When Screech Owl, although the happiest woman in the squatter settlement, fell asleep with the cat in her arms, her pillow was wet with tears. * * * * * Through long days of anxious waiting for Flukey's recovery, Flea struggled with the Bible lessons Ann set for her each day. Yet she could not grasp the meaning of faith. She prayed nightly; but uttered her words mechanically, for the Savior in the blue sky seemed beyond her conception. In spite of Miss Shellington's tender pleading, in spite of the fact that Flukey believed stanchly all that Ann had told them, Flea suffered in her disbelief. Many times she sought consolation in Flukey's faith. "Ye see, Flea, can't ye," he said, one morning, "that when Sister Ann says a thing it's so? Can't ye see it, Flea?" "Nope, I can't. I don't know how God looks. I can't understand how Jesus ruz after he'd been dead three days." "He did that 'cause He were one-half God," explained Flukey, and then, brightening, added, "Sister Ann telled me that if He hadn't been a sufferin' and a sufferin', and hadn't loved everybody well enough, God wouldn't have let Him ruz. 'Twa'n't by anything He did after He were dead that brought Him standin' up again." "Then who did it?" queried Flea. "God did--jest as how He said 'way back there when there wasn't any world, 'World, come out!' and the world came. He said, 'Jesus, stand up!' and Jesus stood up. That's as easy as rollin' off a log, Flea." She had heard Ann explain it, too; but it seemed easier when Flukey interpreted it. "If I could see and speak to Him once," she mourned, "I could make Sister Ann glad by tellin' her that I knowed He'd answer me." "Ask Him to let ye see Himself," advised Flukey, "He'll do it, I bet! Will ye, Flea?" "Nope! I'd be 'fraid if He came and stood near me. I'm 'fraid even now when I think of Him; but 'cause I can't believe 'tain't no reason why you can't, Fluke." She turned her head toward the door and listened. "Brother Horace ain't like Sister Ann," she whispered. "Nobody ain't like her, Flea. She's the best ever!" "Yep, so she is. But I wish as how--" She paused, and a burning blush spread over her face. "I wish as how Brother Horace had Sister Ann's way of talking to me. I could--" "Brother Horace ain't nothin' to do with yer believin', Flea." "Yep, he has, and when he says as how he believes like Miss Shellington, then I'll believe, too. See?" Then Flea fell into a stubborn silence. One afternoon in December, Ann and Horace sat conversing in the library. "I don't see how Mrs. Vandecar can refuse to help you get that child into school, Ann." "I don't believe she will; but Everett thinks she ought." "Everett's getting some queer notions lately," Horace said reluctantly.