My aunt rose and went into the but'ry while I sat staring at the ragged old woman. Her hair was white now and partly covered by a worn and faded bonnet. Forbidding as she was I did not miss the sweetness in her smile and her blue eyes when she looked at me. Aunt Deel came with a plate of doughnuts and bread and butter and head cheese and said in a voice full of pity: "Poor ol' Kate--ayes! Here's somethin' for ye--ayes!" She turned to, my uncle and said: "Peabody Baynes, what'll we do--I'd like to know--ayes! She can't rove all night." "I'll git some blankets an' make a bed for her, good 'nough for anybody, out in the hired man's room over the shed," said my uncle. He brought the lantern--a little tower of perforated tin--and put a lighted candle inside of it. Then he beckoned to the stranger, who followed him out of the front door with the plate of food in her hands. "Well I declare! It's a long time since she went up this road--ayes!" said Aunt Deel, yawning as she resumed her chair. "Who is ol' Kate?" I asked. "Oh, just a poor ol' crazy woman--wanders all 'round--ayes!" "What made her crazy?" "Oh, I guess somebody misused and deceived her when she was young--ayes! It's an awful wicked thing to do. Come, Bart--go right up to bed now. It's high time--ayes!" "I want to wait 'til Uncle Peabody comes back," said I. "Why?" "I--I'm afraid she'll do somethin' to him." "Nonsense! Ol' Kate is just as harmless as a kitten. You take your candle and go right up to bed--this minute--ayes!" I went up-stairs with the candle and undressed very slowly and thoughtfully while I listened for the footsteps of my uncle. I did not get into bed until I heard him come in and blow out his lantern and start up the stairway. As he undressed he told me how for many years the strange woman had been roving in the roads "up hill and down dale, thousands an' thousands o' miles," and never reaching the end of her journey. In a moment we heard a low wail above the sound of the breeze that shook the leaves of the old "popple" tree above our roof. "What's that?" I whispered. "I guess it's ol' Kate ravin'," said Uncle Peabody. It touched my heart and I lay listening for a time but heard only the loud whisper of the popple leaves. CHAPTER VI THE GREAT STRANGER Some strangers came along the road those days--hunters, peddlers and the like--and their coming filled me with a joy which mostly went away with them, I regret to say. None of these, however, appealed to my imagination as did old Kate. But there was one stranger greater than she--greater, indeed, than any other who came into Rattleroad. He came rarely and would not be long detained. How curiously we looked at him, knowing his fame and power! This great stranger was Money.