And such a mighty shout that went up on that frozen stream was never heard before. Old Brad was rubbing Shawn's face and chest. Shawn heard the loud huzzas and heard Danner's voice praising his wonderful race, but best of all, Lallite came up, and with her own hand, presented him the cup. On the shoulders the boys of Skarrow he was carried in triumph. It was a proud day for Shawn. He had brought the cup back to Kentucky. [Illustration: They were nearing the last hundred yard flag.] CHAPTER XIII The winter had passed away. Shawn had been working hard in school, and under the encouragement of Mrs. Alden, was making fair progress, but Sunday afternoons found him in his row-boat, wandering about the stream and generally pulling his boat out on the beach at Old Meadows, for Lallite was there to greet him, and already they had told each other of their love. What a dream of happiness, to wander together along the pebbled beach, or through the upland woods, to tell each other the little incidents of their daily life, and to pledge eternal fidelity. Oh dearest days, when the rose of love first blooms in youthful hearts, when lips breathe the tenderest promises, fraught with such transports of delight; when each lingering word grows sweeter under the spell of love-lit eyes. Oh, blissful elysium of love's young dream! They stood together in the deepening twilight, when the sun's last bars of gold were reflected in the stream. "Oh, Shawn, it was a glad day when you first came with Doctor Hissong to hunt." "Yes," said Shawn, as he took her hand, "it was a hunt where I came upon unexpected game, but how could you ever feel any love for a poor river-rat?" "I don't know," said Lallite, "but maybe, it is that kind that some girls want to fall in love with, especially if they have beautiful teeth, and black eyes and hair, and can be unselfish enough to kill a bag of game for two old men, and let them think that they did the shooting." "Lally, when they have love plays on the show-boats, they have all sorts of quarrels and they lie and cuss and tear up things generally." "Well, Shawn, there's all sorts of love, I suppose, but mine is not the show-boat kind." "Thank the Lord," said Shawn. He drew out a little paste-board box. Nestling in a wad of cotton, was the pearl given to him by Burney. "Lally, this is the only thing I have ever owned in the way of jewelry, and it's not much, but will you take it and wear it for my sake?" "It will always be a perfect pearl to me," said the blushing girl. CHAPTER XIV