he left you alone to save us?" Jess asked. "There was a note of tenderness in her voice.

"Oh, I didn't mind. He'd only been in the way. He's no good."

"And you came right through the fire to help us! We would have been burned alive but for you."

"I'm glad I was in time. Oh!" Eben tried to smother the groan, but in vain. The intense excitement on the lake while seeing from the flames had kept his mind from his burns, but now in the darkness and stillness of the mine it was different. His sufferings increased, and he felt like screaming with the pain. He could sit still no longer.

"You stay here," he ordered, "while I go an' see how things look outside."

"Be careful of yourself, and keep out of the fire," Mrs. Hampton warned.

"Oh, I'll be keerful," Eben faintly replied, as he groped his way along the dark passage. "I won't run no risk."

Left alone, the women talked about the fire, and the bravery of their young rescuer.

"Eben is certainly a hero," Mrs. Hampton remarked. "How can we ever repay him for what he has done for us to-day?"

"He must have done it for your sake?" Jess replied. "I am sure he didn't do it for me."

"Why not?" Mrs. Hampton asked in surprise.

"He doesn't like me. I feel certain that it was Eben who threw the stone which hit me that night at the quarry. And then when he came home yesterday and met John and me on the shore he was very angry. He picked up a stick and threw it with all his might. It hit John, but I really believe it was meant for me."

"This is all news to me, dear," Mrs. Hampton replied as she pressed the girl's hand in hers. "What reason has Eben for disliking you?"

"I don't know. But he has acted very strangely ever since those two men were injured at the quarry. He was so pleasant and agreeable before that."

"John met you there that night, did he not?" Mrs. Hampton asked.

"Oh, yes. We were together all the next day, and had such a happy time."

"But what of Eben?"

"I didn't see him at all, and when we went down to the boat in the evening he wasn't there. I asked for him, and one of the workmen said he had run away when he saw us coming. The rest of the men thought it was a big joke and had a great laugh."

Owing to the darkness Jess could not see the smile that flitted across her mother's face. Mrs. Hampton was somewhat amused at the girl's simplicity, although to her the reason for Eben's strange behaviour was quite apparent.

"Eben doesn't dislike you, dear," she told her. "He loves you instead, and loves you so much that he is jealous of John because he thinks he has taken you from him."

"Eben loves me!" Jess exclaimed in surprise. "Why, I never thought of such a thing."

"I know you didn't. But I believe it is true, nevertheless. And I don't blame the boy, for how could anyone help loving you?"

Before Jess could reply a peculiar muffled sound drifted into the mine. It startled them, for it was like a cry of someone in distress.

"It must be Eben," Mrs. Hampton declared, as she rose quickly to her feet. "Let us go and find, out what is the matter."

It did not take them long to grope their way to the entrance, for as they advanced they were guided by the light from the opening. Smoke was hovering about the mouth of the mine, and the air felt somewhat cool.

"It is raining!" Jess exclaimed. "The fire is all out." Then she gave a cry of fright as Eben's body, huddled upon the ground, met her eyes. Mrs. Hampton had seen it, too, and was first by the boy's side.

"Is he dead?" Jess asked in an awed voice.

"No, he is alive," Mrs. Hampton replied as she felt his pulse. "But look at his face! Isn't it terribly burned!"

"And his hands, arms, and body!" Jess replied. "Oh, the poor boy!" She dropped upon her knees by his side, and took one of the swollen hands in hers. "He must have been burned when he leaped through the fire at the landing," she continued. "And he must have been suffering all the time while he was rowing us here, and we were too much excited to notice it. Now I understand the meaning of that groan in the mine. Oh, what are we to do?"

"I am afraid we can do nothing," Mrs. Hampton replied. "The fire has destroyed the boat, so we cannot cross the lake. The only thing to do is to leave you here with Eben while I go for assistance."

"Perhaps John will soon be here," Jess suggested. "He must be very anxious about us."

"But he won't know where to find us."

"He will come to the island, anyway, and will search everywhere for us. Perhaps we shall be able to see him and call to him. Suppose we wait for a while. You cannot walk to the river."

