=x
 
 " The hoy pressed her to him"
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE 
 SHELTERING PINES 
 
 Jl 3\[eu) Romance of the 
 Storm Country 
 
 By 
 
 GRACE MILLER WHITE 
 
 Author of 
 
 "Tess of the Storm Country," "The Secret of the 
 
 Storm Country," "Judy of Rogues' Harbor," 
 
 "Rose O' Paradise," etc. 
 
 New York 
 
 THE H. K. FLY COMPANY 
 Publishers
 
 COPTBJGHT, 1919, BY 
 
 THE a K- F1A COMPANY
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I "Tony" For Short 1 
 
 II The Master of the "Dirty Mary" 17 
 
 III Uriah Devon Names the Price 30 
 
 IV The Picture of a Baby 38 
 
 V The Pendlehavens 50 
 
 VI Dr. John Has a Visitor 65 
 
 VII In the Night 75 
 
 VIII "Tonv" Swears an Oath 84 
 
 IX "AH Alone!" 92 
 
 X "Tony" Finds a New Home 100 
 
 XI A Woman's Hatred 108 
 
 XII The Tryst 116 
 
 XIII The Prodigal Comes Home 1 22 
 
 XIV The Fight 129 
 
 XV The Face in the Window 138 
 
 XVI "Don't Make Me Tell" 1 50 
 
 XVII The Stoning.. 162 
 
 2133698
 
 XVIII The Gathering of the Clan 1 77 
 
 XIX "I Love You More'n the Whole World!" 186 
 
 XX A Little Drop of Something 1 98 
 
 XXI Uriah "Goes Away" 213 
 
 XXII Good for Evil 227 
 
 XXIII A Will Is Changed. 243 
 
 XXIV The Last Card 255 
 
 XXV A Wedding To Be 263 
 
 XXVI In the Balance 268 
 
 XXVII ''Poor Little Mother" 277 
 
 XXVIII Cross-Questions 298 
 
 XXIX Payment In Full. 303
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE 
 SHELTERING PINES 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 "TONY" FOR SHORT 
 
 ANOTHER winter had lifted its icy fingers from 
 the Storm Country and Lake Cayuga, and an 
 early spring had brought from the south the red- 
 breasted robins and thousands of other birds tc* 
 build their homes in the Forest City, as Ithaca, 
 New York, is called. No wonder the name had 
 been given to the quiet town of people, for to the 
 south, the east, the west, and even to the north 
 where the lake cut sharply around a corner, broad 
 forests stretched their lengths and heights of leaf 
 and bough on miniature mountains. 
 
 One evening on the western side of the Le- 
 high Valley tracks, a girl stood before a small
 
 2 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 * c> 
 
 building over which, like ropes of green, draped 
 the branches of a weeping willow tree. This 
 building was difft nt from any of the other habi- 
 tations near it in that it was well painted, arid 
 the door stood open all day. 
 
 'Twas a strange little girl that gazed up with 
 searching eagerness at the two lighted signs that 
 had arrested her attention. In her arms she held 
 a diminutive guinea pig, and the \ray she hugged 
 it close demonstrated her love for it. 
 
 'THE SALVATION ARMY," she spelled out 
 and thoughtfully considered it. Then her eyes 
 turned to the spread of letters that covered almost 
 the whole upper front of the building. 
 
 "Everybody is welcome here," she read slowly. 
 That meant that any one could enter if he wanted 
 to, she decided, and as Tonnibel Devon did want 
 to go in, she softly tiptoed up the steps and 
 peeped into the room. As there was nobody in 
 sight, she sidled in and looked about. Long board 
 seats reached from side to side, and up at the 
 other end set on a rostrum was a little table, and 
 on each side of it were two piles of books. 
 
 The girl cast an interested glance around, drink-
 
 "Tony" for Short 3 
 
 ing in with eager gray eyes the strange beauty 
 of the place. 
 
 "Welcome" was curved in letters of red above 
 the table and books, and the silent young stranger 
 sighed. She couldn't understand how a girl could 
 be really welcome anywhere. Of course her 
 mother liked her and missed her when she was 
 away, but Tony knew of no other place where 
 she was really wanted but the canal boat, called 
 "Mary" and "Dirty Mary" for short, which had 
 been her home ever since she could remember. 
 Pressing the piglet's snout against her neck, after 
 the manner of mothers, she sat down on a bench 
 and contemplated the walls. 
 
 "Glory be to God in the highest," swung in 
 letters of gold across the right wall, and to the 
 left, "Stand still and see the Salvation of the 
 Lord," kept her attention a little longer. She 
 didn't know what they meant, but the varied 
 colors shining brilliant in the bright light calmed 
 her turbulent spirit and made her happy. She 
 hugged the pig closer, bent her head and kissed 
 the top of its ear. 
 
 "I guess we're in a church, Gussie," she said
 
 4 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 aloud, "and you mustn't grunt or squeal like you 
 do on the 'Dirty Mary.' It's awful nice and 
 quiet, ain't it, honey?" 
 
 "Were you speaking to me 1 ?" said a voice from 
 near the door. 
 
 Tonnibel Devon struggled to her feet, turned 
 around and saw a young man looking at her. A 
 flame of red rushed over the tanned skin, but 
 because he was smiling and kindly, she smiled 
 back, a dimple coming to life at each corner of 
 her mouth. 
 
 "Nope," she flung out in confusion. "I was 
 talkin' to Gussie-Piglet here. Mebbe her and me 
 hadn't ought to be here. You can kick us out 
 if you want to." 
 
 Philip MacCauley, the Captain of the Salva- 
 tion Army in Ithaca, bowed, and then he laughed. 
 
 "Every one is welcome here," he quoted, com- 
 ing forward. "Whcre'd you come from? I've 
 never seen you before." 
 
 "I'm staying' up Hoghole way," replied Tony. 
 "I ain't been around Ithaca long. This is an 
 awful nice room, ain't it, huh?" 
 
 "Yes, very. We like it," replied the young
 
 "Tony" for Short 5 
 
 man. "Sit down; don't be in a hurry. I want to 
 talk to you." 
 
 Tonnibel did sit down but not very comfort- 
 ably. She was embarrassed in the presence of 
 this handsome young stranger, abashed in the 
 glamour of his uniform, and all the beauty of 
 him. 
 
 With boyish admiration he was contemplating 
 the sparkle of her gray eyes, shaded by long lashes 
 as ebony black as her hair which hung in ring- 
 lets to her waist. He decided that she was very 
 pretty, and that he liked to have her in the Sal- 
 vation Army quarters. 
 
 "Can't you stay for meeting this evening 1 ?" he 
 asked presently. "We have singing here." 
 
 Tony's eyes deepened almost to lustrous black. 
 
 "Oh, I'd love that!" Then she shook her head. 
 "Nope," she went on, "I got to go home to 
 mummy. She's all alone ! Mebbe when my daddy 
 gets back, I'll come some time and sit clean 
 through the night." 
 
 For an instant the smile stayed about the boy's 
 lips, then gravity settled once more over his 
 earnest young face. This child was of the wilder-
 
 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 ness born; he could tell that by her conversation. 
 And she was poor too; that showed in her clothes 
 and bare feet. It wasn't usual for a girl of her age 
 to run about without shoes. 
 
 "What's done in this place?" she questioned 
 after a while. 
 
 "Oh, we sing and read and pray," replied the 
 boy. "We do everything we can to help people. 
 There's such a lot of misery in the world." 
 
 "That's as true's you're born," came back 
 promptly from the parted red lips. "I know that 
 because my mother is sick every day, and she 
 cries too. That's misery, ain't it?" 
 
 Captain MacCauley was used to tales of woe, 
 but he knew a panacea for them. "Yes, it is so," 
 he said. "Perhaps you could get her to come here 
 some evening! Do you think you could?" 
 
 The curly head made a slight shake of negation. 
 
 "Daddy wouldn't let her," was the reply, and 
 she lifted unfathomable saddened gray eyes to his. 
 "You see when a man owns a woman, and she 
 don't do the things he tells he to, he beats her, 
 huh?" 
 
 There was mute pleading in her expression as
 
 "Tony" for Short T 
 
 she drew back on the bench a little farther away 
 from him. Ah! He might have known that she 
 had been swept along by the relentless tide of 
 brutality. He sighed a little. He had seen 
 enough of ignorant men with their supreme ego- 
 tism, to know she told the truth. He glanced 
 about the hall and felt thankful that from its 
 warmth and good cheer he had the chance to bring 
 comfort to just such as this girl and her kind. 
 
 "Your father is is cruel to your mother, 
 then?" he faltered. 
 
 She remained in deep thought for the space of 
 a few seconds. If she answered his question then 
 she would have to tell more, how Uriah Devon 
 got distressingly drunk, how violent he often was 
 with her and her mother, and how he went away 
 days at a time and left them to shift for them- 
 selves. 
 
 "A swat or two, mebbe more, ain't a killin* 
 thing to women folks," was the response she 
 made confusedly at length. 
 
 So unusual had been her answer that Philip 
 MacCauley gazed at her in amazement. Of 
 course he had expected an outburst of confidence,
 
 8 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 and he was ready with the platitudes necessary in 
 such cases. 
 
 "Have you ever heard of of God?" he asked 
 finally, his own confusion apparent in the stumble 
 of his tongue. 
 
 Tonnibel smiled, smoothed Gussie's back, and 
 then laughed. 
 
 "I hear God damn more'n a hundred times a 
 day," she replied. "Is that what you mean?" 
 
 "Not quite," answered Philip, startled. "No! 
 Not that." 
 
 "Then what?" demanded Tony. "What kind 
 of a God do you mean ?" 
 
 "One that is good," explained Philip. "There 
 isn't any God but the one who helps " 
 
 "My mummy?" breathed the girl, misty tears 
 shadowing her eyes. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Where is he, then?" The words shot forth 
 with such insistence that something within Philip 
 MacCauley rose to its demand. 
 
 "Some one's got to be good to my mother," the 
 girl ran on before he could speak. "She's sick
 
 "Tony" for Short 9 
 
 and lonely. Oh, I've got to do something for her. 
 Where's your helpin' God, mister?" 
 
 "Right here in this place," said Philip, a strange 
 emotion sweeping over him. "In fact there isn't 
 any place where God is not." 
 
 "He wouldn't come in a dirty canal boat, 
 would He 1 ?" demanded Tony, breathlessly. 
 
 Astonished at such crudeness, Captain Mac- 
 Cauley shifted himself about so he faced her 
 squarely. Was it pretended ignorance or inno- 
 cence in the searching gray eyes'? Then he decided 
 that truth was stamped on every line of the up- 
 turned face. 
 
 "Of course, everywhere," he exclaimed bro- 
 kenly. "Why, dear child " 
 
 Tony Devon interrupted him swiftly. 
 
 "Tell me how to manage it," she pleaded. 
 "How can I wheedle your God to the 'Dirty 
 Mary'?" 
 
 "To the what?" was the question the boy asked 
 in shocked swiftness. 
 
 "The 'Dirty Mary/" repeated Tony. "My 
 mummy and me live on a canal boat. Once she 
 were just called 'Mary.' But she's so damned
 
 10 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pineg 
 
 nasty, Ede calls her the 'Dirty Mary.' She's a 
 nice boat just the same as long as my mummy's 
 there. But I can't see how a clean God could come 
 on 'er. ... I guess you're foolin' me, mister." 
 
 Philip swallowed hard. Then slowly and 
 gently he talked to her, trying to make her under- 
 stand as best he could what he meant by God, 
 Spirit. 
 
 "And you can help your mother, little little 
 what's your name*?" 
 
 "Tony, just Tonnibel," she mumbled. Then 
 her voice rose and she uttered sharply, "Now tell 
 me how to help my mother?" 
 
 Philip went to the altar and sorted out a small 
 card. 
 
 "This," he said, coming back to her, "has happy 
 loving thoughts written on it. If you think these 
 things all the time oh, how they will help both 
 you and your mother." 
 
 Wonderingly she took it in her fingers. The 
 first thing that met her eyes was a beautiful up- 
 lifted face of a man and in his arms was a little 
 lamb. Underneath the picture was printed, "Feed 
 my sheep," and directly under that were the words,
 
 "Tony" for Short 11 
 
 "Stand still and see the Salvation of the Lord." 
 Once more her eyes sought the face above, a face 
 wherein lay all the pity and love in the world. 
 
 "Goddy, it's lovely, ain't it'?" she asked. Then 
 she sighed. "Feedin' sheep," she took up pres- 
 ently, "that means givin' something to eat to 
 people and to everything that's hungry, don't it 1 ?" 
 
 "Yes." The boy nodded, and he continued, 
 "That's what the Salvation Army did in the war. 
 We just fed God's lambs, hungry boys over there 
 fighting. . . . Oh, it was awful, all of it." 
 
 Tony's eyes suddenly lifted from the picture. 
 
 "War?" she queried, startled. "I heard of all 
 that. You wasn't there where folks were killin' 
 each other, was you?" 
 
 Disbelief deepened the gray of her eyes as she 
 ejaculated her negative question. 
 
 "Yes," Philip told her, deeply touched in 
 memory, "and over there I learned just what try- 
 ing to make people happy meant. That's why I 
 came home to work here here in this part of 
 Ithaca." 
 
 A long, slow breath came from between Tony's 
 parted teeth.
 
 12 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pincs\ 
 
 "And you think honest that God' 11 take a wh 
 at us canal boat folks?" she whispered. "\V 
 lambs, kinda, ain't we, Uriah, and mummy : 
 me?' 
 
 To quell his sudden desire to put his ail: 
 about the little gray-eyed creature, Philip be;_r. 
 to talk. He told her of the underlying princijr 
 of Love, of Life and Truth. 
 
 "Love," he continued huskily, now so close !> 
 her that he felt her warm, swift-coming breati 
 against his face, "Love is everywhere, and i 
 you'll always remember that 
 
 The eager young listener broke his statement | 
 two by a long sobbing sigh. 
 
 "Love's on the 'Dirty Mary,' too," she state; 
 in one breath. "I didn't know you meant tha: 
 Why, my mummy loves my daddy so she'd stan 
 up and let him take 'er skin off by inches, yet sh 
 don't stop lovin' him. She keeps on savin' to in 
 he loves her too. Mebbe he does, I dunno!" 
 
 Philip started all over again, explaining tha 
 Love, Divine Love, never hurts, never is brutal bul 
 is ever kind and gracious. And this time Ton) 
 Devon caught a glimpse of the lesson he was try-
 
 "Tony" for Short 13 
 
 ing to teach, and when she went out of the Sal- 
 vation Army hall, she held within the depths of 
 her a wonderfully new and utterly strange emo- 
 tion. It did seem as if she couldn't make her feet 
 go fast enough as she sped along the shadowy 
 Boulevard. Always before when she stole away 
 at twilight, she had listened to the singing pines, 
 and gave them her secrets in full or heard the 
 distant murmur of the brooks away there in the 
 
 4 
 
 dark hills, but to-night she had a new mission. 
 High back in the woodland she heard an owl 
 screech to his mate, and from still farther back 
 came a mournful reply. Tony loved owls, and 
 their nightly talks with each other were as sweet 
 to her as the twitters of the morning birds. 
 
 She was panting for breath when she ran up the 
 gangplank of the canal boat, anchored near the 
 Koghole. 
 
 A woman was busy brewing tea when the girl 
 slipped down the steps of the cabin. 
 
 "You been gone a long time, Tony," mumbled 
 Mrs. Devon. "Did you see anything of your 
 daddy?' 
 
 "Nope, and I squinted in every beer hole in
 
 14 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Ithaca," Tony replied, "but but but I found 
 out something for you." 
 
 Then the woman turned and looked at her 
 and stood waiting for an explanation. 
 
 "If you put up a bet on your nose, you couldn't 
 guess what it was," went on the girl, with eager 
 wistfulness, "you'd lose your beak, mummy, as 
 sure as shootin'. . . . Now guess." 
 
 "I can't," answered Mrs. Devon, wearily. "Is 
 it anything about your daddy ?" 
 
 "Mebbe it is!" replied Tonnibel. "Listen! 
 There's somebody on this boat besides me, and 
 you, and and Gussie." 
 
 "Who?" came sharply from the woman. 
 
 She shivered, fearing that the law lay in wait 
 for her absent husband. 
 
 "Who, brat?" she repeated imploringly. 
 
 Tonnibel bent over and looked straight into 
 the sad, wan face. 
 
 "God, just a plain lovin' God!" she replied, 
 her countenance expressing unusual exaltation. 
 "Sit a minute while the tea's makin' good, and 
 I'll tell you." 
 
 Side by side they sat together on the bunk while
 
 "Tony" for Short 15 
 
 with lowered reverent voice the girl told the story 
 of the Shepherd who had said long ago with in- 
 finite pity, "Feed my sheep." 
 
 "And mummy," the girl continued, leaning her 
 head against her mother's arm, "Darling mummy, 
 that beautiful man said, 'Love'd make crooked 
 things straight,' and and it's so." 
 
 A look of unbelief came over Edith Devon's 
 face. 
 
 "Fiddle," she said in a disgusted voice. "Tony, 
 you ain't a brain in your bean." 
 
 Tonnibel smiled happily in her new and sweet 
 belief. Philip MacCauley had planted a seed in 
 the fertile soil of a girl's soul, and instantly it had 
 begun its sturdy growth. 
 
 "I don't need any brains as long as I got this, 
 Edie," she replied, lifting the card she held. 
 "Come on, let's say these things over. Here's one 
 that'll keep well, it'll help keep daddy from 
 beatin' you." 
 
 Mrs. Devon grasped the girl's arm in sudden 
 frenzy. 
 
 "You told some one Uriah beats me?" she de- 
 manded sharply.
 
 16 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Mebbe I did, and mebbe I didn't," answers. 
 Tony, slyly, "but these here words about standhv 
 still and watching Salvation slam good all about 
 will keep nappy's fists up his sleeves. Say it,: 
 Edie," she ended. 
 
 "I won't," said Edith, getting up swiftly. "If 
 there's anything in it, Tony, you can show me by 
 gettin' your daddy back home. Mebbe he's it: 
 
 jail." 
 
 "Even if he was," retorted the girl, with a wi.r 
 shake of her head, "lovin' hard could make the! 
 coop-doors fly wide open, and daddy 'd flop out : 
 like a dogfish flops into the lake." 
 
 "Then drink your tea, baby," answered the 
 woman, thickly, "and get busy at it! It's some- 
 thing like prayin', ain't it?" 
 
 "Yep, I guess so," answered Tonnibel, as she 
 drew up to the table. "I'm goin' to find out more 
 some of these days, and then I'll tell you all about 
 it. Huh, mummy?" 
 
 "Yes," muttered Edith, "but I'm getting a 
 guess out of the days I spent on this boat that 
 God, or whoever you're talkin' about, ain't bother- 
 in' His head over the 'Dirty Mary,' nor us uther."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE MASTER OF THE "DIRTY MARY" 
 
 A WEEK before this story opens, Uriah Devon 
 had steamed the length of the lake, anchoring his 
 boat as near Ithaca as he dared. Even to his wife, 
 Edith, he had not confided why he had brought 
 her to a town where yawning prison doors gaped 
 for her every passing hour. 
 
 "I won't go, Riah," Mrs. Devon had cried 
 when her husband had made the statement that he 
 intended to visit Ithaca. "You couldn't get me 
 near that place with a rope around my neck." 
 
 But the very fact that she now sat on a small 
 bench against the boat rail, gazing moodily at the 
 water, proved that Uriah Devon had contrived to 
 have his way. 
 
 Occasionally Mrs. Devon lifted her head to 
 listen and turned her eyes to the west where at 
 the side of the Hoghole, through which rushed a 
 
 17
 
 18 The Shadow of I he Sheltering Pines 
 
 spring freshet, a narrow path zigzagged its h 
 up the hill to the Bo'i'evard. Into her tortured 
 soul had come a beliei since the night before, that 
 Tony's "Gloriest God,'' would s"nd her man 
 home. It was this hope that had perched her this 
 clear spring aiternoon on the deck of the "Dirty 
 Mary." She desired to glimpse him the moment 
 he came in sight. It would be down the path he 
 would come, for Uriah Devon was too wise to 
 cross the marshes after a heavy week's rain. 
 Shivering, she drew a ragged shawl more closely 
 about, her thin shoulders, and for a few minutes 
 her attention was centered on a canoe which glided 
 by the canal boat and became but a bobbing speck 
 on its way northward. 
 
 Suddenly the sound of heavy footsteps in the 
 forest path brought her sharply around. At last he 
 was coming, this man she loved, perhaps drunk, 
 :>erhaps to beat her; but nevertheless he was com- 
 ing, and that was all she cared about. When he 
 appeared at the top of the ragged rocks and 
 gingerly made his crooked way down to the shore, 
 the woman's yellow skin took on a distinct pallor.
 
 The Master of the "Dirty Mary" 19 
 
 He was drunk, and in times like this she shrank 
 from contact with his heavy fists. 
 
 She partly rose, then sank back again. For 
 an instant her lips trembled, but she drew them 
 tightly over her teeth and smoothed back her hair. 
 How many days before she had waited his home 
 coming as she had this time, long hours of dread 
 md despair ! Now he had been gone almost all the 
 time since they had come to Ithaca, and only last 
 night she had admitted to the kid fearfully that 
 he might be in jail somewhere. That she was glad 
 to see him showed in her heaving bosom, and the 
 light that had suddenly sprung into the drab, 
 dull eyes. 
 
 Uriah Devon slowly walked up the gangplank 
 in silence. 
 
 "Where you been?" the woman forced herself 
 to say. But instead of replying, he demanded: 
 
 "Where's Tonnibel?" 
 
 "I dunno," was the answer. "A minute ago she 
 was over there not ten of your legs' jumps from 
 here. . . . Where you been all this week?" 
 
 In silence the man took out his pipe, pressed 
 it full of tobacco, then lighted it deliberately and
 
 20 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 with a deft puckering of his lips sent small gray 
 rings of smoke drifting over the lake. 
 
 He watched them as they broke away and dis- 
 appeared, and the woman made a swift mental 
 survey of him. 
 
 He'd been on a terrible spree, she decided. He 
 looked as if he had been drunk for days. That 
 he had something unusual on his mind, she knew, 
 and she knew too it was about Tonnibel, for 
 hadn't he asked for the kid the moment he'd 
 returned? After a long space of quietude through 
 which she almost held her breath, the man 
 dumped the ashes from his pipe over the deck-rail 
 and put in into his pocket. 
 
 "It's about time we was doing things, Ede," he 
 said, turning grimly. "I've waited as long as I 
 dared. Rege says 'Paul Pendlehaven hasn't an 
 inch leeway before he's in his coffin.' That much 
 I wedged out of the boy. He hates talkin' about 
 Pendlehavens something awful." 
 
 Airs. Devons' face grew deathly pale. 
 
 "What do you mean, honey?" she faltered. 
 
 "We live like rats in a hole," took up the man, 
 after a pause, "while if Tony was made to do
 
 The Master of the "Dirty Mary" 21 
 
 her part, we'd be on easy street. That's what I 
 mean." 
 
 "Oh, you make me sick," came in a whine. 
 "You'd get more money than we could use if 
 you'd be content to draw lumber to Albany and 
 not biff off and get drunk every little while, and 
 spend your last red with mutts like Reggie Brown. 
 I'm all right Tony's all right " 
 
 "Tonnibel'll be all right if she does my will," 
 broke in the man, setting his jaw. "We've got to 
 have money and lots of it. Reggie's willing to 
 marry the kid if you mind your business after- 
 wards. His marryin' her ain't sayin' he'll stick 
 to her. But we got to have boodle, and we can't 
 get it only through her." 
 
 "He shan't have 'er," the woman said, with 
 hard tones and flashing eyes. "How many times 've 
 I got to say it over to you? If that's the why 
 you've come to Ithaca, you might as well turn 
 the old scow north and go back again." 
 
 "Keep your mouth shut on that," snapped 
 Devon, lifting his fist. Evidently he changed his 
 mind as to the use of it, for his arm dropped and
 
 22 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines- 
 
 his fingers slowly relaxed. The woman took he art 
 at this. 
 
 "He's a bum," she went on. "A dude and a 
 fool and everything else that's bad. He's a thief 
 too." 
 
 Devon laughed. 
 
 "So am I, F.de." said he. "So 're you for that 
 matter. If Reggie knew that Tony was Paul 
 Pendlehaven's kid, we wouldn't get one damn 
 cent ot her money. He snitches from the Pendle- 
 havens and his mother because he don't get cash 
 enough other ways. A feller's got to have spend- 
 in' money." 
 
 "Pretty small pickin's," sneered Edith Devon. 
 "Now them clothes he give you the day you left! 
 They belonged to Paul Pendlehaven, and he's 
 dyin'. Stealin' from iolks almost in the grave 
 ain't my style. Reggie's some second story man. 
 that young duffer is." 
 
 "You sneaked Paul's kid," taunted Devon. 
 "He wouldn't be almost in his grave now if you'd 
 kept your hands off'n Tony." 
 
 The woman turned on him savagely, paying no 
 heed to his words.
 
 The Master of the "Dirty Mary" 23 
 
 "Get your blasted Reggie to steal enough for 
 us all from the Pendlehavens," she said. "God 
 knows they've got it and to spare. It's better'n 
 handin' Tony over to 'im. He lives at Pendle- 
 haven's, don't he?' 
 
 "He won't do it," cut in Devon. "Reggie ain't 
 got the nerve to burn his fingers too deep. Paul 
 Pendlehaven'd send him up for that, if he caught 
 him." 
 
 Mrs. Devon made a sound between a guttural 
 laugh and a grunt. 
 
 "Rats! Paul Pendlehaven wouldn't send any 
 one up for stealin', that boob wouldn't," she con- 
 tradicted. "Leastwise his own folks, and Reggie's 
 his cousin's kid. Paul's too damned religious for 
 that. But he'd send me up if he finds out I stole 
 his girl when she wasn't knee high to a grass- 
 hopper." 
 
 "He won't never find it out if you keep your 
 clack shut," was the gruff reply. "He's almost 
 dead, and my plan is to get Tony married to Rege, 
 and before the lid's screwed down on Pendle- 
 haven's face, shove the girl in between John Pen- 
 dlehaven and his precious cousin, Reggie's mother,
 
 24 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 and then Rege and me gets Tony's money, see?" 
 
 "I don't know as I do," drawled Mrs. Devon. 
 "But I do know one thing. Tony'd die in the 
 house with that Curtis woman and her spoiled 
 girl. Reggie'd kill 'er, and the women folks'd 
 make the house too hot to hold her. Anyhow, she 
 loves me, and her mother's dead. I've treated her 
 better'n any of the rest of 'em would, mebbe, 
 savin' her father and John Pendlehaven. They 
 all hated her." 
 
 "So you left and brought her away," meditated 
 the man, sullenly. 
 
 "Yes, I did, and I was a damn fool to tell you 
 anything about it ! God, but I been maudlin over 
 you ! I liked the kid when I took 'er, and I like 
 her now." 
 
 "Well, I don't," thrust back the man, "she 
 gets on my nerves. And the day's at hand for 
 her to do something. She's got to marry Reggie 
 and do it quick." 
 
 He paused, took out his pipe and refilled it. 
 With it suspended between his fingers, he pro- 
 ceeded huskily. 
 
 "You did say, Ede, that Tonnibel was rich,
 
 The Master of the "Dirtij Mary" 25 
 
 now didn't you"? What's hers is ours mine. 
 And Reggie's if he marries her. Him and me'll 
 halve it in two, and to hell with the kid. Fix it 
 up with her some way, only fix it up see'?" 
 
