"But she was!" the boy cried, bounding out upon the floor. "She was and--Great God, I can hardly believe it, I don't realize it! I have been so swallowed up that I haven't thought about her much lately--she's crazy, Jim. Oh, she must be. She was the purest-minded girl----" The giant stopped him with an uplifting of his ponderous hand. "Don't say any more. Don't say she _was_ pure-minded. She _is_ pure-minded. I will find her and she shall tell me----" "She can't tell you anything to clear herself, Jim. She's lost--she's crazy." "She's an angel," said the giant. "My dear Jim, she's my sister and I loved her, but angels can't go----" "Don't say it." "I won't, but don't you be foolish. Truth is truth, and we have to look at it whether we want to or not." He walked up and down the room. "Who would have thought that such a thing could happen?" he went on. "It's a dream. But why did she leave home when she knew how much we all loved her? What made her run away from you when she knew how you loved her? Jim, I'm going home to-day. Are you coming with me?" "No, I'm going to stay here and look for her." "And when you have found her she'll treat you as she did me. She'll say she has as much right there as you have. I don't believe it's any use. Better come home with me." "No, I'm going to look for her, and if she'll marry me I'll bring her home." "Jim, she is my sister, but--I won't say it. I love her, but I would rather have seen her dead than where I saw her last night. I'm going home." "Wait a moment." For a time he pondered and then he said: "You may tell your mother, but don't tell the Major." "But why should it be kept from him? He ought to know it. We'll have to tell him some time." "Some time, may be, but not now, and don't you even hint it to him, and don't you tell Sallie. Don't tell any one but your mother. Do you hear?" "Yes, and I reckon you're right. I'll do as you tell me. Well, it's time and I'm going." Jim went with him to the levee, saw him on a boat and then resumed his search throughout the town. But he asked no questions; and three days later when he went aboard the home-bound boat, he knew no more than he had known the night when the boy had told his story. CHAPTER XX. The night was rainy and a fierce wind was blowing. The Major and his wife were by the fire in the sitting-room, when there came a heavy tread upon the porch, but the knock that fell upon the door was gentle. They knew who had come, and the door was opened for Jim Taylor. Quietly he responded to their greeting, and with both hands he took off his slouch hat, went to the fireplace and over the blaze shook it. "Put myself in mind of a wet dog," he said. "Didn't think to shake outside. How are you all getting along?" He was looking at Mrs. Cranceford, but the Major answered him. "In the same old way. Tilt that cat out of the rocking-chair and sit down."