"Good morning, Miss Richardson," he said, as he extended his hand in a cold businesslike manner. Winnie paid no attention to his good morning, but brushing aside his extended hand she began fixing a white rose in the buttonhole of his coat as she said in a soft tone: "Jim, how would you feel if you were a girl and had gone and primed yourself all up nice so as to look sweet as possible, waiting for your fellow to come and say, 'Hello, Winnie, how sweet you look this morning!' but instead to see him come stalking through the trees as though he was monarch of all he surveyed, saying 'good morning, Miss Richardson.' Now, own up, Jim, that you deliberately planned that scheme to frighten me." "Well, but you see, my dear." "Yes, Jim, I see. I know all about it. You have been nerving yourself up to show that you did not care for me. You did it nicely. I thought you could not hold out more than a minute, but I think you did about two. And now you're smiling, calling me dear, and will not let go of my hand. You did not sleep well last night, did you?" "No, I did not." "Was Mrs. Felker nervous?" "Yes, she did not sleep a wink before two o'clock." "And how about Frank?" "Oh, he always sleeps like a log." "Say, Jim, why do you take such an interest in Frank; where did the Felkers get him?" "Boston, or somewhere East." "What is his name?" "Burroughs, they say." "Burroughs--Burroughs--he did not come from Salem, did he?" Winnie, noticing Jim's emotion, turned back to the original theme and continued: "And I suppose Juda was on your mind?" "Yes, she was, and still I know it is wrong to worry about her, but I shall never cease to love that little angel. You know, I have lots of love letters she wrote me? She used to bring them over into the lot herself and then turn her back while I read them. She said she could not bear to see a man read a love letter. She was like her mother, artful as she could be. She used to enjoy our love spats, as she called them; she would pretend to get mad and go pouting around all day and expect me to come and make up with her, and sometimes it required lots of coaxing, but, of course, she always gave in at last. You see, now she is gone, I cannot help thinking about those things, and that is not all the trouble with me, either." "That is enough, Jim. You need not tell your other troubles. Come along to the grove, I want to talk with you." Following the cart path they entered the woods, when she turned quickly and said: "Jim, I have something on my mind which I wish to unload, and you will not think me silly even if I am wrong?" "No, no," he replied with a searching look. "I like to have you confide in me." "Do you know, Jim, that I think there is a possible chance yet to find Juda alive." He sprang to his feet as he exclaimed, "Tell me, Winnie, tell me all you know!" "Do not get excited; I have no proof. Tell, me, Jim, all about the first day you were out hunting for Juda, who you saw and what they said?"