 On the end of the last sentence, he turned his 
 hollow eyes toward her, thrust the pipe between 
 his lips and lit it. "And if you value livin' a few 
 more years," he added, "don't peach to the kid 
 she's Pendlehaven's. I'll kill you, Ede, if you 
 do, and that's a easy thing for me when I make 
 my mind up, and the deep places of the lake 
 don't give up their dead. You'll mind eh?" 
 
 Edith shivered. 
 
 "I hear what you say," she muttered, "and I 
 'spose I'll do it if you promise not to let that pup 
 hurt Tony when he gets her. . . . Best let's wait 
 another year before talkin' marriage to her, 
 though." 
 
 "Nothin' doin'," rasped the man. "Tony's al- 
 most a woman, and she's eatin' her head off. She 
 always has to have two helpin's at the table when 
 one ought to fill her gullet. After she's mar- 
 ried " 
 
 The last three words were spoken ominously.
 
 26 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 He broke the statement off with a sulky, "God, 
 but you're as thin as a stepped-on angle- worm, 
 Ede!" 
 
 "And afterwards you two men'll rag the kid 
 to death or do something worse to her," gritted 
 the woman, paying no heed to his personal taunt. 
 "Well, you won't! Rather'n have that I'll tell 
 her she ain't ours. I'll go right bold to Paul 
 Pendlehaven and blurt him the truth. I'll do it 
 to-day if you keep naggin' at me." 
 
 Devon studied her face, his own distorted with 
 rage. 
 
 "You'll do no such a thing, mad woman," he 
 returned, running his tongue over his dry, cracked 
 lips. "If you get me in a temper you'd better look 
 out. Reggie knows Tonnibel's got rich folks, but 
 he don't know who they are. You spill the beans, 
 by God, and the lake for yours. Reggie says 
 
 "I wouldn't trust him as far as I could sling 
 a cat by the tail," interjected Mrs. Devon, hoarse- 
 ly. "I won't give him that baby. I won't, I 
 won't. She's mine! She ain't yours, Uriah." 
 
 "But you'll leave her to me just the same," 
 thrust back Devon, bending over toward her
 
 The Master of the "Dirty Mary" 27 
 
 fiercely. "Leave her to me, I say." The mur- 
 derous light in his bloodshot eyes sent the woman 
 shivering against the boat rail, and as the man 
 fell into a moody silence, she dared say no more. 
 
 "I hope you won't start to lickin' the kid 
 again," she burst forth presently. "I can't stand 
 seein' you beat her." 
 
 The man's eyes came slowly to the speaker's 
 face. 
 
 "If she does what I bid 'er, I'll leave the wal- 
 loping to Reggie," he muttered. "I tell you, she 
 gets on my nerves." 
 
 "That's because you don't know what a heart 
 she's got," was the weary reply. "She ain't our 
 kind, Tony ain't. She loves everything in the 
 world from her pig down to me. She'd like you 
 too if she wasn't so cussed afraid of vou." 
 
 j 
 
 "I don't want 'er to like me, mam ! Sharin' up 
 love with pigs and things like that, ain't to my 
 likin'." 
 
 Edith eyed him for some moments. 
 
 "Mebbe not," she admitted. "And I don't 
 blame you over much. Men 're that way. They 
 want the hull hog or none. The woe to me has
 
 28 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pings 
 
 been, I couldn't see nothin, but love tearin' at 
 me for you." 
 
 "And a little mixed in for Tonnibel," sneered 
 Devon. "You ain't fooled me all these years, 
 Ede. You've abused 'er before me and molly- 
 coddled 'er behind my back. God-all-Hemlocks, 
 you both make me sick in my stomick. I said, I 
 didn't want the brat to like me!" 
 
 Whether to gain time or because she had de- 
 cided to go against him, the woman retorted : 
 
 "Say, you got a sweet mood a settin' on your 
 chest, ain't you, Riah 1 ? You got out the wrong 
 side of the bed this morning, I guess. What's 
 eatin' you anyway?" 
 
 "Nothin' much, only I want the kid to under- 
 stand what's what," Devon grunted. 
 
 Again the woman's gaze sought the sheet ot 
 blue water. 
 
 "She'll grow a beard a mile long before I tell 
 'er," she said finally, bringing her eyes back to 
 his face. "Tell 'er yourself, and see how you like 
 it!" 
 
 There was a ring of revolt in her tones that 
 brought an expression of surprise to the man's
 
 The Master of the "Dirty Mary" 29 
 
 face, leaving it angrily, frowningly red. But the 
 sound cf a girl's voice off on the hill brought him 
 suddenly to his feet. 
 
 "There she is, by God," he cried abruptly. 
 "Now if you want any more lovin's from me 
 more'n that if you want to stay where I live, you 
 got to do my will." 
 
 "Uriah, honey darlin'," cried Edith, "don't 
 say that. I've always stuck by you." 
 
 "Then keep a stickin'," growled Devon. "For 
 God's sake, if the brat ain't lugged that pig clean 
 up that pine tree!"
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 URIAH DEVON NAMES THE PRICE 
 
 THE speaker's wife got up with a sigh and 
 looked off in the direction her husband was point- 
 ing. Above them a giant pine tree lifted its head 
 far above its fellows. Among its branches the man 
 and woman could plainly see the upper half of 
 a girl's figure settled in the crotch of an outspread- 
 ing limb, and clasped in two slender arms was 
 the small guinea pig. She bobbed her head 
 gravely, held up the animal and shook it at them. 
 
 Tony, herself, little knew why in times of strife 
 she sought refuge among these forest giants and 
 came always to happiness. They were animated 
 beings in her mean little world and because she 
 had showered idolatrous love on them they, from 
 their primeval grandeur, sent an answering spark 
 of life to her starved little soul. The sight ot 
 Tony further enraged Uriah. He waved her in.
 
 Uriah Devon Names the Price 31 
 
 "Now tell her outright, and get it over, Ede," 
 he said, sitting down again. 
 
 Like a squirrel, the girl slipped down the tree 
 to the ground, the pig hanging to one arm. Then 
 she picked her way toward the boat, unmindful 
 of the briars and thorns that once in a while 
 touched her bare legs. Half way she paused as 
 a hidden squirrel chattered somewhere above her. 
 She tossed her face upward and smiled as if to 
 a friend. The squalor of her life had not suc- 
 ceeded in choking the love of nature from Ton- 
 nibel Devon's heart. She adored the blue of the 
 sky, the song of the birds and the flowers that 
 grew in profusion along the streams and lay hid- 
 den in the forest. 
 
 She would much rather have gone back to the 
 branch in the tree than to the boat, for Tonnibel 
 would put off the dreadful moment of meeting 
 her father if she dared. However, at another wave 
 of Devon's hand, she moved on with a slight 
 shiver. 
 
 She wondered what he wanted her for as she 
 climbed down the rocks to the path. For an in-
 
 2 The Shadow of Hie Sheltering Pineg 
 
 stant after reaching the canal boat, she stood 
 looking at her parents. 
 
 "Set down," growled Devon. 
 
 Shifting the pig a little, she dropped down on 
 the deck. She always dreaded these talks with 
 her father and mother. It usually meant they 
 must move on, or perhaps that a thrashing was 
 coming her way. From under her long lashes she 
 glimpsed first Devon with his frowning brow, 
 then at length let her gaze settle on the woman. 
 
 "I s'pose I been doin' something hellish," she 
 ventured presently in a low tone. "Have I, 
 Edie?" 
 
 "Nope, not this time, Tony," thrust in Devon. 
 "But we've got to tell you something. You're 
 gettin' to be a woman now, Tonnibel, and you 
 got to do something for your mother and me." 
 
 At the wheedling tones the young head flung 
 upwards, and the pig slid to the boat deck. A 
 flash of pity deepened the gray eyes, and the 
 sensitive lips quivered. 
 
 "I'm always wantin' to do something nice for 
 you, Edie, darling," she said, looking at her
 
 Uriah Devon Names the Price 33 
 
 mother. "Yap it out quick, sweet, and I'll jump 
 to do it!" 
 
 The woman began to cry softly, and Tonnibel 
 hitched across the deck and leaned her head 
 against her mother's knee. 
 
 "Don't do that," she breathed. "Don't cry, 
 mummy dear. Your kid loves you." 
 
 But the tender tones only brought a renewed 
 burst of tears from Mrs. Devon. 
 
 "Just go on, and tell me, honey," insisted the 
 girl. "Just " 
 
 "Yes, go on, Ede," came in interruption from 
 Uriah Devon. "Why in hell are you blubberin' 
 over a thing you can't help*?" 
 
 "But I can help it," cried Edith. "And what's 
 more I will. Run away, baby, and I'll have it out 
 with your Pop while you're gone." 
 
 Devon reached forward and laid a strong de- 
 taining hand on the girl's arm. 
 
 "It's this," he got out between his teeth. "You 
 got to get married. You been livin' on me long 
 enough." 
 
 He hadn't intended to place the matter so 
 abruptly and wouldn't have done it but for
 
 34 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Edith's outburst. The girl stared at him 
 blankly. 
 
 "Get married," she repeated dully. "Who'd 
 marry a brat like me? I'm nothin' but a kid yet, 
 and I'm goin' to stay right here with my mother. 
 See? I don't have to do I, mummy darlin"?" 
 
 "Your ma's word ain't law on this boat," 
 answered Uriah, in an ugly tone. "Mine is, 
 though. Fire ahead, Ede, and tell the kid my 
 will." 
 
 Mrs. Devon coughed spasmodically and toyed 
 with the fabric of her skirt. A slender brown hand 
 went up and closed over her twitching fingers. 
 
 "I wouldn't marry any of the mutts you know, 
 daddy," the girl burst out in desperation. ''So get 
 that notion clean out of your mind." 
 
 Her face settled sullenly into little lines that 
 pursed up the lovely young mouth, and Uriah 
 Devon moved his feet nervously. Perhaps his task 
 wasn't going to be so easy after all. 
 
 "Kid," he said huskily, "if you don't do what 
 you're told, I'll make you. You ain't too old to 
 gad yet. And you'll be missin' one of the best 
 lickin's you ever got if you mind what I tell you.
 
 Uriah Devon Names the Price 35 
 
 Your mother here's too damned mealy mouthed 
 for any purpose of mine. Me and you'll get on 
 fine if you buck up to my words." 
 
 The same wheedling tone came into his voice 
 on the last sentence. The girl eyed him curiously, 
 making a sidewise gesture with her head. 
 
 "Who's the duffer you've chose out for me*?" 
 she asked at length. "You might as well tell me." 
 
 "My friend, Reggie," said Devon, bending over 
 and staring at her. 
 
 Tonnibel's mouth widened until two rows of 
 teeth gleamed through the red of her lips. 
 
 "Goddy, how funny," she gulped. "I thought 
 you was in earnest, pappy. Why, that mutt's a 
 devil. He even kicked my Gussie-piglet here. Any 
 man who'd hurt a little feller like Gussie 'd beat 
 
 his woman She made a wry face 
 
 "Nothin' like that for me, eh, Edie?' 
 
 Edith Devon was coming to a resolution that 
 meant trouble for herself and for Tonnibel. 
 
 "I ain't fought it all out with your daddy, 
 kid," she sniffled weakly. "You get to the cabin 
 and mend them old clothes."
 
 36 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Uriah Devon laid his pipe beside him and 
 uttered an oath. 
 
 "You'll stay right here, brat," he gritted, "and 
 pay heed to me." 
 
 "Uriah," screamed the woman, "if you go on 
 with this, I'll tell 'er all I know. I swear I will. 
 Tony, honey, Tony baby, I I ain't " 
 
 With a roar the man sprang forward and in his 
 effort to reach his wife knocked the girl flat on 
 the deck. When Tonnibel rolled over and sat up, 
 her mother was stretched along the boat rail, and 
 Devon was standing over her. She lay so dread- 
 fully still and limp that the girl scrambled to 
 her feet. 
 
 It wasn't the same Tony who had come fear- 
 fully to them but a short period before with the 
 little pig in her arms; nor the same girl who had 
 swung in the tree tops making play fellows of 
 the squirrels and answering the shrill calls of the 
 forest birds. She seemed suddenly to have grown 
 taller, and as she flung herself on Devon, the very 
 strength of her lithe body sent him sprawling 
 against the side of the cabin. 
 
 "Now you killed her, damn you," she screamed.
 
 Uriah Devon Names the Price 37 
 
 "If you kick 'er I'll I'll " She dropped at 
 
 the side of her mother, her threat broken in two 
 by the awful pallor on the woman's face. "Oh, 
 God, mummy darlin', mummy darlin'," she ended 
 in a bitter cry. 
 
 Growling in rage, Devon turned on her. 
 
 "Mebbe I have killed 'er," said he. "If so, I'll 
 make a good job of it and finish you too." 
 
 The girl rose before him, her eyes blazing into 
 his, her little fists clenched together. 
 
 "Folks that murder other people, Pappy 
 Devon," she shot back, "get strapped in a chair, 
 and they get lightning run through 'em. Go on 
 and finish up! Go on and finish me! I'd ruther 
 have you kill me than make me marry that old 
 Reggie." 
 
 As if his name had brought him out of the 
 forest, Reginald Brown walked down the Hog- 
 hole path. 
 
 "Ah!" hissed through Devon's teeth. '"Now, 
 miss, I guess you won't be so cussed impudent. 
 Here's two of us to deal with."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE PICTURE OF A BABY 
 
 TONNIBEL'S heart jumped almost into her 
 throat, then seemed to cease beating. There stood 
 her father growling, enraged and drunk, and as 
 if she were dead and no longer able to help her 
 child, her mother lay almost within touching 
 distance. And between her and the forest depths, 
 where she daily fled from brutality, was the bit- 
 terest enemy she knew. Not until this hour had 
 she thought of that swaggering, advancing young 
 man as an enemy. Always before he had been but 
 a passing presence, coming and going as he liked, 
 amid a disdainful silence on her part and her 
 mother's. 
 
 But to-day oh, God -to-day how things had 
 changed! If Uriah carried out his plans, then the 
 horrid fellow there would soon claim her as his 
 woman. That thought frightened her so that she
 
 The Picture of a Baby 39 
 
 stepped back as the newcomer came upon the 
 deck. 
 
 "What's the matter, Ry 4 ?" he asked quite 
 casually. 
 
 "He's killed mummy," burst forth the girl. 
 "And if both you fellers don't want to get 
 pinched, you'd better scoot offen this boat." 
 
 Uriah laughed, and Reggie's high-pitched 
 cackle followed. 
 
 "Been giving your woman a little discipline, eh, 
 pal?" he demanded, turning on Devon. "Wel^ 
 they all need it now and then. But she's the 
 liveliest breathing corpse I ever saw. Did you hit 
 'er, Dev?" 
 
 "Yep," growled the other man, "and I'm goin" 
 to beat Tony too. The impudent brat says she 
 wouldn't marry you if you was the last man 
 livin'." 
 
 Reggie turned a pair of muddy-colored eyes on 
 Tonnibel, and she quailed beneath the slow smile 
 that ran around his sensuous mouth. 
 
 "She's never seen me mad yet," he said, bring- 
 ing his heels together with a click, "and when she 
 does, I guess she'll be glad to marry me. Put your
 
 40 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 woman below, Uriah. If any one passes on the 
 lake, it might arouse suspicion to see her there. 
 God, but you did give her a wallop, didn't you, 
 Devon'?" 
 
 Devon assented by a nod of his head, followed 
 by, "Sure, you bet your feet I did! You watch 
 the brat there, Rege, while I duck Ede in the 
 cabin. . . . Oh, God, these women!" he ended 
 with a grunt. 
 
 Tonnibel, wide-eyed and suffering, saw her 
 father lift her mother up in his brawny arms and 
 carry her downstairs, none too gently. When he 
 had disappeared, a throat sound made her swing 
 her eyes to the other man. He was contemplating 
 her with a smile, an evil smile, such as she hated 
 in men. His white teeth seemed like many gleam- 
 ing knives, sharp, strong, and overhanging, his 
 red lips spreading away from them. 
 
 He took a step toward her and stopped. 
 
 "Why so much fuss about nothing, my little 
 one'^" he said, cooing. 
 
 "Daddy said I had to marry you," breathed 
 the girl, brushing back a stray curl from her brow. 
 "But I don't! I'm goin' to stay with my mother
 
 The Picture of a Baby 41 
 
 on the 'Dirty Mary.' Anyway you're a swell, and 
 a swell can't want to marry a kid like me." 
 
 "But what if I do, sweetheart?" Reggie mur- 
 mured, mincing forward another step. 
 
 Tonnibel widened the space between them by 
 sliding backward. 
 
 "I won't, you can bank on it, I won't," she 
 snapped. "There ain't no law forcing a girl to 
 marry a man she don't like. And I hate you, see? 
 Huh 4 ?" 
 
 "Who spoke of a law?" smiled Brown. "I 
 didn't I But I do know, my little Tony-girl, that 
 you'll say a very meek 'yes' when I get through 
 with you." 
 
 Tonnibel suddenly shuddered and a hopeless, 
 helpless feeling went in waves over her. She 
 hadn't lived all her young years among her 
 father's kind without knowing that women meant 
 little to the men who came about them. She shot 
 a glance to the western hill. 
 
 Oh, to be anywhere in God's clear, clean world ! 
 Away from those gleaming lustful eyes ! But she 
 saw no opportunity to escape. Reginald Brown 
 was blocking the small space through which she
 
 42 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 must fly if she were to be saved at all. She knew 
 very well if she could hide for a little while the 
 two men would drink until they slept. Then she 
 could come back and help her mother. Plainly she 
 had heard the woman weeping below in the cabin, 
 and even more plainly to her suffering ears came 
 Devon's blows, and after that silence. 
 
 Her heart thumped like a hammer against her 
 side. Behind her lay the shining lake. And one 
 hasty glance over her shoulder only added to her 
 fear. There was not a sign of a boat anywhere. 
 She was frantic enough to scream if it would have 
 done her any good. 
 
 "I think I'll kiss you, my little bird," said Reg- 
 gie, suddenly, narrowing his eyes. "You're pretty 
 enough for any one to want to kiss. By Jove, I 
 never realized until to-day just how much I liked 
 you. If I kissed you, well perhaps you'd change 
 your mind about about things." 
 
 Kiss her? God! she'd rather die than have his 
 wet red lips against her face. He was lessening 
 the distance between them with short clicking 
 steps, but like a cat torturing a mouse, he was do- 
 ing it slowly, smiling the while, and as slowly
 
 The Picture of a Baby 43 
 
 Tonnibel slid backward to the boat rail. When 
 she touched it, she whirled about and dove head- 
 long into the lake. 
 
 When Reginald Brown saw the girl's feet dis- 
 appear under the water, he uttered an oath and 
 cried out. He hadn't expected such an action on 
 her part. He ran to the cabin steps and screamed 
 to Devon. 
 
 "She's in the lake, Ry," he shivered as the other 
 man sprang to the deck. 
 
 Then with searching eyes they watched the 
 lake's surface for Tonnibel to appear. Devon 
 knew that there where she had leapt in the water 
 was deep. He knew, too, that she swam like a 
 fish. 
 
 \Vhen Tonnibel felt the water cover her, she 
 swept to the lake's bottom with one long stroke. 
 Then deftly she rid herself of her dress skirt and 
 began to swim swiftly under the water. 
 
 They were tense minutes that the two men stood 
 waiting, until suddenly beyond them to the south 
 a curly head came above the water's edge. Then 
 they leapt to the shore and raced toward the place 
 she must land. To the panting girl it was a race
 
 44 The Shadow of ike Sheltering Pines 
 
 for life. She didn't dare turn back and swim 
 out into the lake and, fighting down a cry, she 
 measured the distance her enemies had to run and 
 the stretch of water between her and the shore. 
 
 Suddenly, like a flashing glimpse from Heaven, 
 the words, "Stand still and see the Salvation of 
 the Lord," floated before her eyes like a flame of 
 gold. Philip MacCauley's deep voice seemed to 
 speak them in her ringing ears immediately after. 
 "Goddy," she groaned, "Salvation of the Lord, 
 oh, darlin' Salvation." 
 
 Just then her feet touched the pebbles on the 
 bottom of the lake. With one wild leap she was 
 on the shore and up the bank, Uriah screaming at 
 her to stop. 
 
 She heard the two men crashing after her. That 
 her short, swift leaps could outdistance them for 
 long if she tried for the Boulevard, she had no 
 hop. But all about her were giant friends with 
 outstretched arms, offering her shelter. For one 
 instant she paused, then sprang into the air, caught 
 the lower branch of a great pine tree and like a 
 squirrel scurried up it. Almost at the top, 
 spanned over by the blue sky, she crawled out
 
 The Picture of a Baly ^ 
 
 to the end of a big limb and clung to it. Be- 
 neath her the men paused and shouted curses up 
 
 at her. Tonnibel cared nothing for curses. She'd , 
 heard them an lier ine, used them, too, when she 
 felt like it. After resting a few moments, she 
 slowly opened her eyes and looked down. Devon 
 
 was shaking his fist at her, and Reginald Brown 
 was battering at the tree. Neither of them would 
 dare risk climbing after her. Tonnibel knew 
 that. Little by little she began to breathe easier. 
 How long they would force her to stay there she 
 gave no thought. Tonnibel Devon was living 
 only by the minute. 
 
 "Come down, huzzy," Devon gritted at her. 
 "Come down, or I'll kill you." 
 
 Reggie added to this, clicking his heels, 
 
 "Don't make me mad, my dear. Come down 
 instantly, Tony, my girl!" 
 
 'Til stay here till I die," she GCfeamed back, 
 sticking out her tongue. "Go on home, Pop, and 
 help Edie." 
 
 "Help her yourself," shouted Devon. 
 
 Then he picked up a stone and threw it at her. 
 It fell short of the swinging figure by a few feet
 
 46 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 and crashed through the lower branches to the 
 ground. The stone frightened Tonnibel more 
 than the oaths. 
 
 Dazedly she heard Reginald Brown say to her 
 father that if he hit her with a rock she'd fall. 
 That caused Devon to throw away the stone he 
 held, and then Tonnibel saw them sit down. 
 With a sobbing cry she crept along to the body 
 of the tree and cuddled there. Hung high in the 
 protection of one of her singing pines, her 
 thoughts became busy with her mother, her be- 
 loved in the cabin of the canal boat. Was she 
 dead, or would she soon come and send the men 
 away*? 
 
 Suddenly there came to her ears the lapping 
 of a paddle in the lake. She flung up her head, 
 peeped out and saw a canoe taking its leisurely 
 way toward Ithaca. She bent over and looked 
 down. 
 
 "Daddy," she cried, "there's some one rowin' 
 on the lake. I'm goin' to holler like hell. And 
 when he comes, I'll tell 'im how you banged Ede, 
 and if she's croaked, you'll both get jailed. . . . 
 Here's where I holler!"
 
 The Picture of a Baby 47 
 
 She sent out a quick birdlike trill, and the man 
 in the canoe held his paddle suspended in the 
 air as he studied the forest. This didn't interest 
 Tonnibel as much as did the fact that Devon 
 and Reggie Brown jumped to their feet and raced 
 away toward the Boulevard. Tonnibel from her 
 perch saw them disappear toward Ithaca before 
 she slid to the ground. 
 
 The man in the canoe, too, made but a short 
 pause before he dipped his paddle and shot away. 
 On the deck of the boat Tonnibel picked up Gus- 
 sie-Piglet and, dripping wet, went swiftly down 
 the cabin steps. There she found her mother on 
 the bunk, her face discolored by her husband's 
 blows. She looked as if she were dead, and for 
 a moment the forlorn child of the wilderness ut- 
 tered heartbroken little cries for help. 
 
 If some one would only come! If she only 
 knew how to bring back to the dear eyes the light 
 of life, to hear Edith call her, "Honey Tony," 
 anything rather than have her lie there so still. 
 The cabin was cluttered in the struggle Uriah 
 Devon had had with his wife. In despair Tony 
 looked around. The old clothes daddy had
 
 48 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 brought home were strewn over the cabin floor. 
 Tonnibel heaped them together, then began to 
 examine them. 
 
 They needed nothing but pressing. This she'd 
 do to save her mother the work; and perhaps the 
 fact that he had something ready to sell would 
 make Uriah less brutal when he came back. In 
 running her fingers over a coat, searching for 
 small rents, Tony felt something between the lin- 
 ing and the outside, a book it seemed like, which 
 she hastily pulled out. It was small and much 
 worn. Opening it carefully, she took out the con- 
 tents. There wasn't any money in it, in fact 
 nothing but a picture, wrapped up in paper. 
 
 She looked at the picture curiously. A baby's 
 face smiled up at her, and her own lips curved 
 a bit in answer to the laughing challenge in the 
 little one's eyes. 
 
 Then she turned it over. 
 
 On the back was written: 
 
 "My baby, Caroline Pendlehaven, aged six 
 months. If this picture is ever lost the finder will 
 receive a money reward by returning it to Dr.
 
 The Picture of a Baby 49 
 
 Paul Pendlehaven, Pcndlehaven Place, Ithaca, 
 N. Y." 
 
 Tears welled into Tonnibel's eyes, and for a 
 moment her mind went to the father of the baby. 
 With her sleeve she wiped away her tears. Paul 
 Pendlehaven ! She had often heard of him. 
 Hadn't her father spoken of him to her mother, 
 with hatred in his tones? 
 
 Hadn't he laughed once in her hearing when 
 he had gruffly said that this Doctor Pendlehaven 
 was almost dead 1 ? She wished she might give him 
 back the picture before he went to his grave. 
 
 Then suddenly it occurred to her that money 
 was offered for it. Money was what Edie needed. 
 Money, food and a doctor. If she could find this 
 Paul Pendlehaven, perhaps in exchange for the 
 picture he would give her a bottle of medicine for 
 her mother. 
 
 Hastily changing her wet clothes, she slipped 
 the baby's pictured face into her blouse, turned 
 down the lamp and crept from the canal boat and 
 with Gussie in her arms was soon lost in the for- 
 est.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE PENDLEHAVENS 
 
 IN all of Tompkins County no family had more 
 prestige than Pendlehavens'. John and Paul 
 Pendlehaven had chosen medicine and surgery as 
 their vocation when they were in college. John 
 was a bachelor, and Paul a widower. At the time 
 this story opens the latter was an invalid, his 
 infirmity brought about by the death of his young 
 wife who had died at the birth of their daughter, 
 and the disappearance of the little girl when she 
 was but a year old. Pendlehaven Place comprised 
 a whole city block, on which stood a house, almost 
 a mansion. In the family were John, Paul, and 
 Mrs. Curtis and her two children, Katherine and 
 Reginald. Mrs. Curtis was a second cousin to the 
 Pendlehaven brothers and had made her home 
 with them since her children had been left father- 
 less. Mrs. Curtis had buried two husbands, 
 
 50
 
 The Pendlehavens 51 
 
 Silas Curtis, the father of Katherine, and Edmund 
 Brown, the father of Reginald. 
 
 For over a year now Paul Pendlehaven had 
 not left his apartments in the southern wing of 
 the house. Many times he had told his brother, 
 John, that he only waited with what patience he 
 could for the call to go away, to follow after his 
 girl-wife, and perhaps, well perhaps his child 
 might now be with her mother. 
 
 It was anguish to the sturdy John to listen 
 to his brother's wishes to die. Added to that, 
 he was worried about the Curtis family. To his 
 upright mind they had settled upon him, a trio 
 of parasites. 
 
 On the day that Uriah Devon returned from 
 his week's bout, Dr. Pendlehaven was seated oppo- 
 site his cousin, Mrs. Curtis, at dinner. 
 
 "Sarah," he began gravely, "I wish you'd con- 
 sent to my taking Reginald in hand for a time. 
 He will be absolutely ruined if something isn't 
 done with him." 
 
 The coquettish smile which Mrs. Curtis always 
 used in the presence of the eminent doctor left her 
 face, and her lips drew down at the corners.
 
