She threw her arms around Belshazzar's neck and laid her white face against his satiny shoulder. The Harvester could endure no more. He took a step forward, his face convulsed with pain. “Please don't!” he begged. “I took your ginseng. I'll bring it back to-morrow. There wasn't more than twenty-five or thirty dollars' worth. It doesn't amount to one tear.” The girl arose so quickly, the Harvester could not see how she did it. With a startled fright on her face, and the dark eyes swimming, she turned to him in one long look. Words rolled from the lips of the man in a jumble. Behind the tears there was a dull, expressionless blue in the girl's eyes and her face was so white that it appeared blank. He began talking before she could speak, in an effort to secure forgiveness without condemnation. “You see, I grow it for a living on land I own, and I've always gathered all there was in the country and no one cared. There never was enough in one place to pay, and no other man wanted to spend the time, and so I've always felt free to take it. Every one knew I did, and no one ever objected before. Once I paid Henry Jameson for the privilege of cleaning it from these woods. That was six or seven years ago, and it didn't occur to me that I wasn't at liberty to dig what has grown since. I'll bring it back at once, and pay you for the shrinkage from gathering it too early. There won't be much over six pounds when it's dry. Please, please don't feel badly. Won't you trust me to return it, and make good the damage I've done?” The face of the Harvester was eager and his tones appealing, as he leaned forward trying to make her understand. “Certainly!” said the Girl as she bent to pat the dog, while she dried her eyes under cover of the movement. “Certainly! It can make no difference!” But as the Harvester drew a deep breath of relief, she suddenly straightened to full height and looked straight at him. “Oh what is the use to tell a pitiful lie!” she cried. “It does make a difference! It makes all the difference in the world! I need that money! I need it unspeakably. I owe a debt I must pay. What----what did I understand you to say ginseng is worth?” “If you will take a few steps,” said the Harvester, “and make yourself comfortable on this log in the shade, I will tell you all I know about it.” The girl walked swiftly to the log indicated, seated herself, and waited. The Harvester followed to a respectful distance. “I can't tell to an ounce what wet roots would weigh,” he said as easily as he could command his voice to speak with the heart in him beating wildly, “and of course they lose greatly in drying; but I've handled enough that I know the weight I carried home will come to six pounds at the very least. Then you must figure on some loss, because I dug this before it really was ready. It does not reach full growth until September, and if it is taken too soon there is a decrease in weight. I will make that up to you when I return it.”