Kent shrugged his shoulders. "Poor old scout! He'll have to make a new start in the West. But isn't it glorious news, Lyd! The land reverts to the Government and the Land Office opens it, just as in pioneer days. Everybody who's title's in question now can reenter under settlement laws. Isn't Levine a wizard! Why don't you say something, Lydia?" "I don't know what to say," said Lydia. "I'm sick at heart for the Indians. But I'm glad that the awful temptation of the pines is going to be taken away from Lake City. Though how good can come out of a wrong, I'm not sure. I don't understand Mr. Levine. Oh, dear! It's all wrong. When do the Indians go?" "The last of June. It's funny, Lydia, that you don't have more sympathy with my work," replied Kent, gloomily. "Oh, Kent!" cried Lydia, "I want to believe that everything you do is right but something's the matter with my mind, I seem to have to decide matters of right and wrong for myself. When will Mr. Levine come home?" "Next month. Well, there's one consolation. You've always been crazy about Levine and you don't approve of him, either." Lydia flushed. "Oh, I don't say that I don't approve of him. I just don't understand him. Maybe he really believes the end justifies the means." "Huh! Isn't that just what I believe?" demanded Kent. He looked at her so happily, his boyish eyes so appealing, his square chin so belligerent, that Lydia suddenly laughed and gave his ear a tweak. "Poor old vanity! Did he want all the ladies to adore him? Well, they do, so cheer up!" Kent grinned. "Lyd, you're a goose and a good old pal! Hang it, I'm glad you've got brain enough to stick to your own opinions!" On a Sunday afternoon, late in June, John Levine turned in at the gate as casually as though he had left but the day before. Lydia was inspecting the garden with her father, when she heard Adam bark and whine a welcome to some one. "Oh, there he is, Daddy!" she cried, and she dashed down the rows of young peas, her white skirts fluttering, both hands extended. John seized her hands and for a moment the two stood smiling and looking into each other's face. Except that he was grayer, Levine was unchanged. He broke the silence to say, "Well! Well! young Lydia, you are grown up. I don't see how you manage to look so grown up, when your face remains unchanged." "It's my hair," said Lydia, "and my skirts." "Of course," growled Amos, "I realize that I count only as Lydia's father. Still I think you ought to recognize me, anyhow." The two men clasped hands. "Well, Amos?" "It's been a long time between drinks, John." "I know it, Amos, but my chore's done. Now, I'll stay home and enjoy life. Lydia, is it too hot for waffles and coffee, for supper? Lord, I've dreamed of those old days and of this meeting for nine months." "It's not too hot for anything on earth you can ask for," returned Lydia, beginning to roll up her sleeves. "I'll go right in and start them now."