 52 The; Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "What's he been doing now, cousin dear 4 ?" she 
 whimpered. 
 
 "What doesn't he do that's wicked and 
 wrong?" thrust in Katherine Curtis. "He hasn't 
 been home for three days." 
 
 "I can't see he's any different than any other 
 boy," the mother defended swiftly. "He may 
 not be just what Philip MacCauley is, but 
 then " 
 
 "He can't hold a candle to Philip," interrupted 
 Katherine, serenely. "Now, Philip well ii 
 Philip weren't connected with those common Sal- 
 vation Army people, he'd be be divine." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I see," broke in the mother. "It's 
 always Philip. What Philip thinks, what 
 Philip does, just as if he were an angel. Well, 
 he isn't even if he is a Salvationist, I'll have you 
 know that. Boys will be boys!" 
 
 Katherine began to speak again impetuously, 
 but John Pendlehaven stopped her with a ges- 
 ture. 
 
 "What Philip does or what he doesn't do has 
 nothing to do with Reginald, my dear Sarah," he
 
 The Pendleliavens 53 
 
 said. "Reginald can scarcely speak a truthful 
 word." 
 
 "You mean he lies," flashed Mrs. Curtis, with 
 an angry sparkle. "I suppose that's what you 
 mean, isn't it w ? I think it's perfectly dreadful 
 the way everybody picks on my poor boy. . . . 
 Katherine, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, 
 and he's your own brother too." 
 
 "My half brother, darling," corrected the girl, 
 impudently. "And I'm ashamed to admit he is 
 any relation at all. If he'd pattern after Philip 
 and a few of the boys who go to college, Reggie's 
 family wouldn't need to be mortified at the sound 
 of his name." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis looked belligerently from Dr. 
 Pendlehaven to her daughter. 
 
 "What's he done now? I asked it once, and I 
 ask it again," she cried loudly. 
 
 "He isn't going to college at all," said the doc- 
 tor. "He won't pass any of his examinations if 
 he doesn't go to class and get his hours in. . . ." 
 He paused a moment and then went on, "Another 
 thing I dislike to speak of, but I must. Reginald
 
 54 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 has no idea of mine and thine. I'm very much 
 afraid he takes what doesn't belong to him." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis uttered a squeal. 
 
 "Goodness gracious, now you accuse him of 
 stealing," she screamed. 
 
 An expression of sympathy crossed Dr. Pen- 
 dlehaven's face. He felt grieved that he had had 
 to speak thus to any mother. How often he had 
 pleaded with Reginald himself to be honest, but 
 to no avail ! 
 
 "I'm afraid he does, Sarah," he answered gen- 
 tly. "Constantly I'm missing money and things. 
 It will hurt you to know that some one almost 
 stripped my wardrobe of clothes, and now I find 
 there isn't much left for poor Paul." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis started to speak, but Dr. Pen- 
 dlehaven went on, 
 
 "Paul is very much distressed! I suppose if 
 Reginald did take them, he thought they were of 
 no value!" 
 
 "Were they*?" queried Mrs. Curtis, leaning 
 over the table, still very angry. 
 
 "Why, mamma !" exclaimed Katherine. "You
 
 The Pendlehavens 55 
 
 see, Cousin John, how she upholds that bad, bad 
 boy." 
 
 "Whether they were or not, Sarah," replied 
 Dr. Pendlehaven, ignoring his young cousin's 
 appeal, "they didn't belong to him. And they 
 were valuable to Paul in that they held some- 
 thing he prized highly." 
 
 Something clutched at his throat as he spoke. 
 He couldn't tell this flippant mother who shielded 
 her unruly son in his evil deeds that the only 
 thing of any worth that went away with the 
 clothes was a baby's picture; and that much of 
 his time had been spent with his sick brother in 
 soothing away his loss. She would have scoffed 
 at that, and the thought of such heartlessness 
 gave Dr. John a twinge in his side. For years 
 both he and Paul had given her and her childien 
 a home, years in which he had striven for her bey 
 and girl as if they'd been his own. 
 
 "It hasn't been my habit to interfere between 
 you and your children, Sarah," he said, "but I 
 do wish you'd ask the boy if he did take Paul's 
 clothes. If he's sold them, I'll pay whatever the 
 amount is."
 
 56 Tli-e Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "How perfectly disgusting," snapped Mrs. Cur- 
 tis. "If the child did sell them, thinking they 
 were no good, you'd certainly not want them back 
 from a second hand shop." She lifted her hand- 
 kerchief ana began to cry again. "It was only a 
 boyish prank," siie wept, "and boys will be boys. 
 I said it once, and I say it again." 
 
 "It was plain stealing, that's what it was, 
 mamma," said Katherine, severely, "and the dis- 
 gusting part is you don't say a thing to Rggic 
 about his wickedness." % 
 
 Dr. Pendlehaven rose from the tab!*, 
 
 "Ask him about the suits, Sarah," hs said, walk- 
 ing toward the doer. "Perhaps if you tell him, 
 Paul will give him a hundred dollar- for them 
 and the contents of their pock-ts, hs'U look them 
 up." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis rose with dignity, her damp hand- 
 kerchief clenched in her hand. 
 
 "I'll not insult my only son," she said dis- 
 tinctly. 
 
 "Then I will the minute he comes back," thrust 
 in Katherine, "He's a bad boy. That's what he
 
 The Pendlehavenx 57 
 
 With a gesture of despair, Dr. Pendlehaven 
 went out of the room. 
 
 For a moment after he'd gone, and the sound 
 of his footsteps had been lost in the corridor, the 
 mother stared at her daughter. 
 
 "The fact is," she burst out, "it's as Cousin 
 John says, I haven't much influence over Reggie, 
 but I don't believe he's as bad as people say. In 
 a little town like this a person can't take a step 
 sideways without old wags commenting on it. I 
 hate Ithaca for just that reason." 
 
 "If Reggie'd behave himself," replied the 
 lady's daughter in a bored tone, "he wouldn't 
 have to be chattered about. My advice is, mam- 
 ma, that you give him a good raking over. It's 
 awful for him to steal " 
 
 "Then why doesn't Cousin John give him more 
 money?" demanded Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 "He does give him a hundred a month to spend 
 as he likes now, and yet he steals," replied Kath- 
 erine. She turned squarely upon her mother and 
 proceeded sharply, "If you don't mind your P's 
 and Q's you'll never have Cousin John for your 
 third husband, I can tell you that. "You're no
 
 58 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 nearer marrying him than you were ten years ago, 
 as I can see." 
 
 "I will, though, Miss Impudence," flashed back 
 the woman. "Paul won't be much more than in 
 his grave before your Cousin John makes me his 
 wife. I wish to Heaven Paul would die, and 
 and I don't notice with all your flirting and ma- 
 neuvering you're getting your claws on Philip. 
 . . . Ah, that shot told!" 
 
 Katherine's face had gone red at the words, 
 then very white. 
 
 "How perfectly vile," she exclaimed, with a 
 catch in her voice. Then she straightened up and 
 laughed. "Well, I'm not forty-five years old and 
 pretending I'm thirty-five, anyway, nor do I dye 
 my hair, and flounce out with lace to prove I'm 
 young. There's a shot for you, mother darling!' : 
 
 Mrs. Curtis bounced toward the door, her head 
 held very high. 
 
 "I wish to Heaven I'd never had any children, 
 that's what I wish," she cried, turning back and 
 looking at the girl. "Yes, that means you too, 
 my lady. I can't get enough money to keep my-
 
 The Pendlehavens 59 
 
 self going much less two lazy spendthrifts like 
 you and Reggie." 
 
 Katherine laughed again. 
 
 "Cop Cousin John quick, my dear," she taunt- 
 ed, "before you are in your second childhood. 
 And I well, if money depends on Cousin Paul's 
 stepping off then here's a prayer to speed him. 
 on his way." 
 
 The irate Mrs. Curtis rushed out of the roomv 
 followed by her daughter's mocking laugh. 
 
 After a few moments the girl got up and went 
 to the window and looked out into the sweeping 
 carriage-way. Across her brow were tiny crooked 
 lines, and a fretful expression distorted the pretty 
 mouth. She could see from where she stood the 
 corner of the wing in which Paul Pendlehaven 
 lived. Of late she had lost all sympathy for 
 him. It was tiresome to know that his holding 
 to the slender thread of life kept away from her 
 and her mother the funds they needed. Suddenly 
 a radiating smile chased away the shadows. She 
 lifted her hand and waved it and with happy, 
 sobbing breaths opened the long French door and. 
 stepped to the porch.
 
 00 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 'I was in hopes you'd come, Philip," she said 
 :o a young man, walking up the steps. "Cousin 
 John's been expecting you. Did you see Reggie 
 downtown'? He hasn't been home in three days." 
 Philip doffed his cap, arid smiled at her. 
 "Quite a while ago I saw him on State Street," 
 he said. "I went down the lake canoeing. I 
 
 I " His hesitation came from a memory of 
 
 a girl, a girl with gray eyes who had listened to his 
 sermon the night before on Love, and who, so he 
 admitted to himself, had sent him down the lake 
 that afternoon. 
 
 "Mother's been having a fit because the town 
 people are all talking about Reginald," broke in 
 the girl, turning back into the house. "He's so 
 unmanageable." The two young people walked 
 through the dining room and into the spacious 
 music hall. 
 
 Katherine laughingly, rosily, inrited the boy to 
 
 be seated. 
 
 "I can't stay a minute," he excused. "What'* 
 Reggie been doing, Kathie 4 ?" 
 
 "He's been stealing," replied Katherine, "so 
 Cousin John says. His and Cousin Paul's clothes.
 
 The Pendlehavens 61 
 
 Think of it ! Such petty thieving. Isn't it awful, 
 Phil?" 
 
 A shocked expression passed over the young 
 
 man's face. 
 
 "Surely he wouldn't steal from Paul Pcndle- 
 haven," he said soberly. 
 
 "Evidently! Cousin John says he's caught 
 him taking things," replied the girl. "We just 
 don't know what to do. Cousin John says there 
 was something valuable in the things he took from 
 Paul, and he seemed awfully grave about it." 
 
 Then she began to cry softly. 
 
 Much concerned, Philip MacCauley went for- 
 ward to where she had thrown herself into a chair. 
 He leaned against the mantle and looked down 
 upon her. 
 
 "I wish I could do something about it," he 
 said gently. "Is there anything you could think 
 of?" 
 
 "Perhaps if you could fetch him home," she 
 burst out. "Perhaps we could " 
 
 She stopped, caught her breath and went on. 
 "There he is now. I hear him whistling." 
 
 They spoke no more for the moment it took
 
 62 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 the advancing footsteps to reach the room in 
 which they sat. 
 
 The door opened, and Reginald Brown stepped 
 over the threshold. He looked at the girl, saw 
 she'd been crying, and stopped. 
 
 "What's the matter, sis'?" he asked, grinning. 
 "Philip been making you have a spell of weeps*? 
 Lecturing you on your aimless, Christless life 
 eh?" 
 
 Katherine glared at him. 
 
 "No, he hasn't," she answered curtly. "Where 
 have you been, and what'd you do with the clothes 
 you took from Cousin Paul? John's furious." 
 
 The boy's face took on an expression of sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "So the stately cousin discovered I did it, did 
 he?" he asked. "Well, he might as well give up 
 all hopes of seeing them again. They're gone for 
 good. I didn't know the truck was worth any- 
 thing. Paul never goes anywhere to need 'em, 
 so why make a fuss?" 
 
 "Well, go on, and see mamma," said the girl. 
 "She's got it in for you this time." 
 
 Reggie laughed, and made for the door.
 
 The Pendlehavens 63 
 
 "I'll be gone, fair lady," said he, "and will 
 keep out of the way until my dearest mother gets 
 back her charming disposition." 
 
 With that he went out, and Katherine sighed. 
 
 "He's perfectly unendurable," she gasped. 
 "Oh, do sit down, Philip. I'm wild with appre- 
 hension." 
 
 "I'm sorry, Kathie dear," said the young man, 
 and of a surety he was sorry. His face expressed 
 more than mere concern. 
 
 "Perhaps I could run in to-morrow, and we'll 
 go over those songs," he said. "Would you like 
 that? I wish you'd work among the squatters 
 a little. You do sing so well." 
 
 A shiver of disgust swept over the girl. 
 
 "I couldn't, Phil," she replied. "I'd love to 
 do something for you but not that not that." 
 
 Katherine had to be satisfied to have him leave 
 her just then, but the moment he was out of sight 
 the lines appeared again on the white brow. 
 
 For three years she had been madly, passion- 
 ately in love with Philip MacCauley, an intimate 
 friend of the family. The young man's home 
 adjoined hers, and during his orphaned boyhood
 
 64 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 he'd spent a great deal of his spare time at the 
 Pendlehavens'. But since he'd returned from 
 France and had taken up the Salvation Army 
 work, a work which Katherine held in open con- 
 tempt, the intimacy had about ceased. 
 
 For a long time after he had left her, she sat 
 hoping he'd come back when he had finished his 
 business with Cousin John. He'd been so kind 
 that day, and the touch of his hand thrilled her 
 KO. When at length she v/as assured that she'd 
 gee him no more, the proud dark head sank to her 
 arms, and she wept silently until the stir of foot- 
 steps told her some one was coming, and she rose 
 hastily and slipped out of the room.
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 DR. JOHN HAS A VISITOR 
 
 AFTER remaining hidden in the forest for some 
 time, Tonnibel stole along toward Ithaca in the 
 gathering gloom, her heart filled with hope. She 
 felt sure that her father and his pal would not 
 come back to the boat that night if they once 
 got into a saloon. To get some medicine for 
 Edith, and to take back the picture to the father 
 who had offered money for it, were the two things 
 she wanted to do now. Her young mind was 
 busy with plans for her mother. If she could find 
 some work to do, and Edith would go with her, 
 she would get well again. 
 
 A choking sensation came to Tonnibel's throat. 
 Oh, how she wanted to see the dear face wreathed 
 in smiles, to hear a glad ring in the voice now 
 perpetually sad. But that could not be as long 
 as Uriah was around. Tonnibel could remember 
 
 65
 
 66 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 the few times her father had spent in jail. Of 
 course her mother missed him, had longed for 
 him, but then they were both happier. Their 
 wants were few, and somehow they managed to 
 get enough to eat and to live on the boat during 
 Uriah's absences. She suddenly wished he were 
 in jail now, right this minute. If he had been 
 she could have walked out in the middle of the 
 Boulevard instead of creeping along the edge, like 
 a scared rabbit. Of course she would have an- 
 swered that night-bird up there in the pine tree, 
 calling weirdly to his missing mate. But, fear- 
 ing if she did, that her daddy might spring out 
 at her, she was very quiet until she reached the 
 northern end of the squatter settlement. Here 
 she gathered courage. If she met her father and 
 Reggie Brown, and they tried to take her away 
 with them, she'd raise such a row they'd be glad 
 to let her go. 
 
 In front of the Salvation Army quarters she 
 paused and looked longingly at it. How much 
 she desired to go in and to get other cards like 
 the one she had lost that day in the depths of 
 Lake Cayuga! If she didn't have this urgent er-
 
 Dr. John Has a Visitor 67 
 
 rand, she'd slide in the side door and sit through 
 the meeting. 
 
 Just then some one touched her, and she turned 
 swiftly. There grinning down upon her was her 
 father, and his hand fell in a heavy grip on her 
 arm. Tonnibel gasped for breath, tried to jerk 
 herself away and swallowed hard. 
 
 "What you doin' up here, miss?" Devon said 
 grimly. "You come along home. I'm goin' to 
 settle up a score with you, you damned brat." 
 
 Tonnibel thought quickly. To go back with 
 him meant a beating for her, and worse than that, 
 suffering for her beloved mother. 
 
 He was pulling at her with all his might and 
 main. 
 
 "Wait, daddy," she quavered, almost under her 
 breath. "Wait, till I tell you something!" 
 
 Uriah's hand loosened its hold on her. He 
 glanced furtively about, but no one was paying 
 any attention to them. 
 
 "Come around by the side of the building here," 
 he said gruffly, taking hold of her again, "and 
 yap out what you want to tell me quick. I'm 
 done with foolin' with you, my lady."
 
 68 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 A little L-shaped addition to the Army rooms 
 stood back from the road, and in the shadow of 
 this Tonnibel looked up at her father. The pun- 
 gent breaths that came rapidly not only told her 
 he was drunk, but that he was in a fearful rage. 
 Just what she intended to tell him, she didn't 
 know then, but it had to be something to help 
 Edith. In tense silence she glanced at the open 
 window through which a light shone. Straight 
 across the meeting hall she caught a glimpse of 
 the precious words which that day had given her 
 into the rescuing arms of the pine tree. "Stand 
 still and see the Salvation This was as far 
 
 as she had read when Uriah gave her a cuff be- 
 side the ear. 
 
 "Take that, you sassy huzzy," he gritted. 
 "Now yap out what you got to say. Then come 
 along with me. This time I gad you till you 
 mind." 
 
 The blow almost knocked her down, but she 
 stood up as bravely as she could. 
 
 "Salvation's after 'you with both feet, Pop," 
 she gasped. "I forgot to tell you about it to-day. 
 Your lickin' Ede sent it plumb out of my mind."
 
 Dr. John Has a Visitor 69 
 
 Uriah staggered back. He hadn't understood, 
 and his limp figure gave Tonnibel courage. 
 
 "You'd best slide in the church," she ventured. 
 "It'll " 
 
 The man wheeled and took a hasty survey of 
 the street. 
 
 "How'd you know some one's after me, kid?" 
 he whined. "Mebbe they're waitin' back there 
 now for me." 
 
 "Mebbe!" was all Tonnibel said. 
 
 How brave she'd grown out of the words that 
 had suddenly reduced her brutal father to a cring- 
 ing suppliant! Then before she could speak 
 again, she saw him whirl away, and she lost sight 
 of him in the darkness. For a few moments she 
 stood with a longing tugging at her heart. She 
 glanced up at the window, and a vague desire to 
 crawl through it overwhelmed her. By placing 
 her toes against the clapboards and catching hold 
 of the window-sill, she raised herself gently up, 
 and peeped into the room. If she had dared to 
 thrust her arm inside, she could have touched 
 Philip MacCauley. He was sitting alone in deep
 
 70 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 revery. His face was directly opposite hers, and 
 at that moment he looked straight at her. 
 
 "The Salvation of the Lord got lost in the 
 lake," she hissed at him, and then she dropped 
 down and by the time the young Captain had 
 crossed the mission hall and was out of doors, the 
 girl was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 That evening, just after dinner, Dr. John 
 Pendlehaven was sitting in his office, his mind dis- 
 turbed, his heart aching. He was but waiting un- 
 til his business hours were over to go to his brother 
 Paul, who for two or three days past had been 
 failing rapidly. It seemed to him that never in 
 all the last fifteen years had he so thoroughly hurt 
 through and through as he did at this hour. In a 
 way he blamed himself for Reginald's actions, 
 for hadn't he known always that Sarah upheld 
 her son in his lax conduct? Hadn't he more than 
 once wanted to interfere and take a firm hold of 
 the lad from a man's standpoint 1 ? 
 
 The boy was a thief, a petty thief too! Not 
 that the things he took were of such monetary 
 value, but when he had accused Reginald of theft 
 just before dinner, the lad had laughed away his
 
 Dr. John Has a Visitor 71 
 
 crime as if it amounted to little. His heart ached 
 for the sick brother upstairs, and he remembered 
 that the first three or four years after the disap- 
 pearance of Paul's daughter had been spent in a 
 frantic search. A small fortune had been spread 
 from Maine to California, and every clew present- 
 ed had been followed up. All those working on 
 the case had decided that Edith Mindil, a young 
 nurse who had cared for the child most of the 
 time since her mother had died and was devoted 
 to her, had left home with the baby. 
 
 He sat up suddenly, for distinctly there came 
 to him from the wide front porch the patter of 
 feet like the soft footpads of some stealthy night- 
 animal. He turned his eyes on the open door that 
 led to the porch and then he rose. There be- 
 fore him stood a girl, a silent girl looking at him 
 beseechingly a curious demanding expression in 
 her eyes, and she was barefooted too. He didn't 
 speak, nor did he move forward. She was not a 
 patient, that he knew, for only the rich came to 
 him for treatment. 
 
 She was still studying his face with bright gray 
 eyes, and how very lovely she was. In spite of
 
 72 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pints 
 
 her queer attire, she seemed to the astonished man 
 a vision, just a girlish thought which perhaps he 
 had drawn out of his misery. Over her shoulders 
 hung a mass of long dark curls, and he could see 
 they glistened, shining there in the light, like so 
 many twisted jewels. 
 
 Then suddenly she smiled and took two steps 
 toward him. 'Twas the smile that decided him, 
 she was human. And, "Good evening," he man- 
 aged to say. 
 
 "Paul Pendlehaven *?" came in a breath, and 
 Dr. John shook his head. 
 
 "Oh! I hoped you were!" was the swift reply. 
 "I want to see the doctor." 
 
 The voice was filled with touching pathos, and 
 the young face had grown suddenly grave. 
 
 "I'm one Dr. Pendlehaven," he said. "Won't 
 you sit down?" 
 
 Tonnibel shook her head. She couldn't sit 
 down in all this royal splendor, she who had been 
 used to canal boats and rough benches to sit on. 
 
 "I'm kinda mussed up," she said in excuse. 
 "I've come to make a dicker with with Dr. 
 Paul Pendlehaven."
 
 Dr. John Has a Visitor 73 
 
 Pendlehaven stared at her. What a queer little 
 girl she was, and yet he felt a swiftly-come in- 
 terest in her. 
 
 "Tell me what you want of my brother 1 ?" he 
 said gently. "Do you want him to help you?" 
 
 "Yep, a hull lot," she responded, "a great lot. 
 My mother's awful sick. But I can't tell how she 
 got that way, so don't ask me. But but 1 
 thought mebbe if I brought Doctor Paul's baby 
 back She paused, drew out of her blouse 
 
 the picture and handed it out, "I thought if I 
 didn't take any money for it, he'd help me, and 
 mebbe wouldn't make me tell where I got it." 
 
 John Pendlehaven made no move to touch the 
 little card she was holding out to him, and Ton- 
 nibel came nearer. 
 
 "Don't he want it*?" she queried apprehensively, 
 "huh 1 ? It says on the back he'd give money for 
 it, but I wouldn't take money. If mummy hadn't 
 been awful sick, I'd a give it to him for nothing." 
 
 Then her fingers let go their hold on the picture, 
 and it fell to the floor. And there before the 
 startled man's eyes, she dropped down and began 
 to sob, long bitter sobs such as John Pendlehaven
 
 74 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pities 
 
 had never heard from any of his own women kind. 
 
 "I want some one to help my mummy so bad,'* 
 came to him from among the curls. 
 
 Then he shook himself, deep sympathy striking 
 at him. 
 
 "Child," he broke out. "Pretty little child, 
 don't cry." 
 
 He bent over her and lifted her to her feet. 
 
 "Listen to me, my dear; you've done my broth- 
 er the greatest favor in the world by bringing back 
 this picture." He stooped and picked it up. "He 
 loved it dearly, no money could have bought it." 
 
 Tonnibel's eyes, filled with tears, gazed up at 
 him, and the red lips trembled. 
 
 "I don't want money," she faltered. "But my 
 poor little mummy's sick. So I said to myself if 
 the picture was worth cash, then mebbe I could get 
 some medicine as a change off." 
 
 "We'll go to her instantly," said Pendlehaven. 
 "Wait until I get my hat and coat, and I'll tell 
 my brother you brought this to him." 
 
 In a few minutes he was back, finding her stand- 
 ing where he had left her. 
 
 Without a word they walked out into the night.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IN THE NIGHT 
 
 "Is it far we've got to go*?" Dr. John asked 
 some minutes later. "It's storming a little." 
 
 "Quite a ways," replied the girl, "but never 
 mind. A little rain won't hurt uther one of us." 
 
 As they passed the Salvation Army quarters 
 the girl turned her head and looked at it. But she 
 made no remark, and so rapidly did she walk that 
 Pendlehaven found himself taking long strides 
 to keep up with her. 
 
 To say he was surprised when they turned from 
 the Boulevard road to a path leading to the west 
 shore of the lake would be putting it lightly. But 
 he didn't ask again where they were going; some- 
 how it made no difference to him. 
 
 "You'd best take hold of my hand," exclaimed 
 Tony, coming to a full stop. "It's awful dark, 
 and after a while we're going down the hill. You 
 ain't afraid, are you, mister*?" 
 
 75
 
 76 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Not with you," replied Pendlehaven. Then 
 whimsically to himself he repeated, "And a little 
 Anld shall lead them." 
 
 On and on they went, hand in hand, through 
 the now tailing rain. Out beyond them Cayuga 
 Lake, like a huge black field, received the drops 
 of water on its quiet upturned face. 
 
 On each side of the path rose gigantic trees, 
 standing sentinel-like right and left. 
 
 Pendlehaven's strong warm hand held the small 
 brown one, and something in the touch of the 
 girl's fingers made him thrill w r ith pleasure. He 
 found himself vowing that anything this strange 
 child should ask of him, he'd do, no matter what 
 it might be. And wasn't he doing an unheard of 
 thing this very minute? Had he ever before in 
 all the years of his practice gone with a stranger 
 without one of his men with him or being carried 
 in his own carriage or car? 
 
 Yet he was glad he had come ! Glad to get away 
 from his office, glad to be in the dark world of 
 rain and lake and forest with a child of the wil- 
 derness ! They passed over a culvert through 
 ;vhioh water, in tumbling roars, took its way down
 
 In the Night 77 
 
 the hill. Just on the north side the girl stopped, 
 
 "Hang to me tight," she said in a low voice. 
 "We're goin' down a awful steep place, and I 
 don't want to lose you." 
 
 A sudden desire to laugh aloud swept over Dr. 
 Pendlehaven. Again the words, "A little child 
 shall lead them," swam across his mental vis- 
 ion. 
 
 "I won't let nothin' hurt you, mister," Tony 
 assured him, and his only response was a tighten- 
 ing of the hand he held. 
 
 "It's kind of ragged down in here," she ex- 
 plained presently. "But just come along. Ghosts 
 don't roam in the rain like this. Somehow they'd 
 ruther stay buried when the moon ain't out." 
 
 She said it simply, naturally as if she believed 
 every word of it. 
 
 "Here we are to the ragged rocks," she said 
 finally, coming to a sudden stop. "There's the 
 boat where my mummy is. See that little light ? 
 Stand here a minute till I come back and get you." 
 
 It had suddenly occurred to Tonnibel that per- 
 haps her father might have ventured home. If
 
 78 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 so, then she must prepare him for the doctor's 
 coming. 
 
 She slipped away through the darkness, and 
 Pendlehaven, standing under the black sky, heard 
 her patter across the deck of the boat, and through 
 the faint little light that shone up from the cabin, 
 he saw her disappear down the steps. 
 
 Tonnibel went immediately to her mother and 
 looked down upon her. The swollen lids were 
 still closed, and the wan white face brought a rush 
 of tears to the girl's eyes. 
 
 "I've brung some one to help you, darlin'," 
 she whispered, but the woman made no move, if 
 by chance she heard. 
 
 Tonnibel glanced about the cabin. There, 
 spread out on the table, were the clothes she knew 
 belonged to the household of the man standing 
 waiting on the ragged rocks. Uriah had been 
 mixed up in the theft, and perhaps her darling on 
 the bed there. But of one thing she was certain. 
 If Edith had ever stolen, then daddy had made 
 her do it. 
 
 Hastily gathering the suits up, she dumped 
 them into the little back room and closed the
 
 In the Night 79 
 
 door. Then clambering up the steps, she was 
 back at the doctor's side before he scarcely real- 
 ized it. 
 
 "Mummy's alone," she said. "Come on." 
 
