I laid the baby in her lap and slipped out to tell Mrs. Kane. In six weeks Evvie was helping her mother with the housework. Spring came, and I bribed her to work in the garden by supplying the preposterously growing Bennie with clothes. By June she was again intrenched in her loveliness; not quite so plump, but round enough, and with her old wild-rose color. By and by she was duly divorced. Judd, in South Carolina, made no protest. Evvie’s perilous excursion seemed over, with no obvious reminder save the incredible baby. She wore the fashionable knee dress, and with her hair in unfashionable braids down her back seemed to be the child-sister of the youngster that scrambled about her. “Your little brother will soon be big enough to go to school with you,” said the new County Commissioner on his rounds, hoping to be pleasant. Evvie stood mute and fiery red. “Don’t tell him the baby’s mine, mommie,” she whispered later to her mother. It must have seemed strange to her--that bubbling other existence around her feet--and a little embarrassment was, I thought, quite proper. With autumn and corn-gathering Judd returned. It was a good season in the woods for the blockaders, and Judd had probably made arrangements in the “South” for profitable sales. He announced that he was buying calves for the winter and wanted to lay in a supply of feed for them. I never heard of his purchasing any calves, but he went about getting a little corn here and there at the cheap harvest price. Perhaps some one told him that his boy was a lad to be proud of, for he came one day to see him. I had walked over to the Kanes with Cleve, and we were about to take our leave. Evvie shook hands with Judd quite prettily. “Golly, Evvie, you’ve come back hard!” he said. “Let’s set on the porch.” He had forgotten his son, but Evvie brought him out, and Judd had difficulty in maintaining indifference. He looked about and saw Cleve. “Hello, Cleve I This chap kinder takes my eye.” “I reckon,” said Cleve, “he ain’t so fine as Lizzie Bowles’s boy.” “That kid ain’t none o’ mine,” said Judd, too quickly. “Lizzie’ll give you a chance to swear to that, anyhow.” “What yer warmin’ chair-bottoms round here fer, Cleve Saunders?” “He’s here,” said Evvie, her cheeks pink-spotted, “’cause he’s the best friend the baby’s got.” “I’m the kid’s father, don’t you fergit, an’ I’ve got some rights. That divorce judge didn’t put no paper ’twixt me an’ the kid.” “You can see him whenever you want to,” said Evvie, “so long as you don’t make trouble fer anybody that’s been as good to us as Cleve.” Their eyes met and battled--no doubt reminiscently--and Judd capitulated. “All right,” he said. From that time Evvie was sorely troubled by his visits. “I wouldn’t mind his comin’,” she said, “if he didn’t keep aggervatin’ me to live with him.” “Why don’t you take Cleve, Evvie, and end the bother?”