Silently the small man put his arms round her neck and hugged her hard--an unusual demonstration for Little Buck. And during her entire stay he hung close about, somewhat to Nancy's annoyance, seeming to find plentiful joy in the contemplation of his recovered treasure. The loss of Creed had meant a good deal to Nancy. More like a son than a boarder in her house, he had brought with him a sense of support and competence such as the hard-worked little woman had never known. With his going, she was back again in the old helpless, moneyless situation, with Pony on her hands a growing problem and anxiety, and Doss Provine but a broken reed on which to lean. Such inquiries after Creed as they managed to set afoot fetched no return. "Hit ain't like Creed to be scared and keep runnin'," she would repeat pathetically. "I know in reason something awful has chanced to that boy. Either that, or it's like they're all beginning to say, he's wedded and gone to Texas same as his cousin Cyarter done. Cyarter Bonbright run away with a gal on the night she was to have wedded another feller--tuck her right out of the country and went to Texas. That's Bonbright nature: they ain't much on sweet-heartin' an' sech, but when they git it, they git it hard." She laid a loving hand on the girl's shoulder, and leaned around to look frankly into the beautiful, melancholy, dark face with the direct, honest grey eyes that would admit no concealments between herself and those whom she really cared for. "I speak right out to you, Jude," she said kindly, "'caze I see how hit's been between you an' Creed, an' hit'll hurt you less if you get used to the idy of givin' him up. Him treated the way he was, I don't know as I'd blame him." But Judith could have blamed him. It was only when despair pressed too hard that she could say she would be glad to know he was alive even though he belonged to somebody else. Yet to credit Blatch's story for a moment, to think he had gone that night with Huldah Spiller, was to open the heart's door on such a black vista of treachery and double-dealing in Creed's conduct, to so utterly discredit his caring for herself, that she had no defence but to disbelieve the whole tale, and this she was generally able to do. But as far away as Hepzibah a small event was preparing that should break the monotony of Judith's grievous days. Venters Drane, the elder's twelve-year-old boy, going to school in the village, fell ill of diphtheria. When word was brought to the father--a widower and wise--he loaded his three younger children and their small belongings into the waggon and drove over to the Turrentine place.