"I can do more than you imagine," was the quiet reply. "But it is just as well to wait awhile. In the meantime we must get this poor boy under shelter. Let us carry him into the mine."

As carefully and tenderly as possible the two lifted the unconscious lad and bore him into the opening of the mine, where they laid him down upon the ground. With his head on her lap, Jess wiped away the moisture from the red swollen face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched him, and noted how his hair had been burnt away, and his features distorted with pain.

"You poor boy!" she murmured. "You did it all for us, and we can do nothing for you now."

"We must do something," Mrs. Hampton declared. "I cannot wait here and let the boy die without making an effort to save his life. I can go to the other side of the lake, anyway, and be at the landing when anyone comes. John will surely be there soon. I hope nothing has happened to him."

At these words an expression of fear appeared in the girl's eyes as she turned them upon her mother's face.

"Perhaps he tried to reach us and was caught by the fire!" Her heart beat fast, and her face became very white.

"You need not worry, dear," Mrs. Hampton comforted. "John has common sense, and would not run any useless risk."

"But he would run any risk for us, I am certain," Jess declared. "He would not think of himself when he knew that we were in danger. He would go through anything for us."

"I know that, dear," and Mrs. Hampton looked lovingly into the girl's sparkling eyes. "But perhaps he did not know of the fire in time. Most likely he was very busy about the place, and had little idea that we were in danger. I shall go now, for there is no time to lose. You watch by the poor boy. I don't like to leave you alone, but there is nothing else to do. I could not think of sending you, for you would be sure to lose your way."

Hardly had Mrs. Hampton ceased speaking ere Jess pointed excitedly across to the island.

"Look, look!" she cried. "Somebody is over there. He's standing on the shore, though he doesn't see us. I believe it's John!"

Laying Eben's head gently upon the ground, she sprang to her feet, hurried down to the edge of the lake, and called across the water. As she did so, the man on the island started, hurried forward, and looked over to where the girl was standing.

"Are you both safe?" he shouted.

"Yes," Jess called back. "But we want help."

"All right, I'll be there in a minute."

The next instant he was into the lake, and headed straight for the island. Jess watched him with the keenest interest, her eyes aglow with admiration.

"Isn't he a great swimmer!" she exclaimed, as she turned to Mrs. Hampton, who was now standing by her side. "I know he would come, didn't you?"

"Yes, if he possibly could," was the reply. "I am so thankful he is here, for he will be able to help us get that poor boy home."

It took John but a few minutes to swim across that narrow portion of the lake, and when his feet at length touched bottom he waded ashore, the water running in streams from his body. But the women thought nothing of his personal appearance, so delighted were they to have him with them.

"Mother! Jess!" he panted. "How did you get here?"

In reply, Mrs. Hampton pointed to the partly-burned boat, and then turned toward the mine.

"Come," she simply said, "I want to show you something."

She led the way, with Jess and John following. The latter could not keep his eyes off the girl's face. He could hardly believe it possible that she was alive, and looking as beautiful as ever, although somewhat pale. He was like a man who had awakened from a horrible dream, and found that it was not true.

Mrs. Hampton stopped at the entrance of the mine and silently motioned to the prostrate boy.

"Why, it's Eben Tobin!" John almost shouted the words, so great was his surprise. "How in the world did he get here?"

"He came in the boat, and saved us just in the nick of time," Mrs. Hampton explained. "But for him we would not be here now."

"But what is wrong with him?"

"He is so terribly burned that he is unconscious. He leaped right through the fire at the landing, pushed off the boat, and came to our rescue. We were so excited that we did not know he was so badly burned until a short time ago. He never said a word to us about it. But we must get him home at once. How can we do it?"

John dropped upon his knees by Eben's side and examined his burns. He could tell at once how serious they were, and that something must be done immediately. And as he knelt there, the boy moaned and his body trembled. Then his eyes opened, his lips moved, and he muttered words which the anxious watchers could not understand.

