No one knew or could have guessed that poor Martin was heeding the doctor's words, but he was. He had stopped drinking. Not a drop of liquor had passed his lips for weeks, and the craving was stronger at times than Martin could endure. At such moments he stole to the outshed and, gripping a certain little ragged jacket, which still hung there, to his twitching face, would moan: "Oh! God, help me for Sandy's sake." Not for his own--but for Sandy's sake always. And God heard and upheld the weak creature. Then came the night when Mary and Molly aroused Martin from his sleep as they came in about midnight. Martin had supposed them upstairs long before. He had come in at nine o'clock from the shed where he had wrestled with his craving and, by the help of God, had come out victorious once again. He had fallen asleep soon after and a vivid and strange dream had held him captive by its power. Sandy had come to him clearly, and comfortingly; had sat close to him and laid his hand in his. They had talked familiarly, and then suddenly the boy had asked: "Dad, how about Molly? She belongs to us-all, you said. I've been thinking about Molly; where is she?" Just then the dream faded; the man on the hard settle pulled himself up, looked dazedly at the almost dead fire and--listened! Some one was fumbling at the door; some one was coming in! Martin's heart stood still for, with the dream fresh in his mind, he thought it was Sandy, and even through his sick longing for the boy a fear seized him. But Mary came into the dim room with Molly clinging to her. They tiptoed across the floor toward the stairway and had almost reached it when Martin flung a log of wood on the fire, and in the quick flash of light that followed stood up and asked in a clear, forceful voice: "Whar you-all been?" The strangeness and surprise took Mary off her guard, and she faltered: "What's that to you, Mart Morley?" Martin threw another log on the fire, as if by so doing he could illuminate more than the cold black room. "What yo-all been doing? Molly, come here." Frightened and trembling the girl came forward. She looked far older than her years. Her bold, coarse beauty had developed amazingly during the past few months, and the expression on her face now roused all the dormant manhood in Morley's nature. Ignoring the woman by the stairway, he gripped Molly by the shoulders, and holding her so that the lurid light of the flaming logs fell upon her, he drove his questions into the girl's consciousness and brought alarmed truth forth before a lie could master it. "Whar yo' been, Molly?" "Up to--to Teale's." "What--doing?" "Dancing for 'em." Martin's eyes flashed. It was quite plain to him now--the hideous, drunken orgy, and this little girl fanning ugly passions into fire by her youth and beauty!