Inspirited, Jack continued on his return over the fields. He walked evenly that he might not dislodge his pet. And he chatted appreciatively in the intervals of the song, to atone for his unappreciative past. “There are all sorts of musicians as you go nearer the Light, they tell me. There are pipers and harpers and trumpeters and countless choir-singers that almost make you long to die again for joy. But I’ll bet there’s none will sing so sweet as you, Dick. Once I’m satisfied to go on, I’ll take you with me and give you the chance you never had on Earth.” By now the two were well over the crest of the stream-skirted knoll. Toward them, from the direction of the gate, spirits fluttered like leaves in a wind. Voices called out through the spaces--glad cries of greeting and wails of disappointment worn weak from repetition. As before, Jack shielded his eyes with one hand and peered about. And, as he peered, he vented a cry that was the aggregate of all certitude. His left hand he lifted to guard the bird, then started down the hill. From out the nether hazes a man-shade came climbing toward them. That he lately had arrived from Earth showed in the anxiety of his dark, strong face. When he saw who was shuffling toward him and recognized the excited, childish voice hailing him, he increased his pace. When they met, father and son: “Greetings, John Cabot!” “Jack Cabot, greetings!” The large and small hands gripped. “I had a feeling you were due,” explained the boy, conquering the first incoherency of his delight. “I guess Dick must have felt the same way. Did you hear him sing as we came over the hill? Oh, John, I’m so glad you’ve come! This is a wonderful place to be happy in. But you can’t be happy alone. I’ve come back ever so often, hoping that you or----” “Then you haven’t seen her yet?” “You mean?” For a moment the child-soul stared up at his father’s emotionful face. He stood on tip-toe to whisper his interpretation, lest the joy-jealous zephyrs snatch it away. “Not her--not _’Lores_!” “She came a month since. I am sure she would have been on the lookout for you, Jack. Strange you have not met.” “Maybe----” Jack shuddered. “It’s an awful journey over. Maybe she got so afraid of the snakes and the owls and the wild asses----” “There’s no stopping along the highway, son. Every soul survives the dread of death, they tell me. In reality, the transition between the two phases of existence is brief. At the gate they told me that she had passed through, but they refused so much as a hint at the direction she had taken. I’ve covered the border fields thoroughly since I came. Had concluded she must have found you and gone on.” His concern lowered like a shadow to Jack’s face. “It don’t seem like ’Lores to forget me. I’d never give up trying to find her.”