"When will you begin to plough for the little one?" Uncle Daniel asked pleasantly. "To-morrow morning." "Well, you needn't plough at all," said Uncle Daniel. "I am to be guardian, and I will plough." When they reached the lane which led to the Wenner house, they saw Albert and the twins playing in the yard. Swartz pulled in the horse with a jerk, then he jumped down with the little bags in his hand. "Tell 'Lizie that Albert will be home for supper," he said. This time he did not stride up to the door and demand Albert. Instead he stole down the lane to the back of the house. He did not mean to take any actively offensive measures till the end of the month. Sarah was not able to tell afterwards how Albert got away. She had kept the children close beside her all the morning, and it was not until afternoon that she yielded to their pleadings to be allowed to go out of doors to play. Then she sat down at the window with some sewing in her hands, in order that she might watch them. She had not moved until the sudden hissing of steam warned her that the water in the kettle was boiling over. It had not taken her a minute to move it to the back part of the stove, but in that instant Albert was gone. She could see them crossing the fields, Albert in his uncle's arms. The twins ran frantically behind them, and Sarah hurried to the door. "He coaxed him away with candy," wailed Louisa Ellen when they ran back. "But Albert said he was coming home for supper." That night there were no games. The doors were barred early, the supper eaten silently. Then Sarah got pen and paper and sat down beside the lamp. She would make a last appeal to William. Perhaps, though all the other letters had failed, this might reach him, and reaching him, might touch his heart. It would have taken Sarah all night and all the next day to say all that was in her mind. But the task of composition was difficult and the letter was short. It read:-- Dear Brother,--My Uncle Daniel is after us. He fetched Albert again. Jacob Kalb wants to live here. The twins will not stay by Aunt Mena. I am doing the best I can. I wish you would come home. Uncle Daniel will not have it that the twins and Albert live in their right home. We are well and hope you are the same. Resp. yours, SARAH WENNER. P.S. I chased Jacob Kalb off with the gun, but I fear me that perhaps he will come again. It was not a neat production, Sarah realized that. She tried to wipe off a teardrop which fell upon it, and made a tremendous blot. And William had always been so particular about the way she wrote. It did not occur to her that, to the heart of an affectionate brother, the pathetic blot would be more eloquent than pages of pleading. She addressed the letter to Seattle, then, waking the twins, who had gone to sleep on the settle, she sent them to bed.