"He's waiting for the eclipse," bawled noisy Ed Higgins, the grocer's clerk. "It's due next winter. H'are you, Anderson?" "How's that?" was Anderson's rebuke. "I mean Mr. Crow," corrected Ed, with a nervous glance at Rosalie, who had been his companion for the evening. "Oh, I'm jest so-so," remarked Anderson, mollified. "How was the party?" "It wasn't a party, Daddy Crow," laughed Rosalie, seating herself in front of him on the porch rail. "It was an experience meeting. Alf Reesling has reformed again. He told us all about his last attack of delirium tremens." "You don't say so! Well, sir, I never thought Alf could find the time to reform ag'in. He's too busy gittin' tight," mused Anderson. "But I guess reformin' c'n git to be as much a habit as anythin' else." "I think he was a little woozy to-night," ventured 'Rast Little. "A little what?" "Drunk," explained 'Rast, without wasting words. 'Rast had acquired the synonym at the business men's carnival in Boggs City the preceding fall. Sometimes he substituted the words "pie-eyed," "skeed," "lit up," etc., just to show his worldliness. After the young men had departed and the Crow girls had gone upstairs with their mother Rosalie slipped out on the porch and sat herself down upon the knee of her disconsolate guardian. "You are worried about something, Daddy Crow," she said gently. "Now, speak up, sir. What is it?" "It's time you were in bed," scolded Anderson, pulling his whiskers nervously. "Oh, I'm young, daddy. I don't need sleep. But you never have been up as late as this since I've known you." "I was up later'n this the time you had the whoopin'-cough, all right." "What's troubling you, daddy?" "Oh, nothin'--nothin' at all. Doggone, cain't a man set out on his own porch 'thout--" "Forgive me, daddy. Shall I go away and leave you?" "Gosh a'mighty, no!" he gasped. "That's what's worryin' me--oh, you didn't mean forever. You jest meant to-night? Geminy crickets, you did give me a skeer!" He sank back with a great sigh of relief. "Why, I never expect to leave you forever," she cried, caressing his scanty hair. "You couldn't drive me away. This is home, and you've been too good to me all these years. I may want to travel after a while, but I'll always come back to you, Daddy Crow." "I'm--I'm mighty glad to hear ye say that, Rosie. Ye see--ye see, me an' your ma kinder learned to love you, an'--an--" "Why, Daddy Crow, you silly old goose! You're almost crying!" "What's that? Now, don't talk like that to me, you little whipper-snapper, er you go to bed in a hurry. I never cried in my life," growled Anderson in a great bluster. "Well, then, let's talk about something else--me, for instance. Do you know, Daddy Crow, that I'm too strong to live an idle life. There is no reason why I shouldn't have an occupation. I want to work--accomplish something." Anderson was silent a long time collecting his nerves. "You wouldn't keer to be a female detective, would you?" he asked drily.