 Pendlehaven stooped over Edith Devon, gently 
 taking her wrist in his fingers. For some time he 
 sat beside her, then mixing a draught, succeeded 
 in pouring it down her throat. The weary lids 
 didn't lift, but one thin arm came rigidly upward 
 then fell back limply. 
 
 "She's going to be all right in a little while," 
 whispered the medical man, looking at the silent, 
 wide-eyed girl. Tonnibel's lips trembled, and 
 she tried to smile. 
 
 "Some one struck her, eh*?" asked the doctor. 
 
 "Yep," replied the girl, and that was all. 
 
 Pendlehaven didn't ask anything more. In 
 accepting the picture he had tacitly promised not 
 to question her. What did it matter to him how 
 the woman had come into her present condition? 
 He would do his utmost, his very best for the sake 
 of the trembling child who had brought back the 
 baby's picture which might bring a new desire to 
 live in his brother, Paul.
 
 80 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Come outside," he said at length, rising. "I 
 want to talk to you. She'll sleep a long time, 
 perhaps until morning." 
 
 "She'll get well, huh?" demanded Tonnibel, in 
 a whisper. 
 
 "Surely," he responded. "Of course. She's 
 very tired, I think." 
 
 "Oh, she's tired all right," was the choking 
 reply. "Her life's been full of tiredness. Poor 
 little mummy, poor little pretty mummy!" 
 
 For the life of him, John Pendlehaven could 
 not have uttered a word as he watched the tears 
 roll down the girl's cheeks. Then: 
 
 "Who hurt her*?" he said, sharply, forgetting 
 his resolve not to ask questions. 
 
 Tonnibel hesitated and remembered her wicked 
 father, Edith's mad affection for him and shook 
 her head. 
 
 "Lovin's hurt *er," she replied simply, "just 
 lovin's, mister. When a woman loves like she 
 does," she made a gesture with her hand toward 
 the bunk "she always gets hurt." 
 
 Pendlehaven took in a deep breath. Such a 
 hard lesson for one so young to have learned ! He
 
 In the Night 81 
 
 turned abruptly and walked up the steps, his heart 
 gripped with the profoundest sympathy he had 
 ever known. 
 
 Standing in the rain outside, looking down 
 upon the expectant upturned face, he said bro- 
 kenly : 
 
 "I can't leave you alone with her, dear child. 
 I think I'll stay." 
 
 The thought of her father coming home drunk 
 flashed across the girl's mind again. 
 
 "I don't want you to stay if she's all right," 
 she said with a backward bend of her head. "You 
 said she'd get well, didn't you 1 ?" At the doctor's 
 affirmative nod she went on "Then I'll take you 
 back up the hill, so you'll be safe." 
 
 "No," said Pendlehaven, firmly. "No, I won't 
 let you. I can find my way all right, but I can't 
 leave you like this." 
 
 "Mummy and me's been alone lots of times, 
 days and nights, for weeks," she answered. "I'm 
 never afraid where there's trees to talk to you, 
 and little birds sleepin' in 'em." She made a 
 sweep with her hand toward the forest, "And the
 
 82 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 lake's here too. You can't never be alone in a 
 place like this." 
 
 "Then I'll go," said Dr. John, almost rough- 
 ly. His nerves were keyed to a breaking point. 
 
 Tonnibel extended her hand. 
 
 "I said I was going with you, she answered 
 crisply. "I know every inch of the woods, an' 
 you'd be stumblin' round till morning. I just 
 want to thank you for helpin' my mother. Come 
 on, it'll be all hours before you get home now." 
 
 Back over the ragged rocks they went, and as 
 they climbed the hill, Pendlehaven suddenly real- 
 ized that she was crying. 
 
 He stopped short in the path. 
 
 "I refuse to go home," he said sharply. "God, 
 child, but I've got a heart in my body." 
 
 She didn't answer him but tugged at his hand, 
 drawing him onward. After a few moments she 
 broke out: 
 
 "I ain't sayin' I wouldn't love to have you in 
 the 'Dirty Mary' with mummy and me, but you 
 might get killed if you stay." 
 
 "And what about you 1 ?" demanded Pendle- 
 haven.
 
 In the Night 83 
 
 "Oh, I'm used to it," she responded. "Some- 
 body might give me a swat or two on my bean, but 
 that won't count for nothin' !" 
 
 When they reached the Boulevard, he dropped 
 her hand. 
 
 "Now go back," he said gently, "I can find my 
 way. Will you come to-morrow at two, and let 
 me know how she is*? Or shall I come down 1 ?" 
 
 "I'll hike to you," answered Tonnibel. "If 
 you're sure now you won't get lost, I'll run back 
 to mummy. "But " 
 
 "I shall get home perfectly safe, child," came in 
 quick interruption, and "Good-night. Thank you 
 for bringing me the picture and allowing me to 
 come to your mother." 
 
 Tonnibel turned swiftly; and in another minute 
 he heard her running away, and mingling with 
 the breaking of twigs, he heard a sound of violent 
 weeping. For an instant he felt impelled to run 
 after her. Then, sighing, he turned his collar up 
 more closely about his neck and walked on toward 
 Ithaca,
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 "TONY" SWEARS AN OATH 
 
 WHEN Tonnibel bent over the bunk, she saw 
 her mother's eyes were open. She smiled sadly 
 down upon her, sat on a stool and took one of the 
 woman's thin hands in hers. 
 
 "Where's your daddy?" murmured Mrs. 
 Devon. 
 
 "He's gone, mummy dear," breathed Tony. "I 
 guess he thought some one was after him. He'll 
 stay away a while, I guess, mebbe till you get 
 all well." 
 
 "What time is it?" 
 
 "Gettin 5 near the middle of the night! And 
 you're feelin' a lot better, huh, honey 1 ?" 
 
 "Yep, but I'm thirsty, awful thirsty, baby 
 dear." 
 
 Tonnibel gave her a drink, and reseated herself. 
 
 "You're goin' to get well," she ejaculated. "I 
 8 4
 
 "Tony" Stvears An Oath 85 
 
 brought a awful nice doctor here when you were 
 so sick. He's just gone, and he left you them 
 pills and that medicine in the glass." 
 
 The woman stared at the speaker as if she 
 hadn't heard rightly. 
 
 "A doctor?" she whined. "What doctor?" 
 
 "Dr. Pendlehaven," replied Tonnibel. "He's 
 a real nice man John Pendlehaven." 
 
 Edith struggled up on her elbow. 
 
 "What'd you bring him here for?" she cried. 
 "I hate the Pendlehavens. Uriah hates 'em " 
 
 "I know that, mummy," Tony cut her off with, 
 "but you was too sick to tell me what to do, and 
 daddy wasn't here, so I just went and got the 
 doctor myself. . . . Here ! You mustn't sit up." 
 
 "I will ! I will ! Now tell me all he said from 
 the beginning to end." 
 
 In silence Tonnibel helped her mother to a sit- 
 ting position and wrapped the blankets around 
 her. Then she began to tell her what had hap- 
 pened. The only thing she omitted speaking of 
 was the baby's picture. 
 
 "He were the only doctor I knew about," she 
 offered finally, flushing, "and he's the beautiful-
 
 86 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 est man I ever saw. Mebbe he'll come down to- 
 morrow to see you." 
 
 Edith dropped back on the bed, shivering in 
 desperation. 
 
 "Get your clothes off, baby," she whispered. 
 "Crawl in beside me. You're all wet." 
 
 "Take your medicine first, then I will," said 
 
 Tonnibel. "Here She picked up the glass 
 
 and then stood staring at the place she'd taken it 
 from. "Why the doctor must have left this mon- 
 ey," she exclaimed, taking up a roll of bills. 
 "Look, Edie, look!" 
 
 "Get off your clothes," repeated the woman, 
 impassively. "Come on to bed, and go to sleep." 
 
 In another moment the girl had stripped off her 
 wet clothes, had blown out the light and was 
 in bed beside her mother. Edith drew her gently 
 into her arms. 
 
 "Tony," she muttered after a long silence, 
 "make your mummy a promise, will you?" 
 
 "Yep," breathed Tonnibel, sleepily. "What?" 
 
 "Never tell any one in the world about Uriah's 
 cussedness. Could you remember to keep your 
 ,mouth shut when folks asks questions'?"
 
 "Tony" Swears 'An Oath 87 
 
 "Cross my heart, hope to drop down dead in a 
 fit if I tell," murmured Tonnibel. 
 
 When Edith was assured the girl slept, she 
 crawled out of the bed and lighted the lamp. Her 
 head was so dizzy the objects in the cabin spun 
 around as if she had been drinking. She tried to 
 collect her thoughts, to lay a plan for the future 
 for herself and husband. John Pendlehaven had 
 been there! Pendlehaven, the one name in the 
 world she dreaded the mention of ! And Tony had 
 said he would come back to-morrow ! 
 
 She turned and looked at the sleeping face, 
 half-hidden in the blankets. She had stolen this 
 child from her father, and now she had to escape 
 the consequences of her wicked deed. She had 
 to go away and that quickly. If she had dared 
 to face her husband's wrath, she would have, then 
 and there, communicated with Paul Pendlehaven. 
 
 She reached out and touched Tonnibel's face. 
 
 "Baby, darlin', wake up," she said. "I want 
 to ask you something!" 
 
 Tony opened her slumber-laden eyes and 
 smiled. 
 
 "Don't go to sleep again," exclaimed Mrs. De-
 
 88 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 von, hoarsely. "Tell me this. Do you honest be- 
 lieve what you said about that thing on the card*? 
 About it bein' holy*?" 
 
 "Yep," assented Tony, with drooping eyelids. 
 
 "I guess you'd rather snooze a bit than help 
 your mummy," mourned the woman, drearily. 
 
 These words sent the desire to sleep directly 
 from the girl's brain. 
 
 "No, I wouldn't," she responded with a quick 
 motion. "What I said was true! A beautiful 
 man told me 'twas. He says the Salvation 
 Army's found a God for poor folks, for folks liv- 
 in' in canal boats and squatters too. Why, mum- 
 my love, when I went scootin' after the doctor. I 
 said over and over to Salvation to come slamming 
 in this boat and pull you right off that bunk. 
 And it done it, huh?" 
 
 "Mebbe," was the dubious reply. "But I was 
 thinkin' this. You don't want to hurt Uriah and 
 me, do you, honey?" 
 
 The girl shook her head slowly, and a doubtful 
 shadow settling in her eyes, seemed to make her 
 wider awake. 
 
 "I wouldn't hurt you, darlin'," she replied at
 
 "Tony" Swears 'An Oath 89 
 
 length, "but sometimes, when daddy's beatin' 
 you, I feel like whackin' the life out of him. Why, 
 to-day " 
 
 Edith stopped her by a tug at her sleeve. 
 
 "If you swore by that card you brought, I mean 
 if you took an oath, would you keep it*?" she 
 asked hoarsely. 
 
 "You bet I would." There was amazement, 
 surprise and eagerness in the young voice. 
 
 "Then get it," came the husky command. 
 
 Tonnibel shook her head. 
 
 "I can't," she replied, "I lost it." 
 
 "Never mind then ! Didn't you tell me the 
 feller said Jesus was a holy bird*?" 
 
 Tony nodded. 
 
 Mrs. Devon gripped her fingers about the girl's 
 arm. 
 
 "Hold a minute," she interrupted. "You be- 
 lieve, honest you believe, Tonnibel, this Jesus is 
 a livin' somewheres, don't you 1 ? Didn't you say 
 that?' 
 
 "Sure," yawned Tonnibel. 
 
 "Mebbe He's in the 'Dirty Mary' here, only 
 you can't see Him, baby dear*?" The woman's
 
 90 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 voice was slyly toned, but she shivered in super- 
 stition. 
 
 "He's right here," affirmed the girl, thinking 
 of a boy's earnest uplifted face and vibrant assur- 
 ances. 
 
 "Then say after me what I'm thinkin' of," said 
 Edith. 
 
 Tony lifted her eyes to her mother's, but drew 
 back when she discovered how terrible she looked, 
 white like a dead person. 
 
 "I swear by the livin' Jesus," began Edith, and 
 then she paused. "Say it," she hissed. 
 
 "I swear by the livin' Jesus," Tony repeated 
 fearfully. 
 
 "I swear to my mummy never to say nothin' 
 mean against Uriah Devon, my daddy," went on 
 Mrs. Devon. 
 
 Tony repeated this, too, almost frightened into 
 fits. She had never seen her mother look and act 
 so mysteriously. 
 
 "Now say this, keepin' in your mind you'll be 
 blasted to hell if you break your word, T won't 
 never tell that my father beat my poor mummy, 
 or that he's a thief and a liar 1 " A thick tear-
 
 "Tony" Swears 'An Oath 91 
 
 less sob burst from the woman's lips and brought 
 an ejaculation from the girl. 
 
 "I swear to it all, honey mummy," she cried. 
 "You believe me, Edie, darlin', don't you?" 
 
 "Yes, I believe you," replied Edith, dully. 
 "Crawl into bed, and go to sleep, baby dear." 
 
 Shiveringly Tony Devon got back under the 
 blanket. "Comin' in too, darlin"?" she queried. 
 
 "Mebbe, after a while," replied Mrs. Devon. 
 "I'll wait a bit. Perhaps, your daddy'll come." 
 
 Then for more than an hour there was silence 
 on the canal boat, silence that was broken only 
 by the night noises outside. 
 
 Then, extremely weak, the woman prepared 
 herself to go out. During the slowness of her 
 movements, she brought out of her distracted 
 memories of other days, John Pendlehaven's 
 stern, haughty face and his devotion to his broth- 
 er, Paul, and in remembering, she shuddered and 
 had to sit down before going on with her prepara- 
 tions for departure. It took her a long time to 
 write a note she had to leave for Tony, and when 
 that was finished, she divided the money the doc- 
 tor had left and stole softly from the boat.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 "ALL ALONE!" 
 
 IT was In the full blaze of a morning sun that 
 Tonnibel opened her eyes and looked around the 
 cabin. For some time she lay drowsily bringing 
 out of yesterday her father, her mother, and 
 the young man who kicked his heels together. 
 When all the events of the gruesome afternoon 
 and evening had been sorted over, she got hastily 
 out of bed. The other bunk was empty, and her 
 mother was not in the cabin. In her night clothes, 
 Tonnibel went to the deck, shouting the name, 
 "Edith," her strong young voice repeating itselt 
 back from the woods in echoes. Then she went 
 downstairs again and began to dress hastily, and 
 every moment her fear was growing. She soon 
 discovered her mother's clothes were gone also 
 her heavy shoes which had been under the bunk. 
 Then she spied the note pinned to the lamp han- 
 dle. She stared at it mutely as if dreading to 
 
 92
 
 'All Alont!" 93 
 
 know its contents, but she unpinned it with fingers 
 that seemed to be all thumbs. Her legs were 
 shaking so she had to sit down to read it. 
 
 "Tony dear:" it began. 
 
 "I'm going to look up Uriah. I took part of 
 the money. We might need some. You can go 
 to work somewheres if I don't come back. Maybe 
 some day you'll see me. Leave the boat where 
 she is so your daddy can find her. I love you, 
 darling. Remember about your swearing not to 
 tell on your Pop, and don't tell I'm gone to find 
 
 him. 
 
 "MuMMY." 
 
 Tonnibel gave a gasping sob. They had all 
 gone and left her stranded in a land of strangers. 
 Because it was no longer her home, she began to 
 love the silent old canal boat, and to wish with 
 all her soul that Uriah and Edith would come 
 walking down the cabin steps. Mechanically she 
 began to prepare herself some breakfast, and for 
 the first time in many moons, she sat down with 
 Gussie at her side to eat the butterless bread and 
 drink the unsweetened coffee.
 
 94 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 After she had finished, she went out on deck 
 and sat down with the piglet in her arms. 
 
 "There ain't nobody left but you and me, 
 honey," she whispered, "but I'm glad I got you 
 anyway." 
 
 For a long time she sat thinking, looking out 
 over the water, sometimes with tears flooding her 
 lids, sometimes dry-eyed with fright. After a 
 while she got up, took Gussie to the lake, where, 
 much to the little animal's disgust, she washed 
 her with a scrubbing brush and soap. Her heart 
 ached for the little creature as much as it did 
 for herself, and Gussie's little squeals met answer- 
 ing sobs from the lonely, homesick girl. 
 
 "It's hard luck, darlin'," she murmured, pick- 
 ing up the pig and kissing it. "But you got to 
 go w r ith me to the beautiful doctor's house, and 
 you can't go with a dirty face. I wouldn't leave 
 you here alone for all the boodle in Ithaca." 
 
 Then she carefully washed herself, letting her 
 feet and legs hang over the end of the dock until 
 they, too, were as clean as her little friend. 
 
 It was while she was sitting there with the pig 
 in her arms that a canoe slipped under the over-
 
 "All Alone!" 95 
 
 hanging trees and came toward the canal boat 
 swiftly. She watched it coming with no show of 
 interest. Directly in front of her the paddle re- 
 mained suspended, and the boat came to a stop. 
 Tonnibel's heart thumped, then seemed to fall 
 to the pit of her stomach. Here, right before her, 
 was the Salvation man. 
 
 "How do you do?" he said, smiling at her. "I 
 see you're having a nice time." 
 
 Tonnibel shook her head. 
 
 "No, I ain't, and Gussie ain't either," she re- 
 plied almost sullenly. "I'm only gettin' all 
 shinied up. The piglet's as clean as a whistle, the 
 same as me." 
 
 By a skillful twist of the paddle, Philip Mac- 
 Cauley drew the canoe close to the dock. 
 
 "He's prettier than he was night before last," 
 he said lamely. 
 
 He had come from Ithaca purposely to find this 
 girl, as he had yesterday, but now he was in her 
 presence, he could think of nothing to say. 
 
 "He's a she," Tony told him with no hint of a 
 smile. "Gussie's her name. Yep, she's beauti- 
 ful."
 
 9G The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Is this the boat you told me you lived on 4 ?" he 
 asked, climbing up beside her and holding the ca- 
 noe fast by a rope. 
 
 "Yes, the 'Dirty Mary,' " answered Tonnibel, 
 with a little catch in her voice. "Now I live on 
 her, I mean to-day." 
 
 "What do you mean by 'now you live on 
 her?' " he asked. "Isn't this your home? Didn't 
 you tell me that?" 
 
 The girl's dark head drooped, and the shower 
 of curls almost covered Gussie to her short hind 
 legs. Tears dropped silently, and, for a moment, 
 Philip was too embarrassed to .speak. 
 
 "Don't do that," he burst out, when he couldn't 
 stand it any longer. "I can't bear to see a girl 
 cry." 
 
 "I can't help it," sobbed Tonnibel. "I guess 
 I'm just lonely, that's all." 
 
 Philip touched her gently. 
 
 "Where's your mother?" he questioned. 
 
 She lifted her head and looked at him through 
 her tears. She wanted to confide in some one 
 yes, she did want to tell him, but the onth ?h"'d 
 taken on the gentle Christ flashed into her mind.
 
 "All Alone!" 97 
 
 "She ain't home just at present," she replied 
 in a low voice. 
 
 "Can't you tell me why you're crying?" urged 
 Philip. 
 
 "Nope, can't tell anybody," came back the 
 sobbing murmur. "But I'm awful glad you 
 stopped here. Gussie and me was awful lone- 
 some." 
 
 Oh, how she wanted to ask him if he knew of 
 any work she could do ! 
 
 As if he had read her thoughts, he asked ab- 
 ruptly, "Can I do anything for you'? Why didn't 
 you come in last evening? I went out to find 
 you ! I brought you this." 
 
 She made a slight movement with her head but 
 accepted the card he extended. 
 
 "I had something to do yesterday night, so I 
 couldn't stop," she answered, blushing. "Meb- 
 be I will come some day. I'd like to." 
 
 Then there drifted over the quiet summer day 
 the tolling of the chimes from the University 
 clock on the Campus of Cornell. She bent for- 
 ward to listen. It struck one, and drawing her 
 feet from the water, she got up. She had prom-
 
 98 The Shauotv of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 ised to be at Pendlehaven Place at two o'clock. 
 
 "I got to go now," she said apologetically. 
 "Much obliged for bringing me some more salva- 
 tion, mister! Mebbe I'll see you again some- 
 time. Mebbe I will." 
 
 "When?" demanded Philip, the blood running 
 swiftly to his face. He felt a sudden renewed 
 interest in the solemn little girl, and he didn't 
 want her to leave him at all. 
 
 "I dunno," she answered, putting Gussie under 
 one arm. "I mightn't be home when you come." 
 
 "But say some time ! What about to-morrow"? 
 Say four o'clock to-morrow afternoon. To-mor- 
 row's Sunday. Will you be here then 1 ?" 
 
 How did she know where she'd be to-morrow? 
 How could she see across the span of hours that 
 lay between her and the dawning of another day? 
 Perhaps, Edith would bring Uriah home to the 
 boat before then; perhaps she wouldn't have to 
 go away to find work after all. 
 
 "Can I come to-morrow?" the boy urged once 
 more. 
 
 "Yep, you can come," said Tonnibel, with fill-
 
 "All Alone!" 99 
 
 ing throat, "but if there's any one around, don't 
 stop." 
 
 This was all the warning she dared give him. 
 Then she paused long enough to see him jump 
 into the canoe, and for a few minutes she stood 
 watching the craft as it danced away on the wa- 
 ter toward Ithaca.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 TONY FINDS A NEW HOME 
 
 MANY a person turned in the street and looked 
 at the bareheaded and barefooted girl as she 
 made her way through the city with a little pig 
 snuggled in her arms. Tonnibel was hurrying to 
 Pendlehaven Place, for she had promised Dr. 
 John she'd come to his office at two o'clock that 
 afternoon, and, if she didn't, he might take it into 
 his head to visit the "Dirty Mary." 
 
 When she reached the house, it neyer occurred 
 to her to ring the bell, or to ask if she might see 
 the doctor. He had told her to come, and, as the 
 night before she had crept in without being an- 
 nounced, so now she tiptoed across the stone porch 
 and stepped into his office. There was no one 
 there when she entered; so she stood holding Gus- 
 sie tightly, scarcely daring to breathe. But be- 
 yond in the other room she heard the sound of 
 voices. The deep tones of the doctor came dis- 
 
 IOO
 
 Tony Finds a New Home 101 
 
 tinctly to her. She had not moved from the door 
 when John Pendlehaven came in and saw her. 
 Instantly he noted how pale she was. 
 
 "Your mother," he began 
 
 "She's gone away visitin'," gasped Tony. "I 
 don't know where she is." 
 
 Her embarrassed manner indicated she was 
 keeping something from him. Going nearer her, 
 he asked: 
 
 "Didn't you see her this morning'? If she was 
 able to get up, then she's better. Isn't she*? Is 
 she?" 
 
 Tonnibel bobbed her head. 
 
 "I guess so," she mumbled. "When I woke 
 
 up, she was gone. I guess she went to find " 
 
 She hesitated, then ran on, "to see some one we 
 know. So me and Gussie come to tell you she's 
 better." 
 
 "Sit down," urged the doctor. "To-day you're 
 not a bit mussed up," and he smiled. 
 
 Again the curly head shook negatively. 
 
 "I got to go," she told him, swallowing hard. 
 "I just got to go." 
 
 Then as her homelessness pressed down upon
 
 102 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 her, she began to tremble, convulsive sobs shak- 
 ing her from head to foot. The doctor forced 
 her into a chair. 
 
 "There," he said sympathetically. "Now tell 
 me what has happened." 
 
 "I can't," came in a gasping sigh. "But mum- 
 my's gone away, mebbe forever, and I got to find 
 work. And and I don't know how." 
 
 The small worn face worked painfully as the 
 words came in stammers, and Tony lifted tear- 
 brimmed eyes to his. 
 
 "Work?" repeated Dr. Pendlehaven. "What 
 kind of work can you do, child?" 
 
 "I can fish, but I hate it," responded Tonnibel, 
 "and I can slam water on a floor too. Mummy 
 says my coffee tastes like dishwater, so I guess I 
 can't cook much. Oh, I don't know what I'm 
 ever goin' to do. Nobody' d have a brat like me." 
 
 Dr. Pendlehaven looked at her thoughtfully. 
 All through the night the wan face had haunted 
 him. 
 
 Suddenly Tonnibel put her hand into her 
 blouse. 
 
 "I brought back what's left of the money," she
 
 Tony Finds a New Home 103 
 
 said, holding it out. "Mummy took some. You 
 don't care about that, do you? She needed it 
 awful, mummy did! But I couldn't keep this be- 
 cause I dickered with you last night about the 
 picture, and you done your share. First I wasn't 
 goin' to say anything about it; then I says to 
 myself, says I, Tt'd be the same as stealin', and 
 he were a good man to make my mummy all 
 well/ " 
 
 "Keep it," exclaimed Dr. John, huskily. 
 
 "No," said Tonnibel. "I couldn't ever sleep 
 a wink if I did." And she thrust the roll of bills 
 into his hand, giving a long sigh as if she were 
 glad to be rid of it. 
 
 It might have been this action on her part that 
 brought to quick fruition the resolve that had be- 
 gun to live the night before when Dr. Pendle- 
 haven had tramped along the Boulevard to 
 Ithaca. From what she had told him now, she 
 had been left alone. Then there was no one to 
 ask permission of to help her. 
 
 "Where's your father?" he said abruptly. 
 
 "I dunno," answered Tonnibel, a little sulkily.
 
 104 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 She didn't intend ever to speak of Uriah to any 
 one. 
 
 "Then you are all alone, now that your 
 mother's gone? Do I understand you haven't any 
 relatives'?" 
 
 "Not anybody," she hesitated, "at least, not 
 now. Not anybody but Gussie-Piglet here." 
 
 She touched the little animal with exquisite 
 tenderness. Dr. Pendlehaven leaned over and 
 placing one finger under the girl's chin raised her 
 face to his. 
 
 "Come with me," he said softly. 
 
 Tonnibel followed him through what seemed 
 to her long miles of halls. When he ushered her 
 into a room and closed the door, she stood a 
 moment taking in all its magnificence. The at- 
 mosphere was laden with a heavy perfume of 
 flowers, and then she saw something else. A man 
 lay partly propped up in bed, his burning gray 
 eyes staring at her. As ever in her life when help- 
 lessness appeared before her, Tony forgot her own 
 troubles, and a radiant smile came to her face 
 and stayed there. 
 
 "This is my brother, Paul Pendlehaven, my
 
 Tony Finds a New Home 105 
 
 child," said Dr. John. ''He wants to thank you 
 for bringing back the picture." 
 
 Tonnibel went directly forward, put Gussie 
 down on the bed, and clasped the extended hand 
 in hers. 
 
 "Oh, you're sick, huh?" she queried. "I'll 
 leave Gussie with you a while, if you want to 
 play with her." 
 
 She made the offer genuinely, her voice filled 
 with loving-kindness. Both men realized she was 
 giving her all. 
 
 "Sit down a while," murmured Dr. Paul. 
 
 She squatted unceremoniously upon the bed 
 beside the pig. 
 
 "Our little friend here is in trouble," said Dr. 
 John to his brother, "and wants work. I'll come 
 back after three." Then he went out. 
 
 For a long time Paul Pendlehaven looked at 
 Tony, and Tony looked back at him. Tony was 
 mentally pitying him with all her loving heart. 
 He was thinking over the conversation he and his 
 brother had had about this strange little girl who 
 had brought from a thief's den the picture of his 
 baby.
 
 106 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "How would you like to stay here a while 
 with me'?" he asked at length. 
 
 Gray eyes widened to the fullest extent of 
 fringed lids. 
 
 "Lordy," was all Tonnibel could say, as she 
 glanced around. 
 
 "You might wait on me," explained the doctor, 
 "and keep me company. I do get lonely some- 
 times. Would you like that*? I want you very 
 much." 
 
