“Yes—to finish my education!” He stalked away, never looking back. She sat alone now, still gazing out across the hills, at a new and wider world than any she had ever known. The sounds on the street below became more audible, wafted by a change in the evening air. She knew that there was forming yonder a procession of men who presently would pass out around the shoulder of the hill at the end of the street. And then at last she heard fully the throb of the drum, the keening of the fife. The men of the Cumberlands were marching out into the world. He was at their head—going out for his ordeal, going out to grow, to get ready—to deserve, as he had said. What a man he would be—what a man he was! Marcia Haddon suddenly reached out her arms, her gesture following the marching men, as though something of her own had gone out with them. She sat, until she knew not whether she heard the throb of a passing drum or felt the pulse of a new heart, beating high and strong. Her Work lay at hand—out there, on the hills where the gaunt buildings grew. And on ahead—was it Life, as sweet as it was earnest and compelling, that rested yonder—on the heights ahead? TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: —Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way Out, by Emerson Hough