Zac seemed to enjoy the business as much as Ruth. He barked and plunged about as if cheering for the victor. Well into Cyrus's face Ruth rubbed the snow. "Take that, you horrid boy, and that, and that!" With a triumphant laugh she took her knees from his chest, jumped to her feet and ran away. And as she ran she expected just what happened. For Cyrus, also quickly on his feet, drew the backs of his mittens across his eyes for clearer vision, then sent a snowball toward the vanishing figure. It landed between her shoulders. But she ignored it, and ran into her own house without even a backward glance. For a moment Cyrus stood and watched her, then started homeward. It was a friendly enough parting, but it might have been different had they know how many years were to come and go before they met again. [Illustration] VIII A WORKER OF MIRACLES Something of a liar was Cyrus, in emergencies, but he told the truth when he said "lots of things have been done that never were done before; and mighty surprisin' things, too!" History bears him out. The stories of Grimm and Andersen are commonplace events besides the victories of Science. Interesting, indeed, would be the views of Galileo on wireless telegraphy, or Botticelli's opinion of the "movies," or even what language the British commander might have used at Bunker Hill had the Yankees employed aeroplanes. Since the impossible is now in daily use, the dream of the visionary in every home, incredible things have ceased to astonish. Fairy tales are coming true. So thought Dr. Alton, on the afternoon following that last interview between Ruth and Cyrus, when he was suddenly converted from incredulity to compulsory faith in an achievement which he had believed impossible. As he drove up to his own house Cyrus leaned out of the sitting room window and told him to go at once to Mrs. Heywood who had fallen on the stairs and broken a leg. Dr. Alton asked no questions, turned about and drove off. A few hundred yards along the road he met Mr. Heywood, who, much agitated, and traveling fast, as if trying to walk and run at the same time. The doctor stopped and the clergyman climbed in. As they started off Mr. Heywood exclaimed, out of breath: "How fortunate this is. I was afraid you might not be at home. Poor Alice, I fear, has broken her leg." "Yes, so I heard. I am on my way there." "On your way to my house?" "Of course." Mr. Heywood turned in surprise. "You say you--you knew of the accident?" "Yes." "But, Doctor, you couldn't. It happened less than ten minutes ago." "Cyrus told me. Perhaps somebody telephoned him." "But I have no telephone." Dr. Alton smiled. "Possibly somebody is a faster runner than you." "But no one was there except Alice, Ruth and myself." "Ruth may have done it." "Ruth has not left her mother. She is there now. And nobody else knows of it." For a moment Dr. Alton was silent. "Bad news travels fast, Mr. Heywood." "But not when there's nobody to carry it."