 "I'd eat my head off, sir," Tonnibel cut in with 
 a shake of her curls, "and Gussie eats a lot too. 
 I couldn't do enough to earn my salt." 
 
 "But I think you could," insisted the doctor, 
 smiling. "Now listen to me. I know you like 
 flowers." 
 
 "I love 'em," cried Tonnibel. 
 
 Pendlehaven smiled into the shining eyes. He 
 felt better already. 
 
 "I've such a lot of them all over this wing," 
 he went on. "You might take care of them for 
 me and and other things." 
 
 Tony was almost bursting with joy. She had 
 within her the greatest gift of God, supreme grat-
 
 Tony Finds a New Home 107 
 
 itude. To work for him would be bliss indeed. 
 She didn't want to cry, so to keep from it, she 
 bit down on her red underlip. He had said in 
 positive tones that he wanted her. It did seem 
 good to be wanted somewhere. What she did then 
 Pendlehaven remembered many a long day. She 
 bent over and kissed his hand. The warm red 
 lips thrilled him as vibrant youth always thrills 
 weakness. 
 
 "Can Gussie stay too?" she pleaded presently. 
 "She'd be without anybody if she didn't have 
 me." 
 
 "Yes," said Pendlehaven, as his brother 
 opened the door. "You can make her a nice home 
 in my conservatory." 
 
 It took but a moment for the sick man to 
 explain to Dr. John his arrangements with Tonni- 
 bel, and the girl's heart was not the only rejoic- 
 ing one among the trio.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A WOMAN'S HATRED 
 
 THE hardest part for Tonnibel came when she 
 had to face Mrs. Curtis. The lady looked her 
 over with cold haughty eyes, as Pendlehaven 
 made the introductions. 
 
 "She will be exclusively with Paul," said he, 
 "but I thought you could go with me this after- 
 noon to get her some clothes." 
 
 When Katherine Curtis came home late that 
 afternoon she found her mother in a towering 
 rage, surrounded by many strange looking boxes 
 and bundles. 
 
 "For heaven's sake what's the matter?" asked 
 the girl. 
 
 "I think your cousin John's gone mad," said 
 Mrs. Curtis, beginning to cry. 
 
 "But he's not mad over you, or you wouldn't 
 be squalling," retorted the girl, insolently. 
 
 108
 
 A Woman's Hatred 109 
 
 "Mother, I never saw anybody who can weep at 
 a word the way you can." 
 
 "You'll weep too when I tell you what's hap- 
 pened," sobbed the woman. 
 
 "Then tell me," and Katherine sank into a 
 chair. 
 
 "He's brought a ragged girl into the house to 
 stay," came from behind the handkerchief in ex- 
 planation, "a girl with bare feet, and enough hair 
 for three people. From what I could gather she's 
 going to stay over with Paul. And John insisted 
 on my going with him to buy these. Think of a 
 poor nobody dressed up like a horse." 
 
 With her foot she tumbled the boxes open. 
 
 "Cousin John's got good taste, I must say," 
 said the girl, enviously, as she picked up a deli- 
 cate frock. "Where is the creature?" 
 
 "Maria's got her in the bathroom giving her a 
 scrub," ejaculated Mrs. Curtis, "and she needed 
 it too." 
 
 Katherine looked at her keenly. 
 
 "I suppose you served Cousin John a deep- 
 seated spell of hysterics, didn't you, when he 
 popped the girl in on you?" she demanded.
 
 110 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "I did my best," admitted Mrs. Curtis, sniff- 
 ling. 
 
 "Men get surfeited to women's tears, mamma 
 darling," said the all-wise Katherine. "If I 
 wanted to make any impression on him, I'd leave 
 off howling every minute or two. And you don't 
 look pretty when your nose is red. Who is the 
 gutter rat?' 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know. She's got a queer 
 name, and I asked her about herself, and she 
 looked as sulky as could be." 
 
 "Leave it to me " began Katherine. 
 
 Just then the door swung open, and there ap- 
 peared before Katherine Curtis a girl who made 
 her breath almost stop with surprise. A very 
 young girl too, the gazer caught at a glance. Wide, 
 gray eyes fringed with long dark lashes looked 
 embarrassedly out upon her. Abundant curls 
 hung about one of the most beautiful faces Kath- 
 erine had ever seen. Her mother hadn't told her 
 the girl was so pretty. She felt a nervousness 
 come over her when she thought of Philip Mac- 
 Cauley. But then and there she determined that
 
 A Woman's Hatred 111 
 
 he should not see either the curls or the eyes if 
 she could help it. 
 
 In silence Tonnibel donned her new clothes, 
 and when she stood up to be inspected, Mrs. 
 Curtis scowled at her. 
 
 "Go show Dr. John," she said. "He told me 
 to send you right down to him." 
 
 Tonnibel was glad to escape. Katherine hadn't 
 said a word to her, but both girls had eyed each 
 Other appraisingly. Tonnibel decided the other 
 girl was cross looking, and Katherine suddenly 
 came to a resolution, which she made known to 
 her mother the moment they were alone. 
 
 "She can't stay in this house," she said between 
 her teeth. 
 
 Mrs. Curtis laughed sarcastically. 
 
 "See what you can do with your cousin, then," 
 she snapped. "I did my best with John, and he 
 positively refused to let me go to Paul ! As much 
 as told me it was none of my business." 
 
 "I won't cry when I talk to him," said the girl. 
 "I'll speak my mind outright. The very idea of 
 bringing her here. Why ! She's beautiful !" 
 
 "Now is she*?" asked Mrs. Curtis, wonderingly.
 
 112 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 J o 
 
 "I didn't notice that. I suppose I was too angry. 
 Anyway, I see no beauty in common people." 
 
 "She doesn't look common to me," replied 
 Katherine. "Mamma, have you got a cigarette'?" 
 
 Mrs. Curtis sniffled. 
 
 "I've told you over and over, Katherine, not to 
 smoke, if you want Philip," she said. "He heart- 
 ily disapproves of it. It's different with me," and 
 thus ending her admonition she lighted a cigarette 
 and took a deep inhaling breath. 
 
 "Why?" asked Katherine, getting up and help- 
 ing herself to the forbidden article. "Why is it 
 different?" 
 
 "Well, John smokes himself, so he doesn't 
 notice it," replied Mrs. Curtis. "Now Philip 
 doesn't. If he should ever try and kiss you and 
 smell " 
 
 The girl lighted the cigarette casually. 
 
 "I'll run the risk I think though," she thrust 
 in. "Damn it, I wish he'd say something worth 
 while, and not howl the salvation of souls at me 
 every time he comes." 
 
 "He might not like to hear you swear either,"
 
 A Woman's Hatred 113 
 
 remarked her mother, tartly. "Where you got 
 your manners from beats me." 
 
 "From you, beloved mother," returned Kath- 
 erine, rising. "Good-by, my sweet, and I hope 
 when I see you again to be able to tell you the 
 commoner is gone." 
 
 "Cousin, may I come in 9" asked Katherine, 
 opening the doctor's office door a little way. 
 
 "Certainly, child," invited Dr. John. "Any- 
 thing the matter'?" 
 
 Katherine took a hasty look around the room. 
 "Oh, I only wanted to talk to you. Are you 
 alone 4 ?" 
 
 "I am now at this moment," was the reply. 
 "Sit down! What do you think of Paul's pretty 
 protegee 1 ?" 
 
 The girl put on a bored look which, like her 
 mother's tears, made no impression on the medical 
 man. He brushed away a smile that forced itself 
 to his lips. 
 
 "She might be considered good looking by some 
 people," Katherine replied, "but, Cousin John, 
 neither mother nor I want her in the house. Why 
 do we have to have her 4 ?"
 
 114 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 It was such a bold question that an anirry 
 sparkle gleamed for a moment in the doctor's gray 
 eyes. 
 
 "Did you ever ask yourself whose house this 
 is, my dear Katherine *?" he demanded of her. 
 
 "Well, of course it's yours, and and Cousin 
 Paul's," replied the girl, "but mother and I 
 
 "Then if it's our house, can't we have any one 
 in it we want to?" 
 
 The question was put to her almost in a drawl. 
 Katherine arose hastily. 
 
 "I shouldn't think you'd want such a common 
 girl here," she said testily, and before the doctor 
 could answer, she had flounced out of the room. 
 
 She told her mother the hasty conversation in 
 a nutshell. 
 
 "I'll make the house too hot to hold her," she 
 announced as she left Mrs. Curtis in tears. "I 
 think I know how to put one over on our philan- 
 thropic cousins." 
 
 When Tonnibel came into the office that eve- 
 ning to ask a very important question of Dr. 
 Pendlehaven, he said to her : 
 
 "My dear, I want you always to remember
 
 A Woman's Hatred 115 
 
 what I am going to tell you now. This house 
 belongs to my brother and me. I do not wish you 
 to take orders from any one but us." 
 
 Tony gazed at him a moment, not understand- 
 ing at first. Then her lips widened. 
 
 "That means if any one says I've got to hike 
 back to the canal boat, I don't go unless one of 
 you tells me to," she demanded. "Is that it 1 ?" 
 
 The doctor laughed. 
 
 "Yes, that's it," said he. "Now what did you 
 want of me*?" 
 
 Tony considered him a few seconds. 
 
 "Can I go down the lake to-morrow after- 
 noon " she hesitated and then went on, "I 
 
 want to see if any one's home." 
 
 "Certainly, dear child, you can," was the 
 answer. "But get back before it's dark; I don't 
 want anything to happen to my little Tony girl."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE TRYST 
 
 THE next afternoon, Tony and Gussie Piglet 
 reached the canal boat at three o'clock. It was in 
 the same condition as when she had left it, with 
 no signs of her father or mother having been there. 
 She swiftly opened the little bundle she carried 
 and took out her old clothes. In a few minutes 
 she had taken off the pretty muslin dress, the new 
 shoes and stockings, and when she came out on 
 deck a few moments later, she was very much the 
 same looking girl who had left it the day before. 
 To the dock she went and sat down on the end of 
 it, letting her feet slip into the water. 
 
 There Philip MacCauley found her when he 
 canoed up at four o'clock. 
 
 "Don't you want to take a little ride?" he 
 asked laughingly. 
 
 Tonnibel glanced about. No human being was 
 in sight. The only sounds she heard were the 
 
 116
 
 The Tryst 117 
 
 lapping of the waves against the sides of the boat 
 and the twitterings of the birds in the trees. 
 
 "Can Gussie go too?" she hesitated in con- 
 fusion. 
 
 "Surely, both of you climb in," said the lad. 
 "There now sit quietly, and don't move about. 
 Shall we go down the lake 1 ?" 
 
 "Yep," replied Tonnibel. "Go anywhere. Oh, 
 ain't it lovely?" 
 
 How happy she would have been just then if 
 she could have looked through the space that 
 divided them and seen that her mother was safe 
 and well. But with the hopefulness of youth, she 
 cast aside her apprehension. Perhaps when she 
 came again Edith would be back on the boat. 
 
 She intended to come every day perhaps. 
 
 Philip MacCauley was looking at her quiz- 
 zically. 
 
 "What're you thinking about*?" he asked sud- 
 denly. 
 
 "Just about some one I like," replied the girl, 
 raising innocent eyes. 
 
 "Some boy?" he asked with a peculiar tone in 
 his voice.
 
 118 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Nope, just a woman," answered Tonnibel, 
 and that was all she said. 
 
 They slipped along the shore quietly as Philip 
 was thinking ot something else to say, something 
 that would not bring that tone of aloofness into 
 her voice, something out of his vast storehouse 
 of religious joy to take away the shadow in her 
 eyes and the droop from the childish mouth. 
 
 "You're very pretty," he said presently, al- 
 though it wasn't what he had meant to say at all. 
 
 Tony gasped at the beautiful words, and the 
 blood ran in swift waves to her temples. 
 
 "You needn't blush," said Philip, getting red 
 himself. "If you don't like me to say you're 
 pretty, I won't." 
 
 Like it! 
 
 "Why, I love it," she exclaimed childishly, and 
 Philip laughed again. 
 
 What a delightful, simple, natural girl she was. 
 He wished though that she had on shoes and 
 stockings, although he admitted to himself with 
 a slight thrill that her bare feet were very slen- 
 der and pretty. He wasn't the only one wishing 
 that wish. Tonnibel too desired with all her
 
 The Tryst 119 
 
 throbbing young heart that she had dared wear 
 her lovely clothes before this beautiful boy. But 
 for Edith's sake she could not let him know that 
 she had had to leave the boat. It was much more 
 difficult not answering him with his steady dark 
 eyes upon her than it was when Dr. Pendle- 
 haven had asked her questions. 
 
 "You're a funny little girl," Philip said after 
 a while with a chuckle. "How old are you?" 
 
 "Nearly half past sixteen," she answered 
 under her breath. "I'm awfully grown up now." 
 
 Philip decided that he liked very young girls 
 better than he did those of twenty or thereabouts. 
 Katherine was nearly twenty, and so were all the 
 girls he knew intimately. 
 
 "I've been thinking about you nearly all the 
 time since I saw you yesterday," he said pres- 
 ently. 
 
 "That's awful nice," sighed Tonnibel. "I been 
 thinking about you too. I've learned myself 
 what's wrote on the card you gave me." 
 
 "I'm glad!" Philip went on hurriedly, a lump 
 hopping into his throat. "I made up my mind 
 last night, I'd have a good talk with you to-day."
 
 120 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 He rested his paddle and leaned over toward her. 
 "I never saw a girl just like you before in all my 
 life! Have you ever been to school 1 ?" 
 
 His voice lowered on the last words. He didn't 
 want to offend her, but there were some things he 
 simply had to know. 
 
 "Well, mebbe not exactly to school," returned 
 Tonnibel, truthfully, "but I've studied and read 
 a lot. Then I've read newspapers. Why, when I 
 wasn't no bigger'n this Gussie Piglet, I could say 
 the A.B.C.'s faster'n anything." 
 
 She was growing more fascinating every 
 moment. How pretty she looked curled up in the 
 stern of the canoe, holding the sleeping pig to 
 her breast. 
 
 "I wish you could go to school right away," he 
 said earnestly. "Would would you let me see 
 about it?" 
 
 Tonnibel dropped her eyes and flushed. 
 
 "I got other things to do," she answered in a 
 low voice. "Schoolin's for rich girls like 
 like- 
 Down went the white teeth on her lip. She had 
 almost said, "like Miss Katherine."
 
 The Tryst 121 
 
 "Who for instance?" demanded the boy. 
 
 "Oh, just girls with lots of boodle," was the 
 reply. "Better go back now. I got to go some- 
 where." 
 
 "But to-morrow," flung in Philip. "May I 
 come again to-morrow?" 
 
 "You can paddle by the 'Dirty Mary,' " 
 
 answered Tony. "If I'm here " she smiled at 
 
 him, "then I'll be here, that's all." 
 
 "To-morrow then?" he said as she climbed out 
 on the dock. 
 
 "Yep, to-morrow," replied Tonnibel, and 
 Philip swiftly paddled away.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE PRODIGAL COMES HOME 
 
 AND so it happened as the spring advanced, 
 Tony Devon went to the canal boat day after 
 day to meet Philip MacCauley, but she had had 
 no chance to attend the Salvation Army services. 
 If she had not felt a little conscience stricken, 
 she could just as well have gone, but she had not 
 been courageous enough to speak of Captain Mac- 
 Cauley to her friends. Little by little Paul Pen- 
 dlehaven taught her, and little by little Tony's 
 salvation boy preached his lessons of Universal 
 Love to her; and the eager young mind drank in 
 the knowledge as a thirsty plant takes in water. 
 
 There were no signs of Uriah and Edith return- 
 ing, and Tonnibel grew daily more hopeless when 
 she thought of her mother. Perhaps she would 
 never see her again. She had strenuously refused 
 to speak of her people to Paul Pendlehaven, and 
 one morning when he was subtly trying to draw 
 
 122
 
 The Prodigal Comes Home 123 
 
 her past from her, she bent forward and centered 
 her steady gray eyes upon him. 
 
 "What if some time you'd swore on the Christ, 
 you wouldn't tell a thing*?" she burst forth. 
 
 "Then I wouldn't tell it," said Paul, promptly. 
 "But you do interest me so much, and one thing 
 is I'm always afraid somebody will come along 
 and take you away." 
 
 Tonnibel hugged Gussic up in her arms. 
 
 "No danger of that," she returned sadly. "I 
 guess there ain't anybody wantin' me but you. 
 Did you ever promise any one you wouldn't tell 
 about your baby the one you lost*?" 
 
 An expression of misery crossed Pendlehaven's 
 face. 
 
 "No, of course not," said he. "I, like you, have 
 lost my only beloved. My baby! It's so many 
 years now. I'm losing hope of ever finding her." 
 
 Tony touched his hand. 
 
 "I bet a nickel you will," she faltered. "Don't 
 you pray every night you'd get 'er*? And didn't 
 you tell me to always be wishin' it too"? Why! 
 Why, some day smack, bang, that kid'll flop right 
 down before your face. Then then " She
 
 324 The Shadow of 1lic Sheltering Pines 
 
 paused, lowered her head, and the man saw the 
 cri m5 nil blood rushing upward to lier cars. 
 
 "And tiu'nV he asked, deeply touched. 
 
 '"Then vou won't want me/' Tony trailed on. 
 Nobody will!" 
 
 Pendlehaven rose on his elbow and placed a 
 hand on her head. 
 
 "Ton}-, dear little girl," he said huskily, "no 
 one in the world can send you away from me. 
 Unless you go yourself 
 
 "Then I stay forever," gasped Tony, "and I'll 
 learn everything you want me to." 
 
 Dr. John noticed as the days passed how 
 much better his brother was looking, and no won- 
 der his own heart warmed hourly to the curly- 
 headed waif who had come among them so mys- 
 teriously. 
 
 Unknown to either of the doctors, Mrs. Curtis 
 .'and her daughter had been able to keep Tony 
 Devon from meeting Philip MacCauley in the 
 house. At first John Pendlehaven had insisted 
 that Tony attend the family table, but both Paul 
 and the girl decided that her meals should be 
 served in the sick room. Perhaps if Philip Mac-
 
 The Prodigal Comes Home 125 
 
 Cauley hadn't been so interested in a certain little 
 girl on a canal boat, his curiosity would have 
 taken him to Paul's apartments to make the 
 acquaintance of the little companion John Pen- 
 dlehaven had casually spoken of. 
 
 "She's a wonder, Phil," he said one evening; 
 "For the first time I've hopes of Paul's recovery." 
 
 "Good!" replied Philip, and immediately fell 
 into a re very. 
 
 One day, after an absence of two weeks, Reg- 
 inald Brown, haggard and half drunk, came home. 
 He took his place at the table, glad that Cousin 
 John had been called out before the dinner hour. 
 
 "We're so glad to have \ou back, sonny," said 
 Mrs, Curtis. Ct ft seems a year since you went 
 away." 
 
 Reggie gruntrcl and made no answer. 
 
 "And I suppose you've had a lovely time and 
 are ready to go back to school like a good boy," 
 flung in Katherlne, sarcastically. 
 
 "Mind your own affairs," snarled Reggie.. 
 "Anything new happened?" 
 
 "Nothing much," sighed Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 Reginald looked at her keenly.
 
 126 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "There has too," he contradicted. "I can tell 
 by the tone of your voice. Out with it." 
 
 "Mother's had twenty fits since you left," put 
 in Katherine. "Cousin Paul has a companion. A 
 companion, mind you ! Paul refuses to dress her 
 like a servant, and when Mamma said she had to 
 put up her hair and wear a cap both of our 
 
 beloved cousins chipped in. John said The 
 
 house is turned topsy turvy." 
 
 Reginald rubbed his brow. 
 
 "Don't clatter so much," he said dully. "My 
 head aches. What in hell do I care who comes to 
 this house 9 'Tain't mine!" 
 
 The subject was dropped immediately and for 
 a while mother and sister tried to draw from the 
 boy where he had been. But for most of the 
 time he did not answer their questions and ate 
 slowly in silence. 
 
 After dinner he followed his mother up to her 
 rooms, and when die door was closed, burst out 
 bluntly: 
 
 "Mater, I've got to have some money!" 
 
 Mrs. Curtis as usual began to cry. 
 
 "Reggie, my dear, I saw that in your face the
 
 The Prodigal Comes Home 127 
 
 moment you came in," she said, using her hand- 
 kerchief. "I haven't any money ! You know I 
 gave you all I had before you went away." 
 
 The boy sank down on a chair heavily. 
 
 "You've got to get me some," he muttered. 
 "Go to Cousin John for it. I've got to have it." 
 
 "What for?" Mrs. Curtis peeped at him from 
 her wet handkerchief. 
 
 "That's my business," snapped Reginald. "It's 
 up to you to get it for me, that's all ! You better 
 not make me mad!' : 
 
 "Not unless you tell me what you want it 
 for," and her tone was so decided that Reginald's 
 eyes lifted from his working fingers to her face. 
 Should he tell her the truth? 
 
 "Well, then it's this," he said. "I know a girl 
 who's got all kinds of money. Her father wants 
 me to marry her, but she's slipped away some- 
 where, not being overmuch enamored of your 
 son." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis kept her eyes on him searchingly. 
 
 "I tell you gospel truth," he went on. "We'd 
 be richer than Cousin John if I can carry out my 
 plans."
 
 128 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "But I don't want you to marry," whined Mrs. 
 Curtis. "If you'd " 
 
 "Don't preach," cried Reginald, getting up. 
 
 "I tell you, I've got to have money Think it 
 
 over, old lady, and get me five hundred by to- 
 morrow!" 
 
 "Five hundred !" gasped the woman. "Are 
 you mad, wild, crazy- 
 Reginald didn't wait to hear any more but 
 went off to his own room to rest. It was fully 
 two o'clock before the young man came down- 
 stairs the next day. 
 
 Katherine met him in the dining room. 
 
 "It's perfectly atrocious, Reggie," she said, 
 "how you hector mamma for money." 
 
 "Well, I need it in my business," retorted Reg- 
 gie. "Where is the old lady?" 
 
 His sister looked at him in disgust. 
 
 "She's sick in bed," she answered. "And you 
 made her so. She had such a spell of hysterics 
 that Cousin John ordered her to bed and said you 
 weren't to bother her until she's better." 
 
 With a curse Reginald flung himself out of the 
 room and a few minutes later left the house.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE FIGHT 
 
 TONNIBEL had reached the canal boat and 
 changed her clothes when suddenly she heard foot- 
 steps on the path beside the Hoghole. Her heart 
 almost leapt out of her mouth. Perhaps her 
 
 mother was coming home, perhaps her father 
 
 Tremblingly she peeped out through the aperture. 
 She drew back instantly. Reginald Brown was. 
 approaching the canal boat. She heard him cross, 
 the deck, and then the footsteps ceased. She 
 hoped with all her might and main that he 
 wouldn't think of coming downstairs. 
 
 But that was exactly what he did do. She 
 crouched up against the bunk, as the boy stepped 
 into the cabin. When he saw her a slow grin 
 spread over his thin face. 
 
 "So you're here," he got out thickly. "Where 
 have you been 4 ? I've visited this place three times 
 
 129
 
 130 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 in that many weeks. Where have you been, I 
 say?' 
 
 Tonnibel knew that he'd been drinking by the 
 way he tried to keep erect on his feet. 
 
 "Go away," she said, half frightened to death. 
 "You'd better get out of here before my mother 
 comes back. She'll beat you with the broom !" 
 
 "I'm not afraid of your father or mother," he 
 said tauntingly. "I know where they are." 
 
 The words sent Tonnibel forward a step. 
 
 "Honest?" she gasped. "Is it honest what you 
 say?' 
 
 "Certainly," replied the young man, "and they 
 told me to come here and get you." 
 
 "Where are they?" She had come very near 
 him now, her eyes gazing at him wistfully. 
 "Please tell me where my mummy is !" 
 
 "Nevermind just now," said he, his eyes taking 
 in her slight young figure passionately. "Here, I 
 want to kiss you." 
 
 He thrust out his hand and snatched her arm. 
 She wanted to run, to get away from the boat out 
 into the forest. Reggie read the thought that had
 
 The Fight 131 
 
 flashed through her mind, and he laughed boister- 
 ously. 
 
 "Nothing doing," he remarked. "Here!" 
 
 He dragged her forward until her slender 
 quivering body was pressed against his. He had 
 said he intended to kiss her. All the rebellion 
 of a primitive uneducated nature sprang into life 
 within Tony Devon. The curly head darted up- 
 ward for a moment, and the gray eyes blazed 
 into the muddy blue ones, leering down upon her. 
 Then knowing no other way to protect herself 
 from desecration, she set her sharp white teeth 
 into Reggie's hand, sinking them deep beneath 
 his skin. A cry of hurt rage escaped his lips, and 
 he flung her from him. 
 
 "You little vixen," he got out, shaking his 
 hand in panic. "You little wicked brat! There! 
 Now, I'll teach you to bite me again." 
 
 He sprang at her, and Tony screamed twice 
 with all her lung power. Then something hap- 
 pened! Some one grasped hold of the man who 
 had snatched her into his arms, and for what 
 seemed an interminable time, two forms struggled 
 together in the small cabin. For a few ..econds
 
 132 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Tony didn't realize who Reggie's assailant was. 
 then with a grip at her heart she recognized 
 Philip's white face as with terrible strength he 
 dragged Reggie up the steps. 
 
 Into her terrified eyes came one strange flash- 
 ing smile of welcome. Her salvation man hadi 
 saved her, and as ever}' woman does in cases where 
 her need is great, she cried out her thanksgiving in 
 his name, that best beloved name of Ph.il ip. By 
 this time the two men were struggling on the 
 deck, and as if impelled by some unknown force, 
 Tony staggered up the steps. 
 
 It was just as she reached the top that she saw 
 Captain MacCauley, by one mighty effort, lift the 
 struggling figure of the other man and throw him 
 into the lake. A sharp ejaculation fell from her 
 lips. Never had she seen such strength, never had 
 her heart sung as it did then. 'Twas the song of 
 a woman's clean soul when, after a great terror 
 had overwhelmed it, it suddenly realized that the 
 one man in the world had come forth out of some- 
 where to save and to protect it. She trembled 
 so that when Philip swung back and rushed 
 toward her, she sank down at his feet. As falls
 
 The Fight 133 
 
 away an old garment so fell away Philip's anger. 
 Tenderly he lifted her up and spoke to her. 
 
 "Poor little girl," he whispered. But he had 
 no time to add anything, nor had Tony time to 
 answer him. 
 
 For there on the Hoghole path looking at her, 
 a frown dragging his brows together, was her 
 father. 
 
 Uriah Devon had halted at the sight of a man 
 being thrown into the water. Then he came for- 
 ward, and the girl loosened herself from the arms 
 that held her and turned swiftly to him. 
 
 "Where's mummy?" she demanded, and again 
 came a sharper: "Where's my mother?" Roughly 
 shoving her aside, Uriah walked across the boat 
 deck, his sunken eyes fixed on MacCauley. 
 
 "What you mussin' about my boat for, mis- 
 ter?" he demanded. "And what happened to that 
 young feller crawlin' to the beach there?" 
 
 "I slung him in the lake," said Philip, fiercely. 
 
 "The pup was was ' he made a gesture 
 
 toward Tony as Devon's interruption belched 
 forth:
 
 134 The Shadow of the Sheltering 
 
 "Was it any of your business what happcmed 
 to my girl?" 
 
 "He saved me, daddy," cried Tonnibel. "I was 
 being hurt and him and salvation helped me." 
 
 Uriah took another step toward the young cap- 
 tain. 
 
 "That's your canoe, ain't it, roped to my 
 dock?" he demanded fiercely. "Well, hop in and 
 get away if you don't want a broken skull!" 
 
