I remember that Rodney Barnes called for my chest and me that fine morning in early June when I was to go back to the hills, my year's work in school being ended. I elected to walk, and the schoolmaster went with me five miles or more across the flats to the slope of the high country. I felt very wise with that year's learning in my head. Doubtless the best of it had come not in school. It had taken me close to the great stage and in a way lifted the curtain. I was most attentive, knowing that presently I should get my part. "I've been thinking, Bart, o' your work in the last year," said the schoolmaster as we walked. "Ye have studied six books and one--God help ye! An' I think ye have got more out o' the one than ye have out o' the six." In a moment of silence that followed I counted the books on my fingers: Latin, Arithmetic, Algebra, Grammar, Geography, History. What was this one book he referred to? "It's God's book o' life, boy, an' I should say ye'd done very well in it." After a little he asked: "Have ye ever heard of a man who had the Grimshaws?" I shook my head as I looked at him, not knowing just what he was driving at. "Sure, it's a serious illness an' it has two phases. First there's the Grimshaw o' greed--swinish, heartless greed--the other is the Grimshaw o' vanity--the strutter, with sword at belt, who would have men bow or flee before him." That is all he said of that seventh book and it was enough. "Soon the Senator will be coming," he remarked presently. "I have a long letter from him and he asks about you and your aunt and uncle. I think that he is fond o' you, boy." "I wish you would let me know when he comes," I said. "I am sure he will let you know, and, by the way, I have heard from another friend o' yours, my lad. Ye're a lucky one to have so many friends--sure ye are. Here, I'll show ye the letter. There's no reason why I shouldn't. Ye will know its writer, probably. I do not." So saying he handed me this letter: "CANTERBURY, VT., June 1. "DEAR SIR--I am interested in the boy Barton Baynes. Good words about him have been flying around like pigeons. When school is out I would like to hear from you, what is the record? What do you think of the soul in him? What kind of work is best for it? If you will let me maybe I can help the plans of God a little. That is my business and yours. Thanking you for reading this, I am, as ever, "God's humble servant, KATE FULLERTON." "Why, this is the writing of the Silent Woman," I said before I had read the letter half through. "Rovin' Kate?" "Roving Kate; I never knew her other name, but I saw her handwriting long ago." "But look--this is a neatly written, well-worded letter an' the sheet is as white and clean as the new snow. Uncanny woman! They say she carries the power o' God in her right hand. So do all the wronged. I tell ye, lad, there's only one thing in the world that's sacred."