"We must get him home before he recovers consciousness," John declared, springing to his feet. "He does not realise his sufferings in his present condition. But should he come to out here it will be fearful, for we can do nothing to relieve his pain."

He turned and looked toward the remains of the boat, and then off into the forest.

"You stay here out of the rain," he told the women. "I want to see what can be done. I must build a raft of some kind to take us across to the landing, as it is impossible to carry Eben around the lake."

"Oh, let me help you," Jess pleaded. "Make some use of me."

"But you will get soaked, and your clothes and hands dirty," John replied.

"That won't matter. I don't mind the rain, and I can wash my hands and clothes."

"Very well, then," John assented, much pleased at the true spirit of the one he loved, and also anxious to have her with him.

In a few minutes they were down by the lake examining the boat, to find out how much it had been damaged.

"It is not so badly burned as I thought," John remarked. "The bottom is all right, and the sides are only partly injured. If we can get several good-sized poles to place underneath, it should carry us all right. I guess we can find them over there," and he motioned to his left. "If I only had an axe it wouldn't take me long to make a raft that would hold a horse."

Together they made their way into the forest a short distance from the mine. The fire had left desolation on all sides in its onward sweep. Everything was black, and the tall trees stood gaunt and bare. The underbrush had been burnt, so without much difficulty John was enabled to find a number of sticks lying upon the ground, which he knew would serve his purpose. It did not take the two long to carry them back to the landing, and in a remarkably short time they were placed under the boat and securely fastened with willow withes, which served instead of a rope. When the work was finished, John stepped on the raft, pushed it from the shore, and tested it thoroughly.

"It is perfectly safe," he announced, "and will carry us all."

In a few minutes they were on board and out upon the lake, with Eben lying upon the bottom of the boat. John had found a long slim stick, and with this he poled. But when the water became too deep he paddled with one of the oars which had escaped the fire.

Little was said at first as they moved slowly forward toward the lower end of the island. Jess sat by Eben, with his head resting upon her lap, while Mrs. Hampton was seated near by. John was facing her, and at times their eyes met. Words were unnecessary to express their thoughts, for love has a silent language all its own, which lovers alone understand.

As they came near the lower end of the island, Jess pointed out the exact spot where she and Mrs. Hampton had taken refuge.

"It was on that big rock," she explained to John. "The fire was almost upon us when Eben arrived. We thought it was you at first, for we were expecting you, and wondering why you were so long in coming."

John made no immediate reply, but paddled steadily forward. He had said nothing about his experience on the plains, and he disliked to tell of it now. He was not sure how Jess might receive the news of her father's narrow escape and sad condition. He also knew that he would have to answer many questions, and would be forced to tell of his own part in the rescue, a thing which was adverse to his nature. But he would have to do so sooner or later, so it might as well be now as any time, he thought. Then, as briefly as possible, he explained the cause of his delay, and how he had hurried to the island as soon as the men had arrived from the river.

While John was speaking, Jess watched him intently, her heart beating rapidly, and her face very pale.

"What was daddy doing there?" she asked when he had finished.

"He was looking for you, so I gathered from what he said. He became lost, and sprained or broke his ankle as he wandered around. Then the fire came, and he was stumbling across the plains when I happened to see him."

John said nothing about the manner in which Randall had treated him, and made light of his wild ravings after the fire had subsided. Perhaps his distraction was only temporary, he reasoned, so it was just as well not to give the girl any unnecessary worry.

Jess sat for a while lost in thought, and John was relieved that she did not ask any more questions.

"Poor daddy!" she sighed. "I am sorry for him, but I hope this experience of his will teach him a lesson. He has been needing it for some time."

"Are you not afraid to go back to the river?" John asked. "Perhaps your father will be more angry than ever, and blame you for his trouble."

"I am not afraid now," was the low reply. "All that daddy can do or say will make little difference to me after what I have undergone to-day. I am going to him as soon as I can, and have this whole matter settled. I am sure he will not want me to marry Donaster now after the cowardly way he ran away and left us to our fate. But even if he does, it won't matter to me. Perhaps I was foolish to run away as I did. It might have been better if I had stayed at home, and asserted my rights. No one, not even my parents could have forced me to marry such a thing as that against my will. There will be no running away after this, I can tell you that. The matter will be settled once and for all as soon as I see daddy."