 Philip sent a flashing glance to the silent white 
 girl. There was such terror marked on tier face 
 that his teeth came together tensely. 
 
 "He can't go till my mother comes," sne broke 
 out abruptly. "I won't stay if he don't.'* 
 
 Uriah's hand went back to his hip. 
 
 "I guess he'll go if I tell 'im to,'* said he. 
 "Just hop into your boat, kid, before I fill you up 
 to your teeth with little bits of hot Iea<i." 
 
 Tonnibel had witnessed scenes like this before. 
 She knew but a tiny pressure of her father's finger 
 on the gun he held, would kill her sweetheart. 
 
 "Go along," she managed to get out between 
 her chattering teeth. "It'll be worse for both of 
 us if you don't!"
 
 The Fight 135 
 
 DCYOH was forcing Philip backward toward the 
 end of the dock, and by this time Reginald had 
 crawled t the shore and had lain down upon it. 
 
 "Don't lag, mister," cried Tony to Philip. "Go 
 along to Ithaca." 
 
 MacCauley stepped into his canoe, and Devon 
 sullenly unfastened the rope and threw it into 
 the bow of the craft. 
 
 "Don't come back here if you don't want a 
 taste of this," he snapped, touching his gun. "Get 
 out and stay out, mister." 
 
 With the end of the rerolrer, he gave the 
 canoe a shove, and Tony saw the paddle dip into 
 the water, and the boy move away. 
 
 The short spring day was almost at an end. 
 Over the lake dusk had settled, and the last bird 
 had said good night to the sun, before it had 
 rolled in fiery splendor down over the hill. Be- 
 yond there to the north little dark clouds drifted 
 southward on the rising wind. 
 
 Uriah Btood a moment and looked off to the 
 hills. Then locking Tony in the cabin, he went to 
 where Reggie lay on the shore, and helped him 
 back to the boat.
 
 136 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "You're a nice lookin' duck," snid Uriah, star- 
 ing at the dripping lad. "What happened, and 
 where'd that, mutt come from there in that 
 canoe"?" 
 
 Reggie's frown deepened. 
 
 "He don't amount to anything," he replied 
 sulkily. "Just like that- h- hopped in and without 
 a word slung me in the lake." 
 
 "What was you doin'V" Uiiah demanded. 
 
 Reggie didn't answer for a moment. In to hi> 
 eyes had swept a belligerent expression. 
 
 "Only tryin' to kiss the k : J," lie grumbled. 
 "Look where she bit me." 
 
 Uriah glanced at the lacerated fingers, Then 
 he laughed. 
 
 "Some little hellion, that 
 "Never mind. Shell -.-. -. j 
 didn't I tell 3-011 to let her alone till I give the 
 word?" 
 
 "And I have till now." whined Reg.rlr, wiping 
 the drops of water from his face. ''You sav I've 
 got to marry her. Can't a feller kiss the girl he's 
 going to marry, I'd like to know?" 
 
 "Not when the girl's like that kid is," replied
 
 The Fight 137 
 
 Devon. "She's got to be handled with gloves. If 
 Ede had a been here mebbe she'd a flew at you 
 too. No tellin'." 
 
 "I want to know who the girl is before I marry 
 her," thrust in Reggie, doggedly. 
 
 "You'll know when I'm damned good and 
 ready to yap it to you," Uriah shot back, "and 
 not before. Now we'll make off to Auburn, for 
 no tellin' what that skunk in the canoe'll do. 
 It's goin' to rain too," he ended.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE FACE IN THE WINDOW 
 
 BY ten o'clock a heavy rain and wind had 
 settled over the Storm Country with such force 
 that the waves were rolling southward like ivory- 
 crested mountains. Once in a while a heavy thud 
 of thunder reverberated over the lake from the 
 north, losing its roar back of the Cornell build- 
 ings on the University Campus. 
 
 Devon's canal boat was following the little tug 
 which was hugging the western shore northward. 
 By this time they were almost two miles from the 
 head of the lake, and although the progress was 
 slow, they had passed the last squatter's hut snug- 
 gled in the ragged rocks. 
 
 Tonnibel, in the little room back of the cabin, 
 was searching through the darkness from the small 
 window. But the only thing she could see was th~ 
 dark bank along which they crept and whic r \ once 
 
 138
 
 The Face in the Window 139 
 
 in a while was lit up by a vivid streak of light- 
 ning. 
 
 Now the two men were on the little tug ahead, 
 and once in a while their voices were borne back 
 to her on the wind. But she didn't care what they 
 said because she had grown heartsick and hope- 
 less. The familiar little chug-chug of the tug told 
 her she was being carried far beyond the reach of 
 her friends. How passionately she wished that 
 she hadn't come that day to the boat at all. When 
 she thought of Paul Pendlehaven, her heart ached, 
 and she plead for herself and him in the reverent 
 terms Philip MacCauley had taught her. 
 
 Suddenly the engine stopped, and as if she im- 
 agined Gussie could help her, she gathered her 
 into her arms. 
 
 In a vivid streak of lightning, she saw they 
 were anchored close to Crowbar point, which pro- 
 tected them somewhat from the wind. She 
 crouched low when the little door opened, and 
 Uriah called her name. 
 
 "Come out here, Tonnibel," he commanded 
 roughly, and Tony, with Gussie still in her arms,
 
 140 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 crept into the cabin where Reggie was seated on 
 a bunk looking pale and sullen. 
 
 "Set down on the floor, brat," commanded 
 Uriah, and Tonnibel dropped down. "Now listen 
 to me, Tony," went on Devon. "Ever since 
 you've been knee high to a grasshopper you been 
 as mean as the devil. You always got in behind 
 Ede when she was here, but now there ain't no 
 skirts to shove me off. You hear*?" 
 
 Every vestige of blood left the wan young face. 
 
 ''Where is mummy'?" she said, lifting implor- 
 ing eyes to his. 
 
 "Dead," said Devon, brutally, "as dead as a 
 door nail. Here, my lady, if you holler, I'll rap 
 you one on the gob." 
 
 "Dead!" cried Tonnibel. "Pop, you're lying to 
 me, I know you are!" 
 
 "Have it your own way, kid," replied Uriah, 
 with an insolent laugh, "but one thing's sure, Ede 
 ain't here to buck against me now. What I want 
 to get into your thick noodle is, you're goin' to 
 get married as soon as we get to Auburn. See 1 ?" 
 
 The girl's eyes remained centered on his face, 
 horror deep-seated in their gray depths.
 
 The Face in the Window 
 
 "Here's Reggie wantin' to marry you," con- 
 tinued Devon, with a wide wave at the limp 
 young man. "And when I say you've got to, I 
 mean it." 
 
 "I won't," fell from Tony's lips, but the awful 
 expression on her face didn't change, nor did she 
 drop her eyes. 
 
 Devon took a quick step toward her, with an 
 upraised arm, and as he had beaten his wife, so 
 he laid the blows about the girl's head and shoul- 
 ders. The pig fell from Tony's arms in her des- 
 perate efforts to protect herself. 
 
 "Oh, daddy, don't, don't, any more!" she 
 screamed. 
 
 Reggie Brown was watching the brutal scene 
 dully as if it interested him but little. At the 
 girl's fearful plea, Devon stepped back and 
 glared at her. 
 
 "Will you do what I bid you, miss*?" he de- 
 manded hoarsely. "I'd as soon kill you as take 
 a wink." 
 
 Tonnibel made no answer save to weep more 
 wildly, and, because she did not make ready reply,
 
 142 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Uriah struck her again. Then suddenly Reginald 
 stood up. 
 
 "Don't hit 'er any more, Dev," he drawled. 
 "Shut 'er up a while, and keep 'er without grub, 
 and she'll come to time. Give 'er a night to 
 think it over. God, but you've walloped her black 
 and blue as 'tis." 
 
 In answer to this, Devon picked Tony up and 
 threw her into the back cabin. Then he kicked 
 Gussie over the threshold, slammed the door and 
 locked it. 
 
 In a few minutes Tony Devon heard the engine 
 of the tug start up again, and the waves swishing 
 against the sides of the boat. 
 
 Philip MacCauley had paddled away from the 
 "Dirty Mary," with a dull sick fear for the girl 
 he had had to leave behind. To fight single- 
 handed a drunken man with a gun was foolhardy 
 and would do little Tony no good. 
 
 When he reached the corner of the lake, he ran 
 his craft ashore and sat for a long time thinking. 
 The clouds had begun to empty their contents into 
 Cayuga, and still he waited. Suddenly he saw 
 through the dusk that the canal boat had left its
 
 The Face in the Window 143 
 
 moorings and was moving slowly northward in 
 the teeth of the rising wind. With an ejaculation 
 he shoved off and was out in the boiling surf. 
 Wherever that boat went, he decided to go too. 
 By keeping close to the shore, he managed to 
 weather the waves, and when he paddled close to 
 the canal boat, he took a long breath of thanks- 
 giving. It was too dark for any one on the other 
 boat to see his canoe, and the sound of his dipping 
 paddle was lost in the elemental roar. 
 
 As he paddled carefully along, he could see 
 the shadows of two men in the glimmer of the 
 little light in the small pilot house. Then Reggie 
 was there with Devon, but where was Tony? 
 
 One small window in the canal boat gave forth 
 a dim light. He felt within him that she was there 
 where that light was, alone and suffering. What 
 
 jhad she thought of his allowing himself to be 
 forced away from her when she needed him most 1 ? 
 Boyish tears stung his eyelids as he remembered 
 
 . the hopeless expression that had convulsed her 
 face when he had been thrust from the dock into 
 his canoe. His teeth came together sharply. He
 
 144 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 was no coward, this Philip MacCauley, this cap- 
 tain in the Salvation Army. 
 
 He wanted to draw up along the side of the 
 boat, but scarcely dared. He was afraid that sud- 
 den contact against the heavier vessel would either 
 tip over his slender craft or demolish it entirely. 
 It took much energy to keep his boat top up and 
 balanced as it was. Then too the waves beat him 
 back every time he came abreast the window 
 through which the light gleamed. 
 
 Suddenly he caught sight of a passing shadow 
 in the cabin, and his heart leapt up within him. 
 'Twas the shadow of a girl walking up and down. 
 Grimly his teeth set into his under lip and with 
 one deep thrust of the paddle into the water, he 
 sent the canoe headlong toward the canal boat. 
 Then it was that a girl's face came to the window. 
 
 The canoe almost crashed against the side of 
 the bigger boat as it came sidewise of it, and 
 Philip caught at it desperately. Slowly lifting 
 himself up he thrust his face close to Tony's. She 
 was staring at him blankly, as if his ghost had 
 suddenly risen out of the storm-tossed lake. 
 
 "Don't do that, darling," he whispered as she
 
 The Face in the Window 
 
 drew back in terror. "I'm going to take you 
 away." 
 
 Then she realized who it was, and reached out 
 and clutched at him, breathlessly. 
 
 "Climb through," undertoned Philip. "Quick, 
 climb through, and when I tell you to drop, do it, 
 but not before." 
 
 By holding his body rigidly erect, he managed 
 to keep the canoe upright. Then he waited, but 
 not for long. Almost immediately a girl's bare 
 arm shot through the window. Something wrig- 
 gled in her clutching fingers. Philip almost lost 
 his hold on the boat as Gussie came against his 
 face. He snatched the pig and dropped it at his 
 feet. Then a pair of bare legs followed, and 
 Tony's body began to wriggle through the narrow 
 aperture. 
 
 Once or twice Philip muttered an ejaculation 
 as a streak of lightning crossed the sky only to die 
 and leave the water as dark as before. It was 
 taking the girl an interminable time to squeeze 
 herself through that opening. Suddenly her shoul- 
 ders were through, and she was hanging on by her 
 hands.
 
 146 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Just at that moment the tug ahead became 
 silent, and Philip heard the two men walking back 
 along its roof. They were coming aboard the 
 canal boat, and if He crushed the canoe 
 nearer, lifted one hand and jerked the hanging 
 figure of the girl away from the window. She 
 flopped face downward into the bottom of the 
 canoe, and Philip left her there limp without a 
 word. Then he let go his hold of the canal boat, 
 and a great wave lifted his slender craft upon its 
 crest, and they shot away toward the bank. 
 
 It took a shorter time than it takes to tell it 
 for the canoe to reach the shore. Under the over- 
 hanging trees where they were shielded from the 
 wind, Philip turned and looked back. A man's 
 face was thrust through the window which had 
 just yielded up the quiet little figure at his feet. 
 Then two forms appeared upon the stern deck. 
 From the hand of one of the men hung a lantern. 
 Philip remained very still. He knew they could 
 not see him hidden away there in the darkness. 
 
 For a long time through which Tonnibel never 
 moved, Philip waited. The men on the canal 
 boat seemed filled with terror. They ran from
 
 The Face in the Window 147 
 
 one end of it to the other. He heard them calling 
 to and fro, and once in a while an oath escaped 
 from Devon as he screamed his daughter's name 
 loudly. 
 
 It was not until he saw one of them climb upon 
 the tug and heard the sudden clang of the engine 
 that the boy took up his paddle and moved slowly 
 along the shore southward, and, as he was going 
 with the wind, Philip made rapid progress toward 
 the head of the lake. 
 
 In a little cove he drew the canoe to the shore, 
 and springing out dragged it its length from the 
 water. 
 
 Then he called softly : 
 
 "Tony little Tony." 
 
 The girl stirred and lifted her head. 
 
 "Yep," she sighed. "I'm here." 
 
 "Come out," said Philip, leaning over and tak- 
 ing hold of her arm. "There ! Child, don't shake 
 so. You're safe here with me, and I suppose they 
 think you're drowned by this time. Can't you step 
 out, dear?' 
 
 She was trembling so he had to pick her up and 
 lift her out in his arms. Then he carried her under
 
 148 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 an overhanging rock and placed her on the sand. 
 
 Through many sobs and tears, she told him all 
 that had happened on the canal boat, and that 
 her father had said her mother was dead. And so 
 touched was Philip MacCauley, he felt the tears 
 rim his own lashes. For a long time, in fact until 
 the rain ceased to beat upon the rocks and shore, 
 they stayed under cover. Most of the time they 
 were silent, most of the time Philip held the curly 
 head against his breast. When the dawn began to 
 break Tonnibel roused herself. 
 
 "I'm goin' away now," she said. "I've got to 
 go to my friends. And I can't tell you just how 
 much I'm thankin' you." 
 
 "But if I let you go," protested Philip, "I'll 
 never see you again. Oh, don't do that. Tony, I 
 couldn't stand it now!" 
 
 "I couldn't either," she said under her breath. 
 "I'll be comin' back here to this hole some day." 
 
 "When?" asked Philip, eagerly. "To-day?" 
 
 Tonnibel shook her head. 
 
 "Nope," she replied wearily. "I'm dead beat 
 out." 
 
 "And I forgot that," cried the boy. "Tony,
 
 The Face in the Window 149 
 
 darling, will you will you kiss me before you 
 go?" 
 
 Two arms shot out and clasped around his 
 neck. Two eager lips met his in such passionate 
 abandon that for a long time after Tony and 
 Gussie had gone away toward the Boulevard, 
 Philip MacCauley lay face downward on the 
 shore, the sun peeping at him from the eastern 
 hill.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 "DON'T MAKE ME TELL!'" 
 
 PAUL Pendlehaven lay wide awake in his bed, 
 his sunken eyes filled with darkened sorrow. His 
 brother had stayed with him the most of the 
 night and now sat beside him. 
 
 "Go to bed, Jack," said the sick man after a 
 long silence. 
 
 "Will you sleep 4 ?" asked Dr. John. 
 
 "I'll try," was the response. "I could if I 
 knew where she was." 
 
 Dr. John reached over and took his brother's 
 thin hand. 
 
 "The morning may bring her back," he said 
 soothingly. "And Paul, old man, if you worry 
 like this, you'll be back where you were four 
 weeks ago." 
 
 The invalid sighed heavily. 
 
 "I've grown so accustomed to her," he said in 
 excuse, "and somehow since you told me of her 
 
 150
 
 "Don't Make Me Tell!" 151 
 
 people, I fear something may have happened to 
 her." 
 
 "We'll hope for the best," said John Pendle- 
 haven, rising. "Now if I run down for a wink 
 or two, will you lie quietly while I'm gone?" 
 
 "Yes," came in a breath, and true to his word, 
 Paul Pendlehaven scarcely breathed for a long 
 while after his brother went out, although his 
 heavy gray eyes stared at the breaking dawn. 
 If any one had told him a month ago, he could 
 have longed for any human being as he now 
 longed for Tony Devon, he wouldn't have be- 
 lieved it. How he had wished through the night- 
 storm to know where she had gone, how he wished 
 then for some little word from the pretty child 
 who had smiled a new lease of life into his 
 shriveled frame. He dreaded the day without her 
 dear smile bending over him. Perhaps she would 
 never come back. At that thought he groaned. 
 
 If he could only go to sleep. Only close his 
 eyes 
 
 Outside in the wistaria, a morning bird chirped 
 its greeting to the sun. From over among the ivy 
 on the other wing of the house, came an answer
 
 152 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 equally sweet and appealing. Something in the 
 thrilling notes of the feathered songsters brought 
 relief to the weary man. God was everywhere ! 
 Of course, He heard and answered the pleas of His 
 creatures ! Surely the hand of the Infinite would 
 hold back any destroying power that might thrust 
 itself against the blossoming soul of Tonnibel 
 Devon ! He groaned again and turned over on his 
 side. Through the window he heard the rustling 
 of the leaves in the morning breeze. Perhaps, as 
 John had said, Tony had gone to some friend's 
 house, and because it had rained so furiously, she 
 had stayed the night. Perhaps what worried him 
 most was the mystery that surrounded these 
 daily expeditions. Several times he had almost 
 coaxed her to tell him where she had been, but on 
 each occasion she had finally shaken her curls in 
 refusal. 
 
 His lids sank slowly down, and he slept fit- 
 fully. Mingled in his dream of Tony Devon came 
 a sharp sound. That, like Tony, must be a dream 
 too, that sound that was out of the ordinary 
 noises of the day, for although the sun had called 
 into life the bees and birds, Ithaca still slumbered.
 
 "Dont Make Me Tell!" 153 
 
 The noise came again, striking against his 
 nervous brain and waking him. Suddenly, with 
 panting breath and beating pulses, he lifted him- 
 self on his elbow. The screen had fallen from the 
 window and perhaps ten seconds passed as he 
 stared mutely at it. Then like a shot from a gun, 
 Tony Devon sprang through the window into the 
 room. For a moment the sick man gazed at her 
 with mingled emotions. Something dreadful had 
 happened to her. For one single instant she 
 paused and gave him back look for look. She 
 was so white, so wraithlike and changed, yet 
 blotching the pallor of her face were reddish blue 
 bruises. Then the bare feet took the distance 
 between them in a bound. The dimples at the 
 corners of her lips lived a moment and were gone. 
 
 When Paul Pendlehaven dropped back on the 
 pillow, she spoke. 
 
 "Me and Gussie's back," she said brokenly. 
 "I climbed up the tree and got to the roof, fearin' 
 to wake up the other folks in the house." She sat 
 down beside the bed. "Somehow I knew you'd be 
 lookin' for me, sir." 
 
 It was because she had passed through such a
 
 154 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 dreadful night and was so terribly tired that she 
 cried a little as a child cries after it has been 
 cruelly punished. 
 
 Paul Pendlehaven let his thin hand drop on the 
 frowsly head. Tears stung his own lids like 
 nettles. 
 
 "Dear child/' he breatned, "dear pretty child, 
 I've waited all night for you. My God, what's 
 happened to you?" 
 
 Tony covered her face with her hands. 
 
 "Somebody beat me up," she moaned. "I can't 
 tell anything now. And I lost my pretty clothes." 
 
 Sudden strength came to Paul Pendlehaven. 
 He sat up straight and forcibly lifted the pitiful 
 hurt face so he could look at it. 
 
 "Tony," he began gravely, "I command you 
 to tell me what happened to you. Tell me in- 
 stantly." 
 
 He felt paralyzed with fear that perhaps some- 
 thing even worse than a wounded face had come 
 to her. 
 
 "Tell me," he repeated. 
 
 Tony tried to shake her head, but the hand 
 clasped about her chin kept it steady.
 
 "Don't Make Me TettJ" 155 
 
 "Yes, you must, Tony," went on Pendlehaven. 
 "I can bear anything but suspense. If I knew, I 
 could take steps to punish the ruffian who dared to 
 do this thing." 
 
 That was just what Tony didn't want. Hadn't 
 she sworn to Edith in the presence of the infinite 
 Christ, that good Shepherd who had given up His 
 life for His sheep, that no matter what Uriah did 
 she wouldn't peach on him? 
 
 The tears were still rolling down her cheeks 
 from under lowered lids. 
 
 "You have so helped me, Tony," continued 
 Pendlehaven, "and yet you refuse to let me do 
 what I can." 
 
 "It ain't that, sir," breathed Tonnibel. "I'd 
 love to tell it, but, but I " 
 
 She tried to think of something to comfort him. 
 
 "But sometimes daddies and husbands beat 
 their women folks," she explained. 
 
 "You haven't any husband, have you, Tony 
 Devon?" demanded Pendlehaven. 
 
 "Nope!" sighed Tony. "Thankin' the good 
 Goddy, I ain't."
 
 156 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Then your father whipped you"?" quizzed the 
 doctor. 
 
 "That I can't tell," said the girl. "Don't 
 make me. . . . Oh, Lord}-, I'm all tuckered out." 
 
 It was of no use to put questions any more, 
 thought Pendlehaven. He was persuaded that her 
 father had done this dreadful thing. 
 
 "Take a drink of that milk on the table," lie 
 said gently. "Then go to bed." 
 
 "I'd rather sit here beside you, sir," trembled 
 Tony. "I just want to be glad a while you ain't 
 lost to me." 
 
 At eight o'clock, when Dr. John Pendlehaven 
 softly entered the sick room he found his brother 
 in sound slumber, and Tony Devon, her face dis- 
 colored with bruises, fast asleep in the chair by the 
 bedside. 
 
 It was a stubborn Tony that faced Dr. John 
 that morning. Adroitly he tried to draw from her 
 the reason for her extreme paleness, for the dark 
 marks stretched across her face, and the meaning 
 of the shudders that suddenly attacked her. 
 
 "I can't tell," she reiterated in distress as she 
 had to his brother. "Please don't ask me."
 
 "Don't Make Me Tell!" 157 
 
 That her mother was dead, she firmly believed. 
 This she did tell the doctor between many sobs 
 and tears. 
 
 "I'll never see her ever any more," she told 
 him tremulously. "And if you'll let me, I'll live 
 here forever and forever and take care of Dr. 
 Paul." 
 
 "My brother can't get along without you, 
 dear," he said deeply touched. "If you had seen 
 how he grieved last night, you wouldn't have 
 made that remark." 
 
 "I know he likes me," said the girl, sighing, 
 "and I love him. Why, I love him " 
 
 She searched the man's face and caught his 
 smile. 
 
 "Better than 3-011 do me?" he came in with. 
 
 "Yes," said Tonnibel, honestly, "but you 
 next Then she thought of Philip, of the 
 
 hours he had held her against his breast, of the 
 kiss in the morning's dawn, and she fell into a 
 bashful silence. 
 
 When Dr. Pendlehaven told Mrs. Curtis that 
 Tony had returned, her face drew down in a 
 sulky frown.
 
 158 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pinet 
 
 "But we needn't care," Katherine said after- 
 wards, "she doesn't bother us much. For my part 
 I can't see how Cousin Paul stands her." 
 
 "John says Paul almost died last night," took 
 up Mrs. Curtis. "I suppose she's one of the things 
 we've got to stand in a house run by an old bach- 
 elor and a grieving widower." 
 
 "To say nothing of a father with a daughter 
 lost somewhere in the world," supplemented 
 Katherine. 
 
 "There's no danger of Caroline's returning 
 after all these years," said Mrs. Curtis. "If if 
 that girl hadn't come, Paul wouldn't have lived 
 long. John told me so himself. I almost hoped 
 that " 
 
 "That he'd die?" interrupted Katherine, ma- 
 liciously. "Well, to be truthful I have wished it 
 many times. Cousin John would have to think of 
 somebody else then. Perhaps he'd turn his atten- 
 tion to you, mother darling." 
 
 "He won't while Paul lives," sighed Mrs. 
 Curtis. "I don't know just what to do. I've 
 thought of every conceivable way to get that girl
 
 "'Don't Make Me Tell!" 159 
 
 out of the house, and John forestalls me every 
 time." 
 
 "I'm glad Philip hasn't seen her," remarked 
 Katherine. "He's just the religious maudlin kind 
 who would fall for an appealing face like hers." 
 Mrs. Curtis made an impatient gesture, and Kath- 
 erine proceeded, "We can't deny she is appealing, 
 mamma, even if we hate 'er! And God knows I 
 loathe her so I could strangle her with these two 
 hands." She held up clenched fingers, then re- 
 laxed them and laughed bitterly. "Heavens! 
 What's the use of butting our heads against a 
 stone wall. . . . Give me a cigarette, my dear 
 Sarah. Philip won't be here until night, and I 
 can get rid of the odor before that." 
 
 Meanwhile upstairs Tony Devon was fast 
 getting back to her normal self. The blessed as- 
 surance she had had that she was needed by her 
 sick friend lifted her spirits. She grieved in- 
 wardly for her mother but shuddered when she 
 thought of her father. Now all ties were cut be- 
 tween them. She had no doubt but that both 
 Uriah and Reggie thought she was dead in the
 
 160 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 lake. She hoped they did ! She'd never see either 
 one of them again. 
 
 She was sitting thinking deeply when Paul 
 Pendlehaven spoke to her. 
 
 "Little dear," said he, reaching out his hand 
 toward her, "come over a minute. I want to talk 
 to you !" 
 
 Tonnibel went to him instantly as she always 
 did when he called her. 
 
 "You will promise me something," he insisted, 
 as his hot hand clasped hers. 
 
 She nodded her head emphatically. 
 
 "I love you so I'd give my word to anything," 
 she murmured, "and once I heard Love's every- 
 thing in the world. Is it?" 
 
 Thrilled to the depths of his being, Paul re- 
 turned softly: 
 
 "Yes, everything and everywhere. But, Tony, 
 don't go out again like you did yesterday. I 
 shan't be able to stand it if you do!''* 
 
 Tonnibel's mind flashed to Philip. She felt 
 sure he would go to the corner of the lake every 
 day to meet her as he had gone to the canal boat. 
 
 Yet as she gazed into the imploring eyes of
 
 "Don't Make Me Tell!" 161 
 
 her friend, she had no heart to deny him his wish. 
 
 "I'm selfish perhaps," the man went on, "but, 
 Tony dear, if you want to go out, there's lots of 
 cars in the garage, and horses in the stable. Won't 
 you promise me?" 
 
 Tony thrust the memory of Philip's face from 
 her mind. She put the wish to be in his arms 
 again, to feel his warm lips once more on hers 
 behind her, and tremblingly smiled in acquiesence. 
 
 "I promise," she said in a low voice, but a sob 
 prevented her from saying anything more.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE STONING 
 
 SOME days later Katherine said to her mother: 
 
 "I can't see what's the matter with Philip. He 
 doesn't run in even as often as he did three weeks 
 ago, and he's as solemn as an owl. When I ask 
 him what's troubling him, he won't say a word. I 
 suppose the souls of all squatterdom are on his 
 shoulders. What a miserable fad he's struck any- 
 way." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis tossed her head. 
 
 "If you had any sisterly affection, you'd be 
 more exercised over your brother than over a 
 stranger," said she. 
 
 Katherine blew out a mouthful of smoke. 
 
 "Oh, Reggie's like a bad penny. He'll come 
 back, my dear Sarah," she returned, laughing. 
 
