As she talked the Girl's fingers were idly threading the Harvester's hair. His head lightly touched her knee, and she shifted her position to afford him a comfortable resting place. With a thrill of delight that shook him, the man laid his head in her lap and looked into the fire, his face glowing as a happy boy's. “You shall have the loveliest doll that money can buy, Ruth,” he promised. “What else do you want?” “A roasted goose, plum pudding, and all those horrid indigestible things that Christmas stories always tell about; and popcorn balls, and candy, and everything I've always wanted and never had, and a long beautiful day with you. That's all!” “Ruth, I'm so happy I almost wish I could go to Heaven right now before anything occurs to spoil this,” said the Harvester. The wheels of a car rattled across the bridge. He whirled to his knees, and put his arms around the Girl. “Ruth,” he said huskily. “I'll wager a thousand dollars I know what is coming. Hug me tight, quick! and give me the best kiss you can----any old kind of a one, so you touch my lips with yours before I've got to open that door and let in trouble.” The Girl threw her arms around his neck and with the imprint of her lips warm on his the Harvester crossed the room, and his heart dropped from the heights with a thud. He stepped out, closing the door behind him, and crossing the veranda, passed down the walk. He recognized the car as belonging to a garage in Onabasha, and in it sat two men, one of whom spoke. “Are you David Langston?” “Yes,” said the Harvester. “Did you send a couple of photographs to a New York detective agency a few days ago with inquiries concerning some parties you wanted located?” “I did,” said the Harvester. “But I was not expecting any such immediate returns.” “Your questions touched on a case that long has been in the hands of the agency, and they telegraphed the parties. The following day the people had a letter, giving them the information they required, from another source.” “That is where Uncle Henry showed his fine Spencerian hand,” commented the Harvester. “It always will be a great satisfaction that I got my fist in first.” “Is Miss Jameson here?” “No,” said the Harvester. “My wife is at home. Her surname was Ruth Jameson, but we have been married since June. Did you wish to speak with Mrs. Langston?” “I came for that purpose. My name is Kennedy. I am the law partner and the closest friend of the young lady's grandfather. News of her location has prostrated her grandmother so that he could not leave her, and I was sent to bring the young woman.”