The decided tone of the girl's voice, and the look of determination in her eyes pleased the young man who was watching her. He liked what she said about Donaster, knowing that her censure was just. He knew what he would do with the coward should he ever catch him prowling around. He just longed for some pretext to get his hands upon the fellow.

As they drew near the landing, they saw a car come down to the shore and stop. Several men stepped out, who waved encouragingly to the voyagers. John recognised them at once as the ones who had come to his aid on the plains. He was very glad to see them, and thankful when at last the raft grounded upon the shore. Without any questions the men lifted Eben from the boat, and laid him gently in the auto.

"The women and you, John, can come with me," the driver announced. "There's another car outside for the rest of the men. We had a hard time getting through, so thought it best not to risk two cars."

In another minute they were on their way. Jess rode in the front seat, while Mrs. Hampton and John sat behind, and supported the still unconscious lad.



CHAPTER XXIX

CONFESSION

It was a beautiful afternoon as Henry Randall sat in a big easy chair under the shade of a large apple tree at the back of the Hampton house. He was very weak from the terrible experience through which he had passed almost two weeks before. He was slowly recovering, and his mind was now as clear as ever, for the cloud had lifted on the second day after the fire. His foot was still painful, and he could not yet bear to touch it to the ground. He liked this place at the rear of the house. It was quiet and hidden from all inquisitive eyes of passers-by on the main highway.

The fire around Island Lake, and the thrilling escape from death of Henry Randall and the two women had stirred the country for miles around. For days it was the principal topic of conversation in numerous homes, at the church door on Sunday, and other places where people were in the habit of congregating. Although John Hampton was accorded much commendation for saving the life of the lumber merchant on the blueberry plains, it was Eben Tobin who received the unstinted praise of all, in so nobly rescuing the women from the island. Every day anxious inquiries were made for the lad, and all were greatly pleased to learn of his steady improvement. The doctor, however, reported that it would be months before he could fully recover from his serious burns, and that his face and body would be scarred for the rest of his life.

The city newspapers made much of the affair, and the day after the fire contained special articles, with big headlines. The fact that Henry Randall, a leading citizen, was one of the chief actors, and that he was searching for his daughter who had taken refuge in the wilderness, created a sensation. It was the first knowledge that the public had that the girl was not drowned, and every scrap of information was seized upon with avidity. That it was a love-affair of no ordinary nature was quite apparent, and this added to the intense interest which prevailed. Great credit was given to John Hampton and Eben Tobin for their part in the rescue, although it was hinted that the former was in a large measure responsible for the trouble.

Henry Randall made no comment about these newspaper articles when he was able to read them. Had they appeared three weeks before he would have been very indignant, and would have angrily resented the intrusion into his family affairs. But he had changed greatly since then. His blustering, dominating manner had disappeared, and he would sit by the hour beneath the shade of the old tree, either gazing straight before him, or intently watching the birds, bees, and butterflies, which flitted and buzzed on all sides. He spoke but seldom, and seemed to take very little interest in the world of business of which he had but recently taken such an active part.

Whether this change was due to weakness Jess could not tell. That he did not once refer to her escapade and the trouble she had caused, surprised her not a little. She waited upon him faithfully, at first almost day and night, and he seemed pleased to have her by his side. But she feared lest when he recovered his former strength his old imperious manner would return. She longed for him to remain the quiet, gentle, unassertive man that he now was.

Not until the second week after the fire did Mrs. Randall visit her husband. She had wanted to come as soon as she learned of the accident, but owing to her nervous disposition the doctor ordered that she should stay at home. She would only be in the way, and her presence would be bad for the patient, so he explained. When finally she did come, she was very restless, and it was difficult to know what to do with her. She became hysterical when she saw her husband lying so still and white, and she furiously upbraided Jess for her rebellion, and the trouble she had brought upon the family. But after a few days she quieted down, took an interest in the family affairs, and seemed to enjoy being out in the open. She became greatly attached to Mrs. Hampton, whose calmness and gentleness of manner won her affection.

