While in some doubt as to the legal sufficiency of this instrument, McAllister felt that its intendment was unmistakable. Having replaced his pen, he carefully folded the document and thrust it into his pocket. Just at this moment Miss Higgins announced the return of Deacon Brewer, who was wheeling slowly into the gate. Toward the orchard McAllister could see, as he stepped to the door, little Abby still tugging along Wilkins, whose massive and emotionless face was glistening with the heat. "Hit's very 'ot, sir!" he remarked tentatively to his master. "I've been to see the 'ives." "How funny Mr. Wilkins talks!" said Abby. "He told me he knew a boy once who got stung, and said the bee _bit 'im in 'is 'ead_! Do all drummers talk like that?" "Drummers!" exclaimed Wilkins. "Aunt said you were both drummers; I s'pose you left your drums somewhere. I don't like 'em; they make too much music. They have them in the circus parade in Bangor every year." "Be you folks ready to start?" inquired Deacon Brewer. "Purty nice view of the water from here, ain't they? There's a good well on the place, too, and a few boat-loads of manure would give you crops to beat--all. Don't know enybody thet wants to speckalate a little in farmin' land, do ye? This here is a good, likely place. Reckon you kin buy it cheap." "Sh-h!" said McAllister, laying his finger on his lips. "No one sha'n't ever buy this farm," said Abby; "I'm goin' to live here always." "Wall," said the Deacon, "better be movin'. I don't like to keep the mare standin' in the sun." "Are you goin' away?" cried Abby in agonized tones. "You'll come back soon, won't you?" "I hope so, very soon," said McAllister. "Don't you want to show me the boy-horse before I start?" "Oh, yes, yes!" she cried, seizing his hand. The stout clubman and the little girl walked slowly across the grass-grown drive to the daisy field beside the barn, talking busily. "Your friend's bought this farm," announced Miss Abby to Wilkins. "'Oly Moses!" ejaculated the valet. "By gum!" exclaimed the Deacon. "What did he give?" "Sixteen hundred and fifty dollars." "Gee!" said the Deacon. "An' we're to stay on rent-free 's long 's we want!" "I swan!" commented the pillar of the local Baptist Church. "Some folks doos hev luck!" He went over to adjust a bit of harness. "It'll keep 'em out o' the poor farm," he muttered. "But, by gosh, thet feller must be a fool!" Over in the daisy field, McAllister, to the wonder of the boy-horse, pulled the despised cigar from his pocket, cut off the end, and began to smoke with infinite satisfaction. "What a beautiful, beautiful, lovely ring!" exclaimed Abby joyfully, examining with delight the embossed paper of red and gold. "Do you remember about the lonely man who lived in the big white house I told you of?" asked McAllister. "Of course I do," sighed Abby. "Poor man! he was so good, and nobody loved him." "Do you love him?" asked McAllister.