“There is one more thing, an' I hope you won't object to that, neither. It's about Jack. The child is at the age when he kin either grow up under good or--or what you might call bad influence, an' somehow I want--I've studied over it a lot lately--an' I want to take the thing in time. You don't believe exactly like other folks, but you are on the safe side--the safest, I might say. Jack thinks the sun rises an' sets in you”--Hoag's voice shook slightly--“I reckon it's because you treat the little fellow so friendly an' nice, an' it struck me that in case of any--you know--any possible accident to me that I'd like for you to be his guardian.” “His _guardian?_ I! Why, Mr. Hoag--” “Never mind; I know what you are goin' to say. You think you are too young, I reckon, but I've thought about it a lot, an' I really would feel better in--in my mind if you'd agree. I ain't--I can't say I am”--Hoag attempted a laugh of indifference--“actually countin' on the grave right _now_, but a feller like me has enemies. In fact, I may as well say I _know_ I have some, an' they wouldn't hesitate to settle me if they had a fair chance. I've writ it all down thar, an' I'm goin' to sign it an' I want you to witness my signature.” “Very well, Mr. Hoag. I feel highly honored, and I'll do my best to prove worthy of the trust you place in me.” “I ain't a-worryin' about that. You are a plumb mystery to me. Sometimes I think you are more'n human. I know one thing--I know you are all right.” Hoag's massive hand shook as he dipped a pen, leaned down, and wrote his name. He stood erect and watched Paul sign his name opposite it. “You take care of it.” Hoag waved his hand. “Put it in the safe at the warehouse. I can't think of anything else right now. If--if I do, I'll mention it.” “I have an order for several grades of leather from Nashville,” Paul began, picking up a letter on the table, “and I want to consult you about--” “I'd rather you wouldn't.” A sickly look of despair had settled on the heavy features. “I'm willin' to trust your judgment entirely. What you do will be all right. You see--you see, somehow it is a comfort at my time o' life--an' harassed like I am--to feel that I ain't obliged to bother about so many odds an' ends.” “Very well, as you think best,” Paul answered. “I'll do all I can.” Hoag was seated on the watering-trough in the barn-yard a little later, his dull gaze on the sunlit mountain-side, when two soft, small hands were placed over his eyes from behind and he felt the clasp of a tender pair of arms around his neck. “Who's got you?” a young voice asked, in a bird-like ripple of merriment. “Jack!” Hoag answered, and he drew the boy into his lap, stroked his flowing tresses, and held him tightly against his breast.