"I wish I were like you," she one day confided, as she watched Mrs. Hampton at her work.

"In what way?" was the smiling reply.

"Nothing seems to worry you in the least. No matter what happens, you remain perfectly unruffled. Now, I am altogether different."

"Perhaps I have my troubles, too," was the quiet response. "But I try to keep busy and not worry too much about them. Perhaps you have too much idle time on your hands."

"That may be so," and Mrs. Randall sighed. "You have a clear conscience, at any rate. But I, oh, you have no idea how I have sinned. I am sure that I can never be forgiven for what I have done. If you knew what I have done, you would spurn me as one unfit to stay in your house another minute."

"Does your husband know about it?" Mrs. Hampton asked. She understood quite well to what this woman was referring, and only with an effort did she maintain her composure, although her heart beat fast.

"No, he has no idea of what I have done," Mrs. Randall replied. "I dare not tell him. Oh, it is terrible to have to bear this burden alone!"

Glancing out of the window, Mrs. Hampton saw Randall beneath the tree. She knew that some day the truth would have to be told, and no time seemed as opportune as now. It could not be delayed much longer, she felt certain, and the sooner the revelation was made the better it would be.

"Your husband is all alone," she remarked, turning to her visitor. "Suppose we go and sit with him for a while. I have some sewing to do, and it will be much nicer out there than in the house."

Mr. Randall smiled as the women came and sat down by his side. He was pleased to see his wife looking better than she had for years. The city paper, which had arrived at noon, was lying unopened on a little table by his side which Jess had placed there to hold the books and cigars which she hoped he would use. She had left him to go with John and the hired man into the hay field. She was never happier than when out in the open, and John was always delighted to have her with him. Their hearts were full of love, and the world seemed filled with peace and joy on this beautiful summer afternoon.

As the two women sat under the shade of the tree and talked, Mr. Randall listened for a while in a somewhat absent-minded manner. At length be reached out his hand and took the newspaper from off the table. He read first the financial news which interested him most of all. Then he turned over the pages and glanced carelessly at the events of the day. The various accounts of political meetings, murders, and local incidents had little or no appeal to him, and he was about to lay the paper aside when something caught his eye, which arrested his immediate attention, and caused an exclamation of surprise to escape his lips.

"What is it, Henry?" his wife asked. "Anything special?"

"I should say there is," was the emphatic reply. "Donaster has been arrested for forgery."

Mrs. Randall gave a startled cry, and leaned excitedly forward.

"Arrested!" she exclaimed. "How terrible!"

"Yes, it certainly is," Randall replied, as he rapidly scanned the article. "He is not the son of Lord Donaster, for there is no such person by that name. That fellow is an impostor, and his father is a shoemaker in the United States. His real name, so this paper says, is William Lukie, and the police have been on his tracks for some time for forging the names of several prominent business men. So that's the end of that rascal, and I'm not sorry."

Mr. Randall put down the paper, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Mrs. Hampton had let her sewing drop upon her lap, and her eyes were fixed full upon the invalid's face. She was thinking rapidly, and her heart beat fast, for she had made up her mind that the great revelation must be made at all cost.

"So your daughter, then, will no longer be troubled with that man," she remarked as casually as possible.

"Certainly not," Randall replied. "It has been a very narrow escape."

"And you wanted to force her to marry him last fall, did you not?"

"We did, we did, fools that we were."

"Then Jess was right in taking matters into her own hands."

"She really was; I see it now. That girl has a great deal of common sense."

"I suppose you will let her choose for herself after this?"

"The man she wishes to marry, do you mean? H'm, I guess she has chosen already, from every appearance. I'm satisfied, if you are. I certainly would like to have John as a son. He would be a great help to me in my business. I wish I could say the same about my own boys."

"And if they should marry, you would get another son, while I should get a daughter. It would be a satisfactory arrangement on both sides, would it not?"

