"Yes--yes--yes. I reckon so," said the doctor, meditatively, as they descended the trail. From that day the child's strength increased. Sunny and buoyant, he shook off the thought of his deformity, and his beauty-loving soul ceased introspective brooding and found delight in searching out beauty, and in his creative faculty. CHAPTER XXVIII IN WHICH FRALE RETURNS TO THE MOUNTAINS Doctor Hoyle lingered until the last of the laurel bloom was gone, and the widow had become so absorbed in her grandchild as to make the parting much easier. Then he took the small Adam and departed for the North. Never did the kind old man dream that his frail and twisted little namesake would one day be the pride of his life and the comfort of his declining years. "Hoyle sure do look a heap bettah'n when Doctah David took him off that day. Hit did seem like I'd nevah see him again. Don't you guess 'at he's beginnin' to grow some? Seems like he do." The widow was seated on her little porch with the doctor, the evening before they left, and Cassandra, who, since the birth of the heir, had been living again in her own little cabin, had brought the baby down. He lay on his grandmother's lap quietly sleeping, while his mother gathered Hoyle's treasures, and packed his diminutive trunk. The boy followed her, chattering happily as she worked. She also had noticed the change in him, and suggested that perhaps, as he had gained such a start toward health, he need not return, but would do quite well at home. "He's a care to you, Doctor, although you're that kind and patient,--I don't see how ever we can thank you enough for all you've done!" Then Hoyle, to their utter astonishment, threw himself on the ground at the doctor's feet and burst into bitter weeping. "Why, son, are ye cryin' that-a-way so's you can get to go off an' leave maw here 'lone?" But he continued to weep, and at last explained to them that the "Lord done crooked him up that-a-way so't he could git to go an' learn to be a painter an' make a house full of pictures," and that the doctor had said he might. Doctor Hoyle lifted him to his knees with many assurances that he would keep his word, but for a long time the child sobbed hysterically, his face pressed against the old man's sleeve. "What's that you sayin', child, 'bouts the Lord twistin' yer neck? Bettah lay sech as that to the devil, more'n likely." At the mention of that sinister individual, the babe wakened and stretched out his plump, bare arms, with little pink fists tightly closed. He yawned a prodigious yawn for so small a countenance, and gazed vacantly in his grandmother's face. Then a look of intelligence crept into his eyes, and he smiled one of those sweet, evanescent smiles of infancy. "Look at him now, laughin' at me that-a-way. He be the peartest I eveh did see. Cass, she sure be mean not to tell his fathah 'at he have a son, she sure be."