For the first time since he came to the farm Matt felt an impulse to leave his employer. It was with great difficulty, indeed, that he refrained from throwing down his hoe, going to the house after his few effects, and quitting the place forever. But he did not, and went resolutely on with his work. Fortunate for him was it--though he did not know it then--that he did so. Later on, he could see that the ruling of his spirit that day won for him, if not a city, certainly the happiest results, though severe trials stood between him and their consummation. That night, at as early an hour as possible, Matt sought his little room. Closing the door carefully after him, he walked over to the rude rack on the wall and took down his light overcoat. From an inside pocket he drew a long wallet, and from that, a postal card. Addressing it with a pencil to "A. H. Dinsmore, 1143 Washington Avenue, Brooklyn, N.Y.," he wrote rapidly and in small characters on the reverse side, without giving place or date, the following words: "DEAR SIR: My promise to send you some money every month until the total amount due you was paid, I cannot keep for this reason: Through a misunderstanding with my employer, I am not to have my pay until the six months for which I have hired out are ended. At that time you may expect a remittance from me. "Truly yours, "M. R." It was several days later, however, before Matt had an opportunity to go to the neighboring village. When he did so, he took care not to drop the postal into the post office, but handed it directly to a mail agent on a passing train. His reason for this act could not be easily misunderstood. Evidently, he did not care that the Mr. Dinsmore to whom he had written should know his exact whereabouts. But his precaution was unnecessary; for, before the summer months had run by, he was to meet Mr. Dinsmore under circumstances most trying to himself. CHAPTER III. SWEPT OUT TO SEA. Mr. Noman's farm was a large one, and ran clear down to the shore, terminating there in a singular formation of sand and rocks, known throughout that region as "The Camel Humps." A small cove lay west of the formation, while the main waters of the sound stretched out to their widest extent from the south and east. The only point, therefore, where the "humps" touched the mainland was at the north, and even this point of contact was so narrow as simply to furnish a roadway down upon the "humps" themselves.