It was no very arduous undertaking; in the first store they entered they were promptly supplied with the darning needle and skein of thread they were in search of. Change was made in a novel way; literally made by cutting a silver dollar into halves, quarters and eighths. The merchant, an unmarried man, was extremely polite and courteous, and while waiting upon the ladies cast many a furtive, admiring glance at the slight, graceful figure and fair face of the major's young sister. Kenneth had a call that afternoon to a case of delirium tremens, which took him past the dwelling of the Barbours. He knew they were not in, having seen them but a few moments before strolling in the opposite direction, and was therefore surprised, within a few yards of the cabin, to see a man issue from the back door, with a bundle under his arm, and disappear among the trees. The doctor paused for an instant, with the thought of giving pursuit, but the call for his services was urgent, and he hurried on again. Turning a corner the next moment he came suddenly upon a man and woman conversing together in low tones, who at sight of him shrank guiltily back into the shadow of the trees; but not before his quick eye had caught a sight of their faces in the gathering gloom, for twilight had already set in, and his ear a few words of their talk. "A pretty good haul considering." "Yes; and now we'd best be off." Suspicious words enough, but Kenneth had no time to think of them then, nor for hours afterward--so critical was the condition of his patient. It was only when on returning about sunrise the next morning, they were recalled to his mind by the sound of Mrs. Barbour's voice lifted up in scolding and lamentation. "Yes, they're gone, every one of them;--that overcoat, just as good as new, the shirt I finished only the day before I started from home, and that elegant bandanna handkerchief. I told you somebody would get in and rob us in our sleep, if you didn't fasten the door well. Perhaps you'll believe another time that my opinion's worth something." "There, there, Nancy, don't go on as if everything we had was lost. The town isn't so large that a thief can keep himself hid very long in it," Mr. Barbour was replying as the doctor stepped up to the open door. "Good morning," he said, "I accidentally overheard Mrs. Barbour's lament, in passing, and I think I can throw some light on this matter," then went on to tell of what he had seen and heard the previous evening. "So you see, Nancy, we weren't robbed in our sleep after all," was Mr. Barbour's comment, addressed to his wife. "No thanks to you, anyhow," she retorted; "and it's your fault all the same; because I wouldn't have gone out and left the house alone if I'd had my way." Mr. Barbour subsided. Why could he not learn how utterly useless it was to attempt to justify himself under the accusations of his wife?