"Uncle Silas has put the bear's-oil away," said Socky, in a tone of regret. He thought a moment, and then added, "Ladies don't never git spoke to." "You'd carry her on your back--wouldn't you, Uncle Robert?" inquired little Sue. Both children fixed him with their eyes. "Oh no--that wouldn't do," said Master. "Men don't never carry ladies on their backs," Socky wisely assured her. "Uncle Silas carries 'em," Sue insisted. "That's only Aunt Sinthy," said the boy, now a little in doubt of his position. Just then they heard the crow chattering away up the dusky trail. The children rose and ran to meet "the beautiful lady," and their voices rang in the still woods, calling, "Hoo-hoo! hoo-hoo!" Master slowly followed so as to keep in sight of them. When he saw Edith Dunmore come out of a thicket suddenly and embrace them, he turned back and stood where he could just hear the sound of their voices. She drew them close to her breast a moment, and a low strain of song sounded within her closed lips--that unconscious, irrepressible song of the mother at the cradle. "Dear little brownies! I love you--I love you," she said, presently. Then she whispered, "Where is he?" "Over there," the boy answered, pointing with his finger. "Come, I'll show you," said Sue. "Fairy queen--I dare not follow you," the girl answered. "I am afraid." "He wants you to come and live with us--he does," the boy declared. "He'll be awful good to you--he said he would." "Did he say that he liked me very much?" she asked. "I wouldn't tell," said the boy, with a winsome look as he thought of Master's reproof. "You wouldn't tell me?" "'Cause it's a secret." "You are like the little god I have read of!" Miss Dunmore exclaimed, drawing him closer. "Will you never stop wounding me?" "Please come," said Sue. "You can sleep in our bed an' hear Uncle Silas sing." "Where is your mother?" "Dead," Sue answered, cheerfully. "'Way up in heaven," said Socky, as he pointed aloft with his finger. "And your father?" "Gone away," said the boy. "I give him all my money--more'n a dollar." "And you live at Lost River camp?" Socky nodded. "Are they good to you?" "Yes, ma'am." "I wonder why he doesn't come?" said Miss Dunmore, impatiently. "'Fraid--maybe," Sue suggested. "Pooh! he ain't'fraid," Socky declared, as he broke away and ran down the trail. Miss Dun-more tried to call him back, but he did not hear her. "'The beautiful lady'! She wants to see you," he said to Master, his eyes glowing with excitement. The young man took the boy's hand. They proceeded up the trail in the direction whence Socky had come. "You ain't'fraid, are you, Uncle Robert?" the boy asked, eager to clear his friend of all unjust suspicion. "Oh no," Master answered, with a nervous laugh. "He ain't 'fraid," the boy proclaimed as they came into the presence of Edith Dunmore. "He can kill a bear."