 "You'll remember, Kathie," took up Mrs. 
 Curtis, presently, "that Reggie hasn't been home 
 
 162
 
 The Stoning 163 
 
 since the day of that terrible thunder-storm. He 
 might be dead!" 
 
 "But of course he isn't," replied the girl, con- 
 temptuously. "This isn't the first time he's been 
 away from home days at a time. Just when 
 you're not looking 'for him, he'll walk in. I 
 wouldn't worry if I were you." And saying this 
 she went out of the room. 
 
 Tony Devon almost never appeared in the 
 northern wing of the house now. The few times 
 she had been there had made her very uncom- 
 fortable. She only felt at home in the suite of 
 rooms occupied by Paul Pendlehaven, which she 
 shared, and it seemed now that he was getting 
 better by leaps and bounds. Nearly every day he 
 was up for hours at a time, while Tonnibel sat 
 beside him and read aloud. How many wonderful 
 things he had taught her since she had been with 
 him! And how much he had enjoyed the teach- 
 ing! He was fast forgetting his sorrow in the 
 building of a girl's soul, in the forming of a young 
 mind lively with hope and love. It was as Dr. 
 John had said to his cousin, Mrs. Curtis.
 
 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Paul wanted something to do, that's all. 
 Some one to take an interest in." 
 
 "He might have interested himself in Reggie 
 or in Katherine," she replied in a thin piqued 
 voice. 
 
 Pendlehaven flung back a sharp answer. 
 
 "He tried that long ago as I did, Sarah," said 
 he, "but you know very well that when Paul got 
 sick neither one of those children would go near 
 him, except to worry him for money." 
 
 "Children aren't usually interested in a sick 
 room," interjected the mother, in excuse. 
 
 "Tony Devon is, though," thrust back the man, 
 "and we've to thank her that Paul is getting 
 well." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis dropped her flushed face over her 
 embroidery work. Never had she heard her cousin 
 speak so hopefully of his brother. 
 
 "I thought you said he wouldn't live but a little 
 while only a short time ago," she replied, without 
 raising her head. 
 
 "So I did," was the response, "but that's all 
 changed now. He will get well, and as I said 
 before, the credit's to Tony Devon."
 
 The Stoning 165 
 
 By this time Philip's visits to the Pendlehaven 
 home had fallen off in such an alarming manner 
 that Katherine grew thin with worry. 
 
 "He's probably busy at the Army quarters, 
 Kathie," Mrs. Curtis said to her daughter one 
 day. "He telephones in quite often." 
 
 A disconsolate expression settled about Kath- 
 erine's mouth. 
 
 "A man's never too busy to see a girl if he 
 really wants to," said she, "and his telephones 
 don't evidence interest in me. He always asks 
 about Reggie." 
 
 "I wonder what for," mused Mrs. Curtis. "I 
 wish that dear child would come home." 
 
 "Don't worry, he will when he runs out of 
 funds," returned Katherine, sneering. "Oh! 
 Lord, what a hateful world this is anyway!" 
 
 Never before since he had taken up his work 
 of redemption, had Philip MacCauley found the 
 hours so long and so difficult to live through. Day 
 after day he canoed to the place Tony had prom- 
 ised to meet him, only to return to Ithaca more 
 at sea than ever. He had the sickening idea that 
 the girl he had grown to love was again in the
 
 166 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 clutches of her brute of a father and Reginald 
 Brown. This thought had been established by the 
 
 J 
 
 fact that the latter had as effectually disappeared 
 as had Tony Devon. 
 
 Tony, too, began to lose the high spirits that 
 had returned almost immediately after her escape 
 from the canal boat. The gray eyes grew darkly 
 circled, the lovely mouth seemed to have lost the 
 power to smile. 
 
 Paul Pendlehaven noted all this with appre- 
 hension. He questioned the girl time after time, 
 asking her if she felt well, if there was anything 
 she wanted, but she always replied in the nega- 
 tive. Finding no good reason for the gradual 
 change in her, the doctor came to a sudden reso- 
 lution. 
 
 One day after they had had their dinner, he 
 sat looking at her curiously. She was close to 
 the window reading a book, when he caused her to 
 look up by calling her name. 
 
 "Run downstairs, Tony dear," he went on, 
 "and tell my brother to come up here before office 
 hours, will you, honey?" 
 
 The girl rose, laying aside her book.
 
 The Stoning 167 
 
 She dreaded venturing into Mrs. Curtis' pres- 
 ence and shivered when she remembered the crit- 
 ical Katherine who looked her over with super- 
 cilious toleration whenever they happened to 
 meet. But she made no complaint and went 
 slowly downstairs. 
 
 The dining room door was closed, but the sound 
 of voices from within told her the family was 
 at dinner. She opened the door slowly and 
 stepped inside. For one moment her vision was 
 obscured by the fright that suddenly took pos- 
 session of her. As the blur cleared from before 
 her eyes, she saw John Pendlehaven smiling at 
 her. Then a sharp ejaculation from some one else 
 swung her gaze from the doctor's face, and it set- 
 tled on Philip MacCauley. 
 
 She went extremely pale and put out her hand 
 to grasp something for support as if she were 
 going to fall. She saw him rise up slowly, an ex- 
 pression of amazement and relief going across 
 his face. She smiled, but what a weary little 
 smile it was and how full of pleading, as if she 
 were silently begging him to forgive her for some 
 deed she'd done.
 
 168 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 John Pendlehaven gazed at the two young peo- 
 ple, and then he too got to his feet. 
 
 "Philip," he said abruptly, "this is Tonnibel 
 Devon. She's Paul's companion. We have " 
 
 Philip interrupted the speaker by his sudden 
 bound around the table. Katherine saw the light 
 in his eyes, and the brilliant smile which she'd 
 thought gone forever, flash across his face. 
 
 "Tony Devon, little Tony," he cried. "I 
 thought, oh, I thought you were dead. I thought 
 I'd lost you forever." 
 
 A noise fell from Katherine's lips, and Mrs. 
 Curtis stumbled to her feet. 
 
 "So you know her too, Philip," she snarled 
 with a hasty glance at her pallid daughter. "I 
 thought we'd kept her well out of your way." 
 
 She was so angry she forgot how her words 
 sounded. 
 
 Katherine started to speak, but the woman 
 waved her to silence. 
 
 "So you've played the sneak while eating bread 
 and butter in my house, miss," she blurted at 
 Tony. "Well, it's what one might have expected 
 of you you huzzy."
 
 The Stoning 169 
 
 "Mother!" gasped Katherine, as Tonnibel 
 snatched her hands from Philip. 
 
 "Kathie, you needn't 'mother' me !" cried Mrs. 
 Curtis, blind with rage. "Either she goes away 
 or I do. I won't stay in the house with a common 
 sneak a common " 
 
 "Sarah, sit down," thundered John Pendleha- 
 ven. "Don't speak another such a word or " 
 
 Tony was at the doctor's side before he could 
 finish his threat. 
 
 "I didn't sneak," she said, looking up at him, 
 "oh, please please believe me." 
 
 "That she didn't," cried Philip, coming to her 
 side. "Cousin John, I've known Tony Devon 
 ages, and I didn't even know she was in this 
 house." He turned his flashing eyes upon Mrs. 
 Curtis, who was weeping hysterically. "You 
 ought to be ashamed of yourself, Cousin Sarah," 
 he went on, "to use such language to a perfectly 
 nice little girl. Why, you've just about broken 
 her heart." 
 
 His voice had sunk to a passionate whisper. 
 His eyes misted in a youthful struggle to control
 
 170 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 his joy, and and at the sight of him, Katherine 
 lost her wits entirely. 
 
 "Who and what have we been harboring in 
 this house, Cousin John*?" she shrieked in a high 
 thin voice, struggling to her feet. "A gutter rat, 
 a little snake, a loose girl " 
 
 Each word, brought out with greater vehe- 
 mence and passion than the one before, struck the 
 listeners dumb. In shamed-faced misery, Tonni- 
 bel sank to the floor, dropping her head into her 
 hands. 
 
 "Oh, no, I'm not that," she wailed. "My 
 mummy never lived in the gutter, she never did, 
 I was poor, awful poor " 
 
 "Poor!" exclaimed Katherine, "you're worse 
 than poor. I suppose you've wheedled Philip the 
 same way you have Cousin Paul." 
 
 "Katherine, I command you to be silent," 
 shouted Pendlehaven. "If you say another word, 
 I shall ask you to leave my house." 
 
 "Well, I never!" screamed Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 "And you, too, Sarah," thrust in the doctor. 
 "We don't know the truth of this thing, but I
 
 The Stoning 171 
 
 know very well that Tony Devon is not a bad 
 girl." 
 
 "That she is not," interjected Philip. "Now 
 I'll tell you all about it." 
 
 As John Pendlehaven raised her to her feet, 
 Tonnibel lifted her head and fixed her tearful 
 eyes on Captain MacCauley. 
 
 "You promised you'd never tell anybody," she 
 murmured. Her mind was with the dead Edith 
 Devon, and the words of her own serious rever- 
 ent oath given in the presence of her wild-eyed 
 mother would not allow her to consent that Philip 
 should lift the stigma heaped upon her by the 
 Curtis women. 
 
 "So I did," admitted Philip, soberly, "but you 
 see now this has happened, you must release me 
 from that promise." 
 
 "I can't," sighed Tony. Then turned her face 
 to Pendlehaven. 
 
 "You'll trust us," she pleaded, waving her hand 
 toward Philip. "Please trust him and me." 
 
 "Ha !" shrieked Mrs. Curtis. "Trust you " 
 
 "Shut up, Cousin Sarah," snapped Philip at the 
 angry woman. Then he addressed himself to the
 
 172 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 doctor. "I did promise her I wouldn't tell how 
 we met. And I won't! In fact it isn't any one's 
 business. Is it, Cousin John?" 
 
 "Not that I can see," came in rather drawling 
 answer. 
 
 "I'll repeat what I said before," Philip took up 
 hastily. "I didn't know she lived here." 
 
 "We're ready to believe that nit," cried Kath- 
 erine. 
 
 Captain MacCauley stared at her. Was this 
 frowning angry girl the smiling, yielding Kather- 
 ine he had known or thought he had known V 
 
 "You can believe it or not, Kathie," he told 
 her savagely. "It makes no difference to me. 
 But it's true just the same." 
 
 "Wait here for me, Philip," said the doctor, in 
 a low tone. "I'll be back in a moment." 
 
 Then he took Tony by the hand, and they went 
 out together. 
 
 For several tense moments a silence too dread- 
 ful to describe settled down upon the dining room. 
 Katherine twisted her fork sulkily, and Mrs. 
 Curtis still sniffed in her handkerchief. 
 
 Philip looked from one to the other, wishing
 
 The Stoning 
 
 with all his heart he could say something that 
 would clear the atmosphere. 
 
 "I'm sorry, Cousin Sarah," he said abruptly, 
 trying to smile. "It certainly was awkward, 
 wasn't it*?" 
 
 "Awkward," repeated Mrs. Curtis, wrinkling 
 her face, "awkward isn't the word, Philip. It 
 was disgusting." 
 
 The gorge rose again in his throat. He desired 
 heartily to tell the austere lady the part her son 
 had taken with Tony Devon the night of the 
 thunder-storm, but here again his promise to the 
 girl loomed up. 
 
 "Sit down and finish your dinner, Philip," 
 Mrs. Curtis broke in on his revery. "You needn't 
 starve because of a a " 
 
 But Philip's face became so stormy, the speak- 
 er dared not use the word that was in her mind. 
 The boy's anger shot suddenly into a flame. 
 
 "Tonnibel Devon is the best girl I know," he 
 asserted. "Poor little thing, I pity her with all 
 my heart." 
 
 "Pity is akin to love, my dear Philip," sneered 
 Mrs. Curtis.
 
 174 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Mother," cried Katherine. ''Philip wouldn't 
 so far forget himself, and his friends and position 
 as to love well if you can't keep your tongue 
 still, go upstairs." 
 
 This was another shock for Philip. That any 
 girl could speak to her own mother in such a way 
 was beyond his comprehension. The door opened 
 just then, and Dr. John walked in. 
 
 "She came down to tell me that Paul wanted 
 me and forgot it," he said, in a low tone. "The 
 poor child is quite overcome." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis tossed her head and rose from the 
 table, and Katherine, rising also, followed her 
 mother out of the room. 
 
 There was very little said between the young 
 man and his older friend after the ladies had 
 taken their departure, but when Captain MacCau- 
 ley was ready to leave, he looked anxiously at 
 his companion. 
 
 "Cousin John," he murmured. "You won't let 
 any one ' 
 
 "Indeed not," interrupted the doctor, antici- 
 pating the lad's plea. "Tony Devon is here to 
 stay, Phil."
 
 The Stoning 175 
 
 "Could I could I see her, Cousin John, just a 
 minute?" the boy faltered. 
 
 "Not to-night, old fellow," replied the doctor, 
 kindly. "To-morrow perhaps." 
 
 And Philip had to be content. 
 
 That evening Katherine spent with her mother 
 in hopeless misery. 
 
 "He acted just as if he loved her," she wailed 
 at one time in their conversation. "I'd give any- 
 thing to find out how long he's known her." 
 
 "So would I," said Mrs. Curtis. "Katherine, 
 we've got to get her away by some means. She's 
 bewitched John she's brought Paul up from his 
 grave and there's no telling, she may usurp your 
 place in their wills." 
 
 "And now she's hoodwinked Philip," gulped 
 Katherine. "Can't you think of some plan? 
 Can't we claim she steals or something like that?" 
 
 "John wouldn't believe it, especially now that 
 Reggie is coming home," was the answer. "His 
 letter to-day said he'd be here very soon. Every- 
 thing that happens in this house out of the ordi- 
 nary is blamed on my poor boy." And she began 
 again to cry.
 
 176 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Great Heavens, mother, don't do that," 
 screamed Katherine. "Can't you see weeping 
 doesn't do any good'? You make me so nervous 
 I could fly. We've got to make some plan to get 
 her out of here. While you're sniveling all the 
 time, you can't think." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis rose and walked to her bedroom 
 door. 
 
 "My children have no sympathy for me at all," 
 she shot back. "But you say I can't think while I 
 cry*? Well, watch me! I'll bet you five dollars 
 Tony Devon is out of this house before another 
 week is over."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE GATHERING OF THE CLAN 
 
 THE next morning when Reggie Brown came 
 home, he went directly to his mother. Of course 
 as usual she wept at the sight of him and began 
 to upbraid him for his thoughtlessness. Why 
 hadn't he let her know where he was? Why had 
 he been gone so long? 
 
 Reggie laughed insolently. 
 
 "Do I ever let you know where I go, mater?" 
 he demanded, dropping into an easy chair. "No, 
 I don't, and I won't! I've come for the five hun- 
 dred dollars I told you before I had to have. Now 
 cough it up." 
 
 "I haven't that much money in the world," 
 sobbed Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 "Then wheedle it out of Cousin John," he 
 commanded. "I've simply got to have it!" 
 
 "Oh, the trouble this house is in " began 
 
 Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 177
 
 178 The Sluidow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Don't heap your grizzles on me," interrupted 
 Reginald. "Get the money." 
 
 Paying no heed to his gruff commands, Mrs. 
 Curtis rocked to and fro in excess of agony. 
 
 "If Paul had died," she wept, "we'd have had 
 a lot of money " 
 
 "How do you know*?" was Reggie's quick 
 query. 
 
 "Because I know how his will's made," ex- 
 plained his mother, "and unless his Caroline is 
 found, your Cousin John and I get all his money." 
 
 Reginald's eyes blazed into a flame of interest. 
 Money was the only thing that attracted him. 
 
 "Why doesn't he die then?" he asked, dropping 
 back sullenly. "He's old enough and sick enough, 
 isn't he?" 
 
 "Because he's getting well," replied his mother. 
 "That girl " 
 
 "What girl?" Reggie's voice asked the question 
 in monotone. 
 
 "Some huzzy John picked up not long ago," 
 was the reply. "She's brought Paul to life, and 
 John is wild about her, and now 
 
 "\Vhere is she?" interjected Reginald.
 
 The Gathering of the Clan 179 
 
 "With your Cousin Paul. And, Reggie, I'd 
 give five hundred to get her out of the house." 
 
 The boy rose and stood gazing down at the 
 tips of his highly polished boots. 
 
 "I'd give more than that," he replied solemnly, 
 "to know Cousin Paul was in his grave." 
 
 "Then rid us of the girl, and he'll soon keel 
 over," said the mother. "Why, one night she 
 went away and didn't come back until morning, 
 and John said Paul lost in health in those few 
 hours all he'd gained since she's been here." 
 
 But Reginald wasn't interested in Cousin Paul's 
 new companion. He wanted money, and that 
 was all, now that Tony Devon was dead. 
 
 "How about the five hundred for me?" he 
 questioned, looking at her keenly. 
 
 "I've said I hadn't it, my son," said she. "Now 
 run away, and don't bother me any more." 
 
 Reggie did leave the room but not the house. 
 His mind was filled with many plans to get hold 
 of the cash he needed. There were two things had 
 to be done. Whoever the girl with Cousin Paul 
 was, she had to go. It was enough that his mother 
 didn't want her in the house. Reggie could abuse
 
 180 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 his own women folks, he could make them cry 
 all he wanted to, but that any one, and a stranger 
 too, could force his mother into spells of hysterics, 
 he wouldn't tolerate. 
 
 Then the other thing to which he had made up 
 his mind almost brought his hair on end when 
 he contemplated it. The world had to be relieved 
 of Cousin Paul. 
 
 A little drop of something Reggie rose to his 
 feet and walked nervously up and down the room. 
 'Twould be easy enough to get hold of, for Dr. 
 John always had plenty of drugs on hand. 
 But how to get at Cousin Paul and serve it up 
 in a manner which would attach no blame to him- 
 self ! After his cousin was dead, he could adroit- 
 ly drop a hint that the young stranger had com- 
 mitted the crime. For a long time before going 
 down town, in imagination he spent in riotous 
 living the fortune that would be his when Paul 
 was out of his way. 
 
 That afternoon he met Captain MacCauley on 
 State Street. The sight of Reggie's slim swag- 
 gering figure brought Philip to a quick decision. 
 He stepped directly in front of Brown, and, as it
 
 The Gathering of the Clan 181 
 
 was the first time they'd met since that memorable 
 moment when Reggie had been flung in the lake, 
 they looked embarrassedly into each other's eyes. 
 
 "So you decided to come home 1 ?" asked Philip, 
 his voice sharply toned. 
 
 Reggie gathered together his courage and curled 
 his lips. Why should he be afraid of a Salvation 
 Army Captain even if he were rich 1 ? 
 
 "It looks like it, doesn't it?" he sneered. "And 
 it's none of your business anyway." 
 
 "It's my business about how you treat Tony 
 Devon," Philip began, but Reggie's fresh outburst 
 cut off his words. 
 
 "Nobody'll ever treat her any way after this," 
 he almost groaned. "She's dead, drowned in the 
 lake." 
 
 A horrified expression passed over Philip's face. 
 Then he realized that Reginald didn't know of 
 Tony Devon's presence in the Pendlehaven home. 
 
 "She's better off then than she was the last time 
 you saw her," he said and whirled away. 
 
 Twenty minutes later Philip was talking to 
 John Pendlehaven. 
 
 "You promised last night I could see her to-
 
 182 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 day," he pleaded. "I'll promise only to stay a 
 few minutes if I may, Cousin John." 
 
 Pendlehaven considered his young friend a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 "It's all so mysterious, Phil," he returned sol- 
 emnly. 
 
 "So 'tis," replied the boy, "but perhaps the 
 mystery won't last long. May I go up*?" 
 
 "No, I'll call Tony down," was the reply. "I 
 don't want Paul disturbed to-day." 
 
 When the boy and girl stood facing each other, 
 embarrassment kept them silent for some mo- 
 ments. Philip had decided to find out whether 
 Tony knew of Reginald Brown's connection with 
 the Pendlehavens, although he was positive in his 
 own mind she did not. 
 
 "It's a nice day," he blurted out, and Tonni- 
 bel's low "yes" was her only answer. She had 
 come to him shy with the thought of renewing 
 her friendship with him. How pretty she looked, 
 thought Philip, and how much he desired to kiss 
 her as he had that other time in the breaking 
 dawn on the shore of Lake Cayuga.
 
 The Gathering of the Clan 183 
 
 "Tony," he said huskily, "don't you don't 
 you like me at all 4 ?" 
 
 Tonnibel opened her eyes to their fullest ex- 
 tent. Why, hadn't she kissed him, oh, ever so 
 
 many times ? No girl would do that She 
 
 blushed and studied the tip of her pretty shoe. 
 
 "Don't you, Tony, or if you don't, couldn't 
 you*?" pleaded the boy. 
 
 "I like you heaps," she breathed with sup- 
 pressed emotion. She wanted to throw her arms 
 about him right then, to tell him how she had 
 longed to be with him, all about her promise 
 that she would not leave the house again without 
 some one with her. She was considering this 
 when 
 
 "I wanted to ask you if you've seen that man 
 again?" said Philip. "The one I- 
 
 "You slung in the lake*?" interrupted Tonni- 
 bel, a dimple peeping out at the corner of her 
 mouth. "No, never. I guess old Reggie thinks 
 I'm dead, don't you?" 
 
 Would he dare tell her then that her tormentor 
 might at that moment be in the same house with 
 them 1 ? No! She'd run away in fright, for he
 
 184 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 knew how she held Reginald Brown in an awe- 
 some fear even more than any one else in the 
 world. 
 
 "I saw him in town to-day," he told her final- 
 ly and then almost cursed himself for his brutal- 
 ity. She had gone so white and was looking about 
 her helplessly. 
 
 ''He'll find me, mebbe," she hesitated, a haunt- 
 ed expression coming into her eyes. "Mebbe he 
 will." 
 
 "No, he won't, not if you let me help you," ex- 
 claimed Philip. "Now listen to me ! Don't go 
 out of Cousin Paul's rooms tor anything, no mat- 
 ter what. Call a servant if you want anything 
 downstairs. And don't leave the house unless 
 you go with me." 
 
 She breathed a little easier and tried to smile 
 at him. But her lip quivered, and Philip drew her 
 to him gently. 
 
 "Tony," he implored, "won't you let me tell 
 Cousin John all about us, about this Reggie and, 
 and your father, too*?" 
 
 Tony buried her face against his breast. 
 
 "No, no," she shivered. "Once I took an awful
 
 The Gathering of the Clan 185 
 
 oath about my daddy, and it's all so mixed up I 
 couldn't speak of one without breakin' it. I 
 can't! I can't! " 
 
 "Then never mind, dear," soothed the boy. 
 "But before I go, I want your promise that you 
 will not come downstairs. Will you give it to 
 me?' 
 
 Tony didn't understand why she should prom- 
 ise this, and a whimsical thought came into her 
 srm'nd that she was always making promises to 
 some one, but she couldn't refuse him, and Philip 
 went away a little happier and feeling much more 
 secure.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 "i LOVE YOU MORE'N THE WHOLE WORLD!" 
 
 ONE late afternoon Philip MacCauley started 
 for the Pendlehavens', desirous of seeing Tony 
 Devon. He had seen Reginald Brown sitting in 
 the Trumansburg bus as it rolled through State 
 Street. It had been days since he'd seen Tony, 
 but he knew she was safe, for he never met Dr. 
 John without asking after her. 
 
 {Catherine saw him guiding his car up the road- 
 way and ran to the door to meet him. Her smile 
 was especially radiant, for she had begun to lose 
 her fear about Tonnibel's influence over him. As 
 she had told her mother, it was his business to 
 look after the poor and unfortunate, and she had 
 no doubt Philip had found the girl in some kind 
 of an evil den. 
 
 "Sit down, Phil," she entreated. "Mother's 
 sick to-day. Reggie almost sets her into fits." 
 
 186
 
 ff l Love You More'n the Whole World" 187 
 
 Philip still remained standing. 
 
 "And you've kept away so much, dear boy," 
 complained the girl, "it seems you don't care for 
 us any more." 
 
 "I do, though, but I've been busy," replied 
 Philip, not able to think of any other excuse. 
 
 "But you've always been busy, more or less," 
 the girl shot back, "and yet you came. Mother 
 and I have come to the conclusion that you. 
 couldn't have been very much interested in in - 
 Cousin Paul's protegee. You haven't even asked 
 about her." 
 
 Katherine afterwards wondered how she could 
 have so far forgotten herself as to say this. 
 
 Philip coughed embarrassedly, then laughed. 
 
 "The fact is, I came to see her to-day," he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 Katherine went wax white. 
 
 "What do you want to see her for*?" she asked 
 sharply. 
 
 "Oh, just to talk to her," replied MacCauley, 
 awkwardly. 
 
 Katherine shook her head 
 
 "I don't believe you can," she protested dubi-
 
 188 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 eusly. "Cousin John won't let any of us go up 
 to Paul's room, and she never comes down any 
 more." 
 
 "Where's Reggie*?" demanded the boy. 
 
 ""Oh, he's gone to Tnimansburg to-day," an- 
 swered Katherine, listlessly. "And I'm glad of 
 it. I wish he'd never come back. He keeps moth- 
 er in tears most of the time he's here." 
 
 "And Cousin John! I want to ask him if I can 
 take Miss Devon " 
 
 Katherine's head went up in disdain. 
 
 *'I know what you want to ask him," she in- 
 terrupted tartly, "but you needn't waste your 
 sympathy on that Devon girl. Cousin John has 
 tried to get her out in the car several times, but 
 she shies at it like a balky horse. I think she's 
 pretty well off, if you ask me, and so would you 
 If you'd seen her when she first came here. Ac- 
 tually barefooted and ragged!" 
 
 Philip's face flushed; he too remembered the 
 slender bare feet and the shock of tangled curly 
 hair. 
 
 ''That's nothing against her," he replied with 
 stern emphasis.
 
 "/ Love You More'n the Whole World" 189 
 
 "Perhaps not,'* answered the girl, holding her 
 temper as well as she could, "It wouldn't be to 
 you among the people you work with, but to have 
 one of them in your home is different. But mam- 
 ma says " 
 
 Before she could tell him her mother's opin- 
 ion, the door opened and Dr. Pendlehaven walked 
 in. 
 
 "Cousin John, 5 * said Philip, abruptly, going to 
 him, "may I take Miss Miss Devon out for a 
 little ride 1 ? I'll promise to bring her back in an 
 hour." 
 
 The doctor looked at the boy's dark pleading 
 eyes, looked and then smiled. 
 
 "Perhaps you won't have any better luck than 
 I have had, son," he answered with a little laugh. 
 "I've almost been down on my knees to the child, 
 and she absolutely refuses." 
 
 "Mother's dreadfully against her riding in our 
 car, Cousin John," Katherine cried in thin, 
 throaty tones. "The thought of it makes her 
 sick." 
 
 "Your mother's not really sick, my dear Kath- 
 erine," the doctor asserted. "Ah, here she is.
 
 190 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Katherine was just speaking of you, my dear 
 Sarah." 
 
 A merry twinkle came into his eyes as he turned 
 on his cousin. 
 
 "Now was she?" smirked Mrs. Curtis. "Isn't 
 it nice to be spoken well of behind one's back*? 
 Oh. Cousin John, my head is much better. . . . 
 What were you saying, Kathie*?" 
 
 Katherine lifted her eyes, slumbering with pas- 
 sionate anger. 
 
 "That you would dislike Cousin Paul's I 
 mean that girl up there taken out for a drive," 
 replied Katherine. 
 
 Mrs. Curtis caught her daughter's expression 
 and looked at Dr. John, then at Philip. 
 
 "Well, I should say I wouldn't like it," she 
 ejaculated. "There's a limit to all things. Per- 
 haps for Paul's sake, she must stay for a while, 
 but as I said, dear Cousin John, there's a limit. 
 What in the world would the neighbors say to 
 such an outrage^" 
 
 Dr. Pendlehaven's face gathered a dark look. 
 
