When at half-past six Captain Shadrach, having left Annabel and the boy in charge of the store, came home for supper, Isaiah had some news to tell him. It was surprising news. “You don't say!” exclaimed the Captain. “Well, well, I want to know! All the way from out West, eh? Sho! Where is he now?” Isaiah shook his head. “That's the funny part of it, he's gone,” he said. “Gone? Gone where?” “I don't know. All I know is he come and said he wanted to see Mary-'Gusta--I went up and told her and she come down to see him. I stayed up along of Zoeth until Debby T. came back from her shoppin' cruise. Then I come downstairs again and his hat and bag was gone. There wan't nobody here.” “Where was Mary-'Gusta? Where is she now?” “Up in her room, I cal'late. I heard her movin' round there a spell ago.” Shadrach went up the stairs, along the hall, and knocked at Mary's door. “Who is it?” asked a faint voice within. “It's your Uncle Shad, Mary-'Gusta. Can I come in?” “Yes.” He entered. There was no lamp and the room was dark. “Where are you?” he demanded. “Here, by the window, Uncle Shad.” She was sitting in the rocker by the window. He could not see her face, but as he bent and kissed her cheek he found it wet. “Mercy on us! You've been cryin'!” he declared. “Oh--Oh, no, I haven't! I--” “Rubbish! Yes, you have, too. Settin' alone up here in the dark and cryin'! Mary-'Gusta Lathrop, come here!” She had risen from the rocking-chair, but he seized her in his arms, sat down in the chair himself, and lifted her to his knee just as he used to do when she was the little Mary-'Gusta. “Now there, dearie,” he said. “You'll tell your Uncle Shad. What is it?” “Oh, nothing, Uncle Shad, dear. I was--I'm feeling just a little silly this afternoon, I guess. You mustn't ask me.” “All right, I won't ask--I'll tell. That young feller from out West, the feller with the uncommon name--Brown--Jones--Oh, no, Smith, that was it--he came cruisin' around here and--” “Uncle Shad, how did you know?” “A little bird told me. A long-legged bird without much hair on top--a bald-headed eagle, I cal'late he must be. Hops round our kitchen daytimes and roosts in the attic nights.” “Isaiah! Of course he would tell.” “Of course he would--BEIN' Isaiah. Well, this Smith critter, he came and--and--well, I guess you'll have to tell me the rest.” “There isn't much to tell. He came and--and then he went away again.” “Went away--where?” “Out to Carson City, I suppose.” “Ain't he comin' back any more?” “No.” “Why? Don't you want him to come, Mary-'Gusta?” “Oh, Uncle Shad, please don't. I don't feel as if I could answer. Don't ask me.” “There, there, dearie; don't you answer nothin'. You set still here and be my baby. I ain't had a chance to baby you for a long spell and it seems good.” Silence. Suddenly the Captain felt the head which nestled against his shoulder stir. “Uncle Shadrach,” said Mary-'Gusta, “what do you do when you want to forget?”