"It certainly would. Nothing would please me better."

Randall was greatly surprised as Mrs. Hampton rose suddenly to her feet and stood before him. She was trembling violently, and she laid her hand upon the table for support.

"What is the matter?" he asked. "Are you sick?"

"No, no, I am not sick. But I want to tell you something—a confession. Listen. John is your own real son, and Jess is my daughter. There, now you know the truth."

A startled cry from Mrs. Randall followed this announcement, which caused Mrs. Hampton to wheel suddenly around. Mrs. Randall had sprung to her feet, and was standing before her.

"What did you say?" she demanded. "That John is our son? Is it true? Tell me, quick."

"Yes, it is true," Mrs. Hampton replied. "John is your son, and Jess is my daughter."

For an instant it seemed as if Mrs. Randall would fall to the ground, so overcome was she at this startling announcement. She stared at Mrs. Hampton as if she had not heard aright. Then she placed her hand to her forehead and sank upon the ground, while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Mr. Randall gazed at the two women in amazement. He looked first at one and then at the other.

"What is the meaning of all this?" he demanded. "John my son, and Jess your daughter! For God's sake, explain!"

With face as white as death, in a low voice, broken with emotion, Mrs. Hampton revealed to the astounded man the entire story of the exchange of the two babies in the hospital almost twenty years before. When she had finished she stood silently before Randall, waiting for his reply. What would his answer be? she asked herself. Never for an instant had he taken his eyes from her face as she related the pathetic story of motherly shame. Would he now scorn her and his wife, and spurn them from him as unworthy of the name of women?

Presently Randall gave a deep sigh, and turned to his wife.

"Is this story true, Helen?" he asked.

"It is true, Henry, true in every word," the woman moaned, lifting her tear-stained face to his. "But forgive us, for the love of heaven forgive us! We have sinned, but we have suffered. Oh, it has been terrible!"

So vehement was her emotion that she rose and stood once more before her husband by Mrs. Hampton's side. An intense silence reigned for a few seconds, and then Mr. Randall motioned them to sit down.

"You need not get so excited," he told them, as wearily they both sank down in their chairs. "I am amazed at what I have just heard, but I hope I am not brute enough to increase your agony. You both have committed a great sin, but you have suffered enough, so I gather, to atone for the past."

"And you forgive us?" his wife eagerly asked, looking at him with tear-dimmed eyes.

"Certainly I forgive you. What else should I do? But why did you not tell me about this before, Helen?"

"I was afraid, Henry. And you know you would have condemned me had I told you even a month ago."

"I believe you are right, Helen," was the quiet reply. "But I have changed a great deal since then. I have been at death's door, and see things in another light. And besides, I would not have known then where and who my son is. But I know now, so that makes all the difference."

In Mrs. Randall's eyes appeared an expression such as her husband had not seen there for many years. It thrilled him, and carried him back to the first happy year of their wedded life. Rising to her feet, she came swiftly toward him, knelt by his side, placed her arms about his neck and gave him a loving kiss. Tears were in her eyes, but they were tears of joy now, and her heart was happy.

Mrs. Hampton was about to steal quietly away and leave the two alone with their new-found joy, when the sound of voices coming toward them caused her to hesitate.

"They are coming!" she announced, "and we must tell them! What will they think?"

Across the field came the young lovers, talking and laughing in the gayest of spirits. Their faces were flushed with vigourous exercise, and every motion of their bodies betokened abounding health. Life was very sweet to them on this bright summer day as they advanced toward the silent group anxiously awaiting their coming beneath the spreading branches of the friendly old apple tree.



CHAPTER XXX

JOY AT EVENTIDE

It was early that evening as Jess kissed her father and advised him to go to sleep at once.

"You are tired, daddy, after the excitement of the day, so you need a good long rest."

"I suppose I do," was the reply. "But it will be somewhat hard to get to sleep after the events of the afternoon. Isn't it wonderful, Jess, what a change has come over your mother? I never saw anything like it."

