Mr. Bowers no longer doubted it. Disappointed as he undoubtedly was at first,--and even self-deceived,--he recognized in a flash the grim fact that the boy had stated. He recalled the apparition of the sad-faced woman in the wood--her distressed manner, that to his inexperienced mind now took upon itself the agitated trembling of disturbed mystic inspiration. A sense of sadness and remorse succeeded his first shock of disappointment. “Well, are ye going to buy the woods?” said Bob, eying him grimly. “Ye'd better say.” Mr. Bowers started. “I shouldn't wonder, Bob,” he said, with a smile, gathering up his reins. “Anyhow, I'm comin' back to see your mother this afternoon. And meantime, Bob, you keep the first chance for me.” He drove away, leaving the youthful diplomatist standing with his bare feet in the dust. For a minute or two the young gentleman amused himself by a few light saltatory steps in the road. Then a smile of scornful superiority, mingled perhaps with a sense of previous slights and unappreciation, drew back his little upper lip, and brightened his mottled cheek. “I'd like ter know,” he said, darkly, “what this yer God-forsaken famerly would do without ME!” CHAPTER V It is to be presumed that the editor and Mr. Hamlin mutually kept to their tacit agreement to respect the impersonality of the poetess, for during the next three months the subject was seldom alluded to by either. Yet in that period White Violet had sent two other contributions, and on each occasion Mr. Hamlin had insisted upon increasing the honorarium to the amount of his former gift. In vain the editor pointed out the danger of this form of munificence; Mr. Hamlin retorted by saying that if he refused he would appeal to the proprietor, who certainly would not object to taking the credit of this liberality. “As to the risks,” concluded Jack, sententiously, “I'll take them; and as far as you're concerned, you certainly get the worth of your money.”