“Ain't they pretty things?” he said. “I'll be getting her some of those later. They are like lily faces, turtle-head flowers, dewdrops in the shade or moonlight; but they haven't the life in them that I want in the stone I give to the Angel right now.” Freckles heaped the pearls with the emeralds. He studied the diamonds a long time. “These things are so fascinating like they almost tempt one, though they ain't quite the proper thing,” he said. “I've always dearly loved to be watching yours, sir. I must get her some of these big ones, too, some day. They're like the Limberlost in January, when it's all ice-coated, and the sun is in the west and shines through and makes all you can see of the whole world look like fire and ice; but fire and ice ain't like the Angel.” The diamonds joined the emeralds and pearls. There was left a little red heap, and Freckles' fingers touched it with a new tenderness. His eyes were flashing. “I'm thinking here's me Angel's stone,” he exulted. “The Limberlost, and me with it, grew in mine; but it's going to bloom, and her with it, in this! There's the red of the wild poppies, the cardinal-flowers, and the little bunch of crushed foxfire that we found where she put it to save me. There's the light of the campfire, and the sun setting over Sleepy Snake Creek. There's the red of the blood we were willing to give for each other. It's like her lips, and like the drops that dried on her beautiful arm that first day, and I'm thinking it must be like the brave, tender, clean, red heart of her.” Freckles lifted the ruby to his lips and handed it to McLean. “I'll be signing me cheque and you have it set,” he said. “I want you to draw me money and pay for it with those very same dollars, sir.” Again the heart of McLean took hope. “Freckles, may I ask you something?” he said. “Why, sure,” said Freckles. “There's nothing you would be asking that it wouldn't be giving me joy to be telling you.” McLean's eyes traveled to Freckles' right arm with which he was moving the jewels. “Oh, that!” cried Freckles with a laugh. “You're wanting to know where all the bitterness is gone? Well sir, 'twas carried from me soul, heart, and body on the lips of an Angel. Seems that hurt was necessary in the beginning to make today come true. The wound had always been raw, but the Angel was healing it. If she doesn't care, I don't. Me dear new father doesn't, nor me aunt and uncle, and you never did. Why should I be fretting all me life about what can't be helped. The real truth is, that since what happened to it last week, I'm so everlastingly proud of it I catch meself sticking it out on display a bit.” Freckles looked the Boss in the eyes and began to laugh. “Well thank heaven!” said McLean.