"A great burden has been lifted from her mind, that's the reason. And, daddy, you forgive me for what I did?"

"Certainly, dear, certainly. But I am not your father any longer, remember."

"Oh, yes you are," and the girl smiled. "Just behave as you have since your accident, and I wouldn't change you for any man I know."

"Be careful, be careful what you say, Jess. I am not altogether blind and deaf."

A rich flush overspread the girl's cheeks, and her eyes sparkled as she turned them upon her father's face. She understood the meaning of his words.

"I want you always as my father," she replied; "that is what I mean. But, there, you cannot get to sleep if I stay here and chatter."

"Where are you going, Jess?"

"Over to see how Eben is getting along."

"That is good. And you will tell him what we were talking about this afternoon, will you not? I hope he will agree to my plan."

"I believe he will, daddy, and I am so glad you are going to do something for him. He is a fine boy, and we owe him much for what he did at Island Lake."

Giving her father another kiss, Jess hurried downstairs and found John waiting for her upon the verandah. It was a beautiful evening, calm and mild. The western sky was aglow with the glory of departing day, and the shades of night were slowly stealing over the land. The two spoke but little as they walked, slowly across the field toward the Tobin house. It was the first time they had been alone since they had heard the wonderful news that afternoon under the apple tree. They longed to speak about it, and yet a natural reserve restrained them. They both felt that the time had now arrived when the great question must be decided, and this thought affected their free and easy manner of the past. But they were happy in each other's company, so words were unnecessary.

They found Eben lying in an invalid's chair upon the verandah, with the captain sitting by his side. He was still very weak, and the marks of the burns were visible upon his face. He smiled as the visitors drew near and sat down upon the steps. His old jealousy and animosity toward John had disappeared.

"How are you feeling this evening?" Jess asked.

"Somewhat better, I guess," was the reply.

"He's a great deal better, Miss," the captain declared. "I'm merely judgin' by the way he eats, fer that's allus a sure sign with Eben of jist how he's feeling."

The captain was in excellent spirits, for his foot was almost well, and he was hoping to be back upon the river in a few days. He was also greatly pleased at what Eben had done at Island Lake, and the praise he had received, especially in the newspapers. In fact, the latter were almost worn out, so often had he read the articles, and shown them to every person who came to the house.

"Yes," he continued, "Eben's appetite's all right, an' I expect it'll be hard to keep him filled, when we git back on the boat."

"I don't want to go back on the boat," Eben replied. "I'm sick of it."

"Ye'll have to git over yer sickness, then," the captain reminded. "I can't git along without ye, an' what is there fer ye to do if ye don't go on the boat?"

"Oh, I'll find something, dad. I'm not worryin' about that now."

"How would you like to study civil engineering?" Jess asked.

Eben looked at her with surprise, wondering whether he had heard aright. Then he smiled, somewhat wistfully.

"I mean it," Jess insisted. "Father is willing to send you to college, and pay all your expenses. Isn't it great?"

"Great!" Eben fairly shouted the word, weak though he was. "Send me to college to be a civil engineer! Say yer jist foolin', ain't ye?"

"Indeed I am not. Daddy is willing and ready to do all he can to help you, so there."

"But what am I to do?" the captain demanded. "If Eben goes to college, I'll be left alone on the 'Eb an' Flo.' Guess I might as well close up bizness, too."

"Oh, daddy will make that all right, Captain. We talked it over this afternoon, so if you agree to let Eben go to college, he will arrange with you about the boat. Daddy is very much interested in the scheme."

"H'm, it seems to me he's changed a great deal since the night he was here asking about you. He was like a roarin' lion then."

"He has changed, Captain, until I hardly know him. I believe it was his narrow escape from death which did it. He is so gentle now, and a real companion. I am so thankful! And you will agree to let Eben go, won't you?"

"Guess we'll have to see Martha an' Flo, Miss. They'll have the most to say. But mebbe they'll agree, fer they'd like to see the boy git on."

"Where do I come in on this?" Eben unexpectedly asked. "I'm goin' to college, no matter what anyone says. I'm old enough now to think fer myself, an' I'm goin' to."

