The scout went to and fro for another ten minutes, splitting more chunks, piling them ready to her hand within. Meanwhile his beneficiary, the old woman, seemed to have got a little light on the surprising situation. Grunting inarticulately, chewing her bewilderment between her teeth, she disappeared into a room off the kitchen and returned holding forth a ten-cent piece to her knight. "No, thanks! I'm a boy scout. We don't take money for doing a good turn." Leon shook his head. "Say! this old house is so draughty; you burn all the wood you want to-night; I'll run over to-morrow or next day an' split some more. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go? You've got enough water in from the well," he peered into the water-pail, which winked satisfactorily. Ma'am Baldwin had sunk upon a chair, alternately looking in perplexity at the energetic boy, and listening to the frisky gusts: "My sen-ses! Whatever's come over you, Leon?" she gasped; and then wailingly: "Deary me! if it should blow up a gale to-night, some things in this house'll ride out." "No, it isn't going to blow up a storm," Leon reassured her. "The wind's not really high, only it gets such a rake over the marshes. Here, I'll tie these old shutters together for you, the fastening is broken," and the coil of string was produced from his pocket for a new purpose. "But it must be _awful_ lonely for you, living here by yourself, Ma'am Baldwin. You'll be snowed in later on; we'll have to come and dig you out." Still chewing the cud of her bewilderment, she stared at him, mumbling, nodding, and stroking the gray hair from her forehead with nervous fingers. But there was a humid light in the old eyes that spilled over on the boy as he worked. "Why don't you go to live with your daughter an' your grandson in the town?" went on Leon as he tied together the last pair of flapping shutters. "And you're so fond of little Jack too; he's a nice kid!" "So he is!" nodded the grandmother; a change overspread her entire face now, she looked tender, grandmotherly, half-hopeful, as if for the moment trouble on behalf of her ne'er-do-well son was forgotten. "Well! perhaps I will move there before the winter sets in hard, Leon. I'm not so smart as I was. I'm sure I don't know how to thank you! Good-night!" "Good-night!" returned the scout. "You can untie those shutters easily enough in the morning." And he found himself outside again upon the dark marshland, with the obedient terrier who had trotted at his heels during the late proceedings, waltzing excitedly at his side. "Ah, la! la! as Toiney says, it's too late now, Blink, for us to put back to the town to buy our supper--half a pound of beefsteak and two potatoes, to be cooked over each one's special fire," muttered the boy, momentarily irresolute. "Well! we'll have to let the grub go, and race back across the uplands, over to the Hollow. Stir your trotters, Mr. Dog!"