The color had come back to Agnes’s cheeks and the light to her eyes. “Thank you for telling me that,” she said, as the boat’s landing was made. “No, don’t come back with me; it is early still, the sky is quite light, but you have to go across, and you will have quite a distance to ride before you reach Dod Hunter’s.” “I feel singularly free and happy,” said Parker, holding her hands. “It is a good thing sometimes to throw one’s troubles overboard. But for you, Agnes Kennedy, I should not have done it. I’ve not exactly burnt my ships behind me, but I’ve thrown care to the winds, and I mean to be as happy as you will let me.” “As I will let you?” Agnes’s blue eyes opened wide. “As you will let me; I repeat it. Good night, good night, little girl. Run home quickly. I shall stand here and wait till I know you must be safe.” Agnes ran up the steep path, and having gained the top of the hill she looked back. He was still there. He waved his hand to her, and then she disappeared over the brow of the hill. CHAPTER XIII PLOTTING It was two days after that Dod Hunter appeared at the clearing. Agnes was busy outside the house at the hominy block; it took a deal of hominy these days to satisfy so large a family. “Park Willett here?” asked Dod, abruptly. “No, he is not.” Agnes paused in her work and came forward. “Humph!” ejaculated Uncle Dod. He looked at her sharply and appeared to be considering something. “Isn’t he at your house?” Agnes asked anxiously. Dod shook his head. “He left here on Tuesday,” Agnes went on. “Tuesday evening just before dark. I saw him get into his boat about sundown; he was going to your house from the other side. Did you come around that way?” “No, I come by the ford.” “It is very strange, for he told me he would be staying at your house till his own was ready for him.” Dod moved uneasily in his saddle, then he slipped down and led the horse away some distance. “Come here, Nance,” he said, “I’ve got to look into this. You ain’t the faintin’ kind, I know, but there’s something wrong, I’m satisfied. Now, don’t look so skeered; I reckon we’ll get at the bottom of it. Is there anybody about here that ’ud be likely to be an inimy o’ hisn?” Agnes shook her head. “No one that I know of. He never seemed to have any very intimate friends, but he is always pleasant to everybody, and I think nearly every one has a good word for him.” Dod wagged his head again. “Nobody want to rob him o’ anythin’?” Agnes paused before she answered. She thought first of the miniatures, but who would want such purely personal things? Then like a flash came a thought of the will. Parker carried that. Humphrey Muirhead knew it would be in his possession. “There is something,” she said breathlessly; “it is the will, Uncle Dod, my grandfather Muirhead’s will. Mr. Willett has that and Hump Muirhead knows it.”