"Tut, tut, Eben," his father chided. "Ye needn't git on yer high-horse. Sartinly yer goin' to college. Yer ma an' Flo'll agree. I'll jist go after 'em. They're doin' the chores. We might as well git this matter settled while you're here, Miss. It'll smooth things somewhat to have you present. You kin explain to Martha better'n I kin."

The captain stepped off the verandah, and limped around the corner of the house in the direction of the barn. No sooner had he disappeared than Eben leaned eagerly toward his visitors.

"Yell both forgive me, won't ye, fer throwin' that stone?" he whispered.

"At the quarry, you mean?" Jess asked.

"Yes, that, an' the stick on the shore. The devil got into me, I guess."

"Certainly I forgive you, Eben, for what you did to me, and I know John will do the same."

"Indeed I will," the latter agreed. "You have made up for all that many times over. You risked your life for my mother and Miss Randall. We can never repay you."

"I don't think I'd a done it but fer that stone, Miss. Ye see, I couldn't git it out of my mind, so I wanted to make up in some way fer the harm I did. That was my only chance."

"And were you really thinking of that when you came through the fire to save us?" Jess asked in surprise.

"Yes, Miss, I was. I'm awful sorry fer what I did. I was a big fool, all right."

Just then his father returned, so nothing more was said about the matter.

"They won't come," the captain announced. "They say they're not dressed to receive company, an' I guess they're right. Martha does sartinly git on queer togs when she looks after the barn an' the chickens. I wish to goodness, Miss, ye'd slip out an' surprise her. It'd be a fine joke."

"Oh, that wouldn't be fair," Jess laughingly replied. "I wouldn't like for anyone to do that to me. We can come again."

Having bidden the captain and his son good-night, the young couple strolled down through the field toward the shore. The darkness had now deepened, but before them flowed the river, touched with the last rich rosy tints of the departed sun.

"Isn't it beautiful!" Jess exclaimed, as she stopped and looked out upon the water. "This is a perfect ending of a perfect day."

"It has truly been a wonderful day," John replied, "but I am not sure yet about the perfect ending. That remains to be seen."

"In what way, John? Could anything be more perfect than this?"

"Come, and I will explain," was all the young man said, as once more they moved forward,

They passed along the path leading to Beech Cove, and when near the shore, they sat down upon an old log which years before had been stranded upon the beach.

"This is where Eben threw the stick," Jess remarked, as she looked around. "He has changed a great deal since then. He was not one bit jealous of you to-night."

John laughed as he nervously tore off a splinter from the log and broke it into bits. "I had two rivals then, but now I have none. One has repented of his own free will, while the other will trouble you no longer. Are you glad?"

"I suppose I should be," the girl slowly replied.

"And it will not be necessary to run away from your father now, and work for your own living," John continued. "So that matter is settled."

"But I have no father now," was the low response. "You have taken my place, so if I don't work I shall have to depend upon my own mother for a living, and I could not think of doing that."

"But you will have plenty, Jess. Your father, I mean my father. Dear me, I am all mixed up. Suppose I say, 'Our father'? Anyway, he wants me to go to the city, and help him in his business, which he says is too much for him to manage alone. He told me this afternoon that he would do what he could for the developing of the mine, and feels quite sure that he will succeed. Now, if we change places everything will be terribly mixed up. There is only one way out of it, Jess, and you know what that is. You must be my wife. It is you I want more than anything else in the world. I asked you once before, and you told me to wait. But now I can wait no longer. Oh, Jess, tell me that you love me, and will be my wife."

For a few seconds an intense silence reigned. Then the girl, her eyes misty with tears, turned her face to her lover's, and laid her hand in his.

"Take me, John," she simply said. "I am yours."

With his face radiant with joy, John enfolded her in his arms, and pressed his lips to hers.

"I agree with you now," he whispered, "that this is a perfect ending of a perfect day."

"And the beginning of many perfect days, let us hope," was the girl's low, happy reply.



THE END