 "If she'll go with Philip, Sarah," he said, "I
 
 "I Love You More'n the Whole World" 191 
 
 wouldn't give a hang what the neighbors said, 
 They could like it or lump it, I wouldn't mind. 
 She's refused absolutely to go with me. Come 
 along up, Phil, and ask her." 
 
 "Cousin John !" cried Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 "And, oh, Cousin John," gasped Katherine. 
 But the doctor was too angry to pay any heed to 
 them. 
 
 "You really want to take the child, my ladl" 
 he asked, smiling at MacCauley. 
 
 "Yes, do let me," blurted the boy. "Let's go 
 up now." 
 
 They had no more than closed the door when 
 Katherine burst into tears, and Mrs. Curtis 
 plumped down into a chair in a spell of hysterics. 
 
 "The little trollop," she cried. "Oh, I'd 
 like " 
 
 "I'd like to kill her," burst forth Katherine. 
 "Mother, if you don't do something for me, I'll 
 die. Oh, to think of it, he takes her out when 
 he could take me! Oh, God! Oh, dear God, 
 help me!" 
 
 Her daughter's terrible outburst brought Mrs. 
 Curtis directly out of herself.
 
 192 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 1 'Don't, Kathie," she said in a whisper. "I real- 
 ly had no idea you cared for him so much. I will 
 help you, poor dear. John shall listen to me this 
 night, he certainly shall." 
 
 Meantime, Tonnibel looked up with inquiring 
 eyes as Dr. Pendlehaven walked in. He hud 
 closed Philip on the outside cf the door. 
 
 The girl gave him a slight smile. She wanted 
 to be cheerful, but her head ached, and her heart 
 ached worse. The doctor c?me forward and took 
 hold of her hand. 
 
 fC Paul," he asked, looking at his brother, "could 
 you spare our little girl for P.P. hour? I want her 
 to go out." 
 
 Tonnibel, remembering her promise to Philip, 
 rose to her feet. 
 
 rc l don't want to," she trembled. "I'd rather 
 stay here. I'd really rather stay here." 
 
 Pendlehaven hid the smile that lurked at the 
 comers of his lips by turning swiftly. He went 
 to the door and opened it, and Philip walked in. 
 
 f 'Here's a young man, Miss Tony Devon," he 
 said, laughing at the sight of the girl's puzzled
 
 "I Love You Morc'n the Whole World" 193 
 
 face, "who tells me he wants you to drive with 
 him. Now, what do you say 5 ?" 
 
 "Say yes, darling Tony,'"' Philip ejaculated 
 with sparkling eyes. 
 
 "Oh, that's how the land lies, is it*?" said 
 Dr. John under his breath. Then aloud, "I 
 didn't know this thing had gotten to the 'darling* 
 point, Philip." 
 
 TonnibePs face grew poppy red, and she stood 
 with her eyes cast down and her fingers inter- 
 locked nervously. Oh! how she wanted to go, 
 now her boy had come for her. Her faith in him 
 was so great that it never occurred to her that she 
 could be in any danger when with him, but she 
 couldn't have spoken to have saved her life. Only 
 her loving loyal soul cried out within its own con- 
 fines, sending forth a fervent petition. 
 
 "Mebbe just around the corner, dear Goddy," 
 she prayed inwardly. "And quicker'n a cat can 
 wink, I'll be back. 3 ' 
 
 "You will go, Tony?' begged Philip, his face 
 very red from John's speech. 
 
 "If if " the girl stammered. 
 
 John Pendlehaven laughed.
 
 194 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "She can go, can't she, Paul?" he asked. "Phil 
 will take good care of her." 
 
 Paul Pendlehaven smiled and sighed. 
 
 "Of course she can go! She ought to!" he 
 said. "She stays in too close. I've told her that 
 every day. Go along, little maid, but come back 
 to your old uncle in a little while." 
 
 Philip seized her hand to lead her away, but 
 Tony turned to the bed. Then she stooped and 
 kissed Paul Pendlehaven impulsively. 
 
 "I love you," she whispered, "and mebbe it'll 
 only be half an hour before I'm back to you." 
 
 Dr. John caught her by the arm as she passed 
 him. 
 
 "You show partiality, little girl," he said. 
 "Why should my brother get all the kisses'?" 
 
 Tonnibel searched his face an instant, then she 
 flung up her arms and clasped his neck. 
 
 "I love you heaps, too, and I'm awful happy," 
 she murmured in his ear. 
 
 With her eyes filled with burning tears, Kath- 
 erine watched the lad she loved help Tony Devon 
 into his large touring car, and with a passionate 
 cry she saw them drive away.
 
 "I Love You Morc'n the Whole World" 195 
 
 For many minutes after the car started, Philip 
 paid strict attention to his driving, and Tonnibel 
 allowed herself the luxury of taking a sidelong 
 look at him now and then. 
 
 They rushed up the hill, turned into the campus 
 and out the shaded road toward Forest home. 
 Once within sight of Beebe Lake, Captain Mac- 
 Cauley slowed down and stopped. 
 
 "God, how I've prayed for this minute," he 
 exclaimed, turning on her suddenly. 
 
 "I have too," said Tonnibel in a shy sweet 
 Toice, "I thought you'd forgotten about me." 
 
 "Why, I couldn't do my work half way well, 
 I've thought about you so much," cried the boy, 
 "and I've been planning a lot for you and me. 
 You see, Dr. John is a sort of a guardian to 
 me, and next year I'll be twenty-three. Then I 
 have all my own money. I can get married thea 
 if I want to." 
 
 "Oh," said Tonnibel, in a queer little voice. 
 
 "Yes, I believe in early marriages," Philip 
 went on emphatically. "Wasn't it a queer thing 
 that all the while I was haunting the shore, you
 
 196 The Shadow o; ike Sheltering Pines 
 
 were in the house, my house almost'? You see, 
 I live just next door to you." 
 
 "Oh!" Tony said again. Something had hurt 
 her dreadfully. Something he had said. He 
 might be married next year, and of course it 
 would be to Katherine. 
 
 "And time and again ] heard how much some 
 i:ttle girl was helping Dr Paul," he went on, 
 "but somehow I never heard your name and 
 
 hadn't the least idea ' He stopped. Then 
 
 he slipped his arm about hei, "I didn't know she 
 was my little girl," he finished. 
 
 Tony closed her eyes ! All the unhappiness of 
 the past weeks left her that moment like a van- 
 ished burden. He had said she was his little girl. 
 How very lovely the world was ! And how her 
 heart sang when only a minute or so before it 
 had hurt dreadfully. 
 
 "Lean against me, dear," murmured Philip. 
 "And this time Oh, Tony, don't leave me to-day 
 without telling me you love me a lot." 
 
 Tony glimpsed him with one little upward 
 glance. Her eyes were star-bright.
 
 "I Love You More'n the Whole World" 197 
 
 "I love you more'n the whole world," she trem- 
 bled. "More'n I know how to tell." 
 
 It isn't any one's affair just how many times 
 Philip made Tony tell him she'd marry him, nor 
 is it any one's affair how many times he kissed 
 her, but it is our business to listen to Philip's con- 
 clusion. 
 
 "I'm going to tell Cousin John and Cousin 
 Paul to-night that we're going to be married," he 
 said, and Tonnibel had no inclination to forbid 
 him. 
 
 With dark thoughts Katherine was watching 
 for them to come back again. She saw the happy 
 shining face of the girl, saw Philip lift the little 
 figure from the car, and draw her up the steps. 
 Her teeth came together in sharp misery as she 
 turned from the window and went upstairs.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 A LITTLE DROP OF SOMETHING 
 
 REGINALD was sitting in his mother's room that 
 evening when his sister opened the door and en- 
 tered. The girl looked about for Mrs. Curtis, 
 then picked up a cigarette and lit it. She was so 
 white and drawn looking that her brother stared 
 at her. 
 
 "What's the matter, sis?" he asked with no 
 particular interest in his voice. 
 
 "I hate everybody in the world," snapped the 
 girl. 
 
 "Whew! That's some hate," laughed Reggie. 
 
 Katherine threw herself down on the divan. 
 
 "Worst of any one I hate Paul Pendlehaven 
 and next, well, next I hate Cousin John,'* she 
 said between her teeth. 
 
 "What have my beloved cousins done now that 
 displeases you, fair maiden?" demanded Reggie, 
 leering at her. 
 
 198
 
 A Little Drop of Something 199 
 
 "They're hateful and wicked," replied the girl, 
 savagely. "I wish, oh, how I wish Paul would 
 die to-night. I'd almost like to kill him myself." 
 "He must have done something pretty bad to 
 make you talk like that," remarked her brother, 
 growing grave. 
 
 "He has. If it weren't for him, we'd all have 
 money, and if it weren't for that girl with him, 
 ibc'd die." 
 
 "So the mater told me the other day," was 
 Reggie's answer. 
 
 "Have you seen her*?" asked Katherine. 
 "No, not a glimpse," responded Reggie. "And 
 >[ don't want to. The mater says she came here 
 agged and quite ugly." 
 
 "I hate her, too," said Katherine, low-toned. 
 "You're everlasting busy with your hating, 
 iren't you?" teased Reginald. "Well, I might 
 heer you up a little if I told you that perhaps 
 efore long your illustrious Cousin Paul will be 
 uder the sod." 
 
 The girl sat up and stared at him. 
 "Don't be a fool, Reggie," she said with a sneer. 
 'Cousin John says Paul will be able to go out of
 
 200 The Shadow o] tine Sheltering Pines 
 
 the house very soon, that by next week he can 
 go anywhere he likes." 
 
 Reginald got up lazily. He said something 
 under his breath that made his sister struggle to 
 her feet. She stood a moment and gazed with 
 startled eyes at the door that had closed Reggie 
 on the other side of it. 
 
 "Now, what'd he mean by that'?" she wondered 
 dully. "What did he mean by saying that if he 
 could help it, Cousin Paul would never drive 
 again. I wonder just what he meant by that!" 
 
 Reggie knew what he meant by his words if 
 Katherine didn't. He intended to put Dr. Paul 
 out of the way, thus helping his mother as well 
 as himself. It would be easy to steal into Dr. 
 John's office and filch a handful of little pills 
 that would turn the trick before morning. He 
 wanted to get away from Ithaca, to leave the 
 town that always put him in mind of Tonnibel 
 Devon. He tried in vain to keep his thoughts 
 from the girl's death; he feared he would go mad 
 unless a radical change came into his life. The 
 least wind that blew brought back the awful mo- 
 ment when he and Devon had discovered the girl
 
 A Little Drop of Something 201 
 
 had drowned herself, and because of his torment- 
 ing conscience, he drank more heavily every day. 
 After leaving his sister, he went to his room where 
 he filled himself up with brandy. The drunker 
 he got, the more dim grew the picture of Tony's 
 pale, terrified face. 
 
 He slept soddenly for an hour or so, and only 
 awoke when a servant rapped at the door and told 
 him dinner was ready. He was too ill to get up 
 and lay staring hopelessly about the room. So 
 muddled was his brain that for a short time he 
 made no effort to sequence his thoughts. Then 
 suddenly out of the shadows in the corner, floated 
 Tonnibel Devon. His common sense, what little 
 he had left, told him the spirits of the dead could 
 not leave a higher plane and haunt the earth. 
 
 Yet yet He groaned and turned slowly in 
 
 the bed. Instead of getting better, he was getting 
 worse. The ghost of Devon's daughter was 
 haunting him in every one of his sober hours. He 
 hated Ithaca and every one in it. If Dr. Paul 
 were dead 
 
 He sat up, his head whirling. He crawled to 
 the floor, went to the bathroom and soaked his
 
 202 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 head in cold water. Then he sent a servant for a 
 pot of strong coffee. 
 
 So happy was Dr. Paul to have Tonnibcl 
 back that he insisted on sitting up to eat his din- 
 ner. 
 
 "It was a long hour, my dear," he said, smiling, 
 "but I'm glad you went out. You must have 
 known Philip very well for him to 
 
 "I knew him some," interrupted Tony, noncom- 
 mittedly. 
 
 Her voice had a touch of finality in it, and that, 
 added to the times both he and his brother had 
 tried to get her to tell something of her experi- 
 ences, sent Dr. Paul to silence for a while. 
 
 "He's a nice fellow, Philip is," he broke forth 
 after a time. 
 
 "He is so," was all the girl said. 
 
 "My brother and I have often wished our young 
 cousin would pattern after Phil," the doctor con- 
 tinued, "but it does seem as if nothing can be done 
 with him. Even his mother has no influence over 
 kirn." 
 
 "I've never seen him," stated Tonnibel. 
 
 "He's scarcely ever at home," answered Dr.
 
 r A Little Drop of Something 208 
 
 Paul, "and the worst of it is, he gives no explana- 
 tion as to where he goes." 
 
 Then after dinner as usual Tonnibel, with Gus- 
 sie Piglet in her arms, read from the Bible. She 
 was beginning to read very nicely by this time, 
 and Paul Pendlehaven decided that the hours 
 spent listening to the musical voice and gazing 
 at the fair expressive young face bent reverently 
 over the holy book, were the happiest of his day. 
 
 The clock struck ten when she arose softly 
 and began to prepare for the night. By the even 
 breathing of the man on the bed, she knew he was 
 asleep, and as quiet as a mouse, she crept about 
 softly so as not to arouse him. The suite directly 
 back of Paul Pendlehaven's had been given to her. 
 She went into her bedroom and made ready to re- 
 tire. Then over her night robe, she drew a light 
 kimono. 
 
 The night outside was a little stormy, a straight 
 rain falling through the branches of the trees. 
 She turned off the electric switch and stood near 
 the window looking out. She didn't want to go 
 to sleep just then; she did not want to lose her 
 happiness in oblivion. Her heart sang with glad-
 
 204 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 ness. She had but to hearken back to the afternoon 
 to hear a dear voice telling her of a great love, 
 love for her, Tonnibel Devon. How very much 
 she had to be thankful for! Her two strong 
 friends, and this wonderful new love of Philip 
 MacCaulcy's ! Nothing could have added to her 
 supreme content but some knowledge of her be- 
 loved mother, how she had died or whether she 
 really was dead or not. 
 
 Suddenly she saw the tall tree directly in front 
 of Dr. Paul's room shake as if a giant hand 
 were clutching at its roots. How could that be 1 ? 
 There wasn't any wind, not even a breeze. Her 
 heart jumped into her throat, as she crept away 
 from the window and back into Pendlehaven's 
 room. The little night lamp glimmered dimly 
 above the small table with its load of medicine 
 glasses. She stood in the shadow and peered 
 through the screen. There among the dripping 
 branches was the quiet figure of a man. 
 
 Shivers ran over her from head to foot. She 
 pictured all sorts of things. Her mind went im- 
 mediately to her father, but she put the thought
 
 A Little Drop of Something 205 
 
 of him away, for the form in the tree was much 
 more slender than Uriah Devon's. 
 
 Dr. Pendlehaven still slept, his face turned 
 towards the wall, and Tonnibel squatted down at 
 the foot of the bed, keeping the dark figure in 
 the tree in the line of her vision. The clock ticked 
 off the minutes, and the striking of its chimes told 
 her it was half past eleven. Not a sign or move- 
 ment came from the man outside, but Tony knew 
 he was there, for his body was still a black blot in 
 the tree. 
 
 She dared not leave the room, nor dared she call 
 out. She could only pray passionately that 
 strength would be given her to protect the dear 
 man sleeping on the bed. How often Dr. John 
 had told her that his brother must be kept free 
 from shocks of every kind. For another ten min- 
 utes she leaned her chin on her hand, still keeping 
 her eyes on the window. Then she saw the flut- 
 ter of a wistaria branch against the screen and 
 knew that the hour had come. Another tense si- 
 lence for several minutes, then a little scraping 
 sound as if a sharp instrument was moving over 
 wire. Some one was trying to get in. Tonnibel
 
 206 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 crawled forward on her knees until she was di- 
 rectly in front of Dr. Paul. 
 
 She sank back against the bed and waited. 
 
 The scraping sound at length ceased. This 
 time the silence was of such duration, Tony 
 thought she would scream if something didn't 
 happen. Perhaps she would if it did no, she 
 wouldn't! Dr. Paul might die if he were sud- 
 denly aroused by such a thing. 
 
 With a forward shove of her head, Tonnibel 
 saw that the wire netting had been ripped fully 
 a foot, and then she saw a hand move little by 
 little through the opening, until a long arm was 
 fully inside the room. Tony watched it, fasci- 
 nated. Then she saw it waver toward the table, 
 pause, open and lay some little pellets down with- 
 out a sound. Then long white fingers drew off 
 the covers of the glasses noiselessly and picked 
 up the pellets one after another and dropped them 
 silently into the medicine. As quietly the covers 
 were restored, and the arm slowly withdrawn. 
 Directly beneath the window, Tonnibel rose up. 
 
 There through the faint light she was staring 
 into the face of Reginald Brown. Instantly she
 
 A Little Drop of Something 207 
 
 recognized him, and all the terror of that day 
 when he and her brutal father had placed a men- 
 acing shadow over her, swept her nearly off her 
 feet. Reginald was crouched on the broad win- 
 dow sill, and for a moment their faces were sep- 
 arated but by the wire screening. He had come 
 not only to harm Paul Pendlehaven but to get 
 her! 
 
 "Stand by Salvation of the Lord," shot across 
 her tortured soul, and then through the break 
 in the wire netting she thrust her clenched fist. 
 Reginald took the blow she gave him without 
 an audible sound and fell backward into the gar- 
 den below. He was paralyzed by the blazing eyes 
 and the memory that the body of the ghost-girl 
 was somewhere beneath the broad surface of Lake 
 Cayuga. 
 
 Tonnibel heard him land on the soft grass, and 
 I for a few seconds she stood panting against the 
 window. Then she withdrew her arm, and 
 crouched down on the floor. 
 
 What had her father's pal put in Dr. Paul's 
 
 : medicine"? Minute by minute she became more 
 
 acutely sure that no good had been intended. Si-
 
 208 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 lently she took up the glasses and carried them to 
 her own room. Then she slipped out into the 
 hall, ran along the corridor and rapped softly on 
 John Pencil ehaven's apartments. Twice she re- 
 peated her summons in nervous little rap-taps 
 that penetrated Dr. John's sound slumber. When 
 he recognized her, opened the door and noticed 
 how white she was, he drew her instantly to him 
 and shut the door. 
 
 "My brother," he said, almost overcome. 
 
 "He's all right," breathed Tonnibel, faintly, 
 "but something awful's happened." 
 
 Between chattering teeth, she began to tell him 
 the dreadful tale. As she went on with the story, 
 the listener's face grew much concerned. 
 
 "Somebody's tried to poison him," he cried, 
 taking a long breath. "My God, who could be so 
 damnable as that? Come, let me get the stuff." 
 
 Together they stole back to Tonnibel's room, 
 and Dr. John carried away the medicine with 
 him, leaving Tony with a caution not to speak 
 of the matter to his brother. Putting on his 
 clothes, John went outside and made a tour of the 
 house. It wasn't difficult to find the place where
 
 A Little Drop of Something 209 
 
 the man had fallen, but there was no sign of him 
 anywhere. 
 
 Tonnibel did not sleep at all that night. But 
 very early in the morning she arose and slipped 
 into Dr. Paul's room and put back the medicine 
 Dr. John had given her. He was still breath- 
 ing evenly, and with eyes misty with tears she 
 stood looking down upon him. Then she stole 
 to the window and slipped her fingers through 
 the screen. Without making any noise, she 
 broke off several large bunches of wistaria that 
 bloomed against the house. These she heaped to- 
 gether, and was holding them in her hand when 
 Pendlehaven opened his eyes. 
 
 "Tony," he said softly. 
 
 "Yes, I'm here," was all she could force her- 
 self to say. 
 
 "What have you there?" asked Dr. Paul, smil- 
 ing at her. 
 
 She made a backward bend of her head and re- 
 plied: 
 
 "Mebbe I did something awful. Mebbe you'll 
 scold me, but the flowers were so pretty outside
 
 210 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 the window, I just dug a hole in the screen and 
 pulled them in for you." 
 
 Dr. Paul laughed. 
 
 "Child, dear," he answered, "what a wonderful 
 soul you have in that pretty body of yours. As if 
 cutting a screen amounted to anything when love 
 dictated it! The flowers are very beautiful !" 
 
 "I thought you'd like 'em," murmured Tonni- 
 bel, lamely. 
 
 Later, alone by herself, Tony Devon felt 
 crushed with shame. She had told a barefaced lie 
 to her best friend. 
 
 "I'd rather have cut my big toe off than have 
 storied to him," she groaned, under her breath. 
 "I guess there's nothin' but hell-fire for a bad kid 
 like me." 
 
 During the morning, Dr. John Pendlehaven 
 softly entered her room. He came forward, his 
 hands outstretched, his face white and very grave. 
 
 "Darling little girl," he whispered, with much 
 emotion. "You have saved my brother's life. 
 The villain, whoever he was, put the rankest kind 
 of poison in it. He must have gotten it from
 
 A Little Drop of Something 211 
 
 some doctor, for no druggist would have sold it to 
 him." 
 
 "Mebbe he's dead," replied Tony, gently, with 
 an expression of awe. "It was a long tumble he 
 took." 
 
 "No, he got away ! I've hunted the place over 
 for him. Would you know him again if you saw 
 ; him?" 
 
 "Sure," replied Tony, nodding, but she said no 
 more. To tell him who the man was, would mean 
 to break the solemn oath she had made on the 
 Christ to her mother. That would set the cops 
 on her father, too. So, "Sure" she repeated in 
 confusion. It seemed at that moment as if she 
 was compelled to deceive everybody she loved 
 to protect those she didn't love. 
 
 A timid knock brought the conversation to a 
 close. Mrs. Curtis was at the threshold when 
 Pendlehaven opened the door. 
 
 "I've been looking the house over for you, 
 John," she began. "Boy's got a headache! He 
 said for you not to bother to come to him, but 
 to give me something to make him sleep." 
 
 "Is he drunk*?" demanded Pendlehaven.
 
 212 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Mrs. Curtis began to cry. 
 
 "John, how unkind!" she sniffled from the ha- 
 ven of her handkerchief. "The moment the child 
 complains everybody accuses him of drinking. 
 No, of course, he isn't drunk."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 URIAH "GOES AWAY" 
 
 FOR many days Reginald Curtis tossed fitfully 
 in bed, tortured by the thought that he would 
 never cease being haunted by Tony Devon's spir- 
 it. He dared not get up, for he was covered with 
 bruises from his fall, and added to his misery, 
 he imagined every time the door opened he was 
 going to be arrested. But no such thing hap- 
 pened, and one afternoon when Dr. John was 
 2;one, and his mother and Katherine were shop- 
 ping down town, he crawled out of bed and made 
 iis way softly from the house. 
 
 Uriah Devon had ventured back to the Hog- 
 lole with his canal boat, so when Reginald ap- 
 peared aboard her, Devon met him with a growl. 
 
 "Where in hell you been all this time, Rege?" 
 ic demanded in a sinister tone. 
 
 Reggie shuddered, as he sank down on the 
 oench. 
 
 213
 
 214 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "I'm going crazy," he muttered. "I've been 
 awful sick." 
 
 "How sick?" Uriah inquired with a scornful 
 grunt. "You mean just drunk, don't you? 
 Didn't you try doin' what I told you to?" 
 
 The boy nodded and shivered again. 
 
 "I sure did, but, but " 
 
 "But what?" cried Devon. 
 
 "I put the stuff in the medicine all right, but 
 something happened." Reginald's voice was low 
 and wavering as he finished the statement. 
 
 "What happened?" repeated Devon, hoarsely. 
 "God, don't sit there like a damned fool, and 
 look as if you'd swallowed a live eel." 
 
 Reginald shook himself dismally. 
 
 "I climbed up all right ' He shuddered 
 
 in memory. 
 
 Uriah leaned over and grasped his compan- 
 ion's arm. 
 
 "Damn your hide!" he ejaculated. "Yap out 
 what happened after you slung the stuff in the 
 medicine?" 
 
 "I was going to slip back from the window sill 
 to the tree^" faltered Reggie, "and Tony's ghoet
 
 Uriah "Goes Away" 215 
 
 rose up before me and shoved me clean off the 
 ledge and down to the ground." 
 
 Uriah's eyes almost protruded from his head. 
 Then a slow smile ran around his lips. 
 
 "Rats!" he ejaculated huskily. "Rats, you 
 'ool ! There ain't such things as ghosts." 
 
 "Yes, there is, Devon," insisted Reggie, in a 
 Ireary monotone. "I've seen one! I've seen 
 Tony, I say, and many a time she's come so close 
 o my eyes I could have touched her if she could 
 tave been touched. The fall made me sick. I've 
 >een in bed ever since." 
 
 "And your cousin's still alive, eh 1 ?" Uriah's 
 oice had a snarl in it. 
 
 "Still alive," muttered Reggie. 
 
 "What you goin' to do about it now*?" de- 
 landed Devon. "Try it again"?" 
 
 Brown shook his head. 
 
 "No, not yet, Riah," he muttered. "Not just 
 et. I can't." 
 
 "You got to get me a lot of money some way," 
 >evon came in with. "I've got to get out of this 
 mntry, or I'll be hooked to jail if those Syra- 
 ise folks find me."
 
 216 The Shadow of the Shdlcriny Pines 
 
 "Mother said she'd try my cousin Paul," Regi- 
 nald told the other man, wearily. "He's getting 
 better, and perhaps he'll give us some cash." 
 
 "You look like a string of suckers," meditated 
 Devon. "You'd better be getting home and back 
 to bed. Best take a stiff swig too to settle your 
 nerves." 
 
 He watched the tall thin boy walk slowly away 
 in deep meditation. Then he laughed and went 
 below to the cabin. 
 
 Almost a week after Reggie's futile attempt to 
 poison his Cousin Paul, Tony Devon was sitting 
 in her room, reading, when a servant appeared 
 and told her some one wanted to see her down- 
 stairs. Her heart bounded with delight, for she 
 was sure Philip had come again and had sent for 
 her. She rushed to the glass, caught a glimpse 
 of her rosy face, pushed back a few stray curl? 
 and went downstairs to the drawing room. 
 
 As she stepped inside, she came to a sudden ter- 
 rified halt. Her father was seated in a large 
 
 chair, and his eyes, red and swollen, were cen- 
 tered upon her. Then he smiled, that wicked
 
 Uriah "Goes Away" 217 
 
 mile that always widened his thick lips when he 
 lad succeeded in some evil thing. 
 
 "Hello, Tony," he chuckled. "You've made 
 i fine nest for yourself, huh'?" 
 
 Tony only stared at him. She felt suffocated 
 >y his sudden appearance. 
 
 "I came to talk to you, kid," he said, the whee- 
 ile coming into his tones that always augured 
 ad for the person addressed. "Sit down." 
 
 Tonnibel sat, not because he told her to, but 
 ecause she couldn't stand on her trembling legs. 
 
 "You don't appear to be very tickled to see 
 our old dad," he threw at her, a frown wrink- 
 ng his face. "Get up and come over here." His 
 icked eyes seemed to be swallowing her whole. 
 A fact Devon could not make himself believe 
 ids beautiful creature was the Tony who, he 
 lought, had been drowned in the lake. He felt 
 snew sensation within him as his gaze took in 
 eery line of the lovely figure. 
 
 "Come over here," he said once more, "and 
 til me how you got out of the lake that night, 
 lid you swim ashore?" 
 
 Tonnibel shook her head.
 
 218 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "I'm not going to tell you anything," she mur- 
 mured, almost inaudibly. 
 
 "Well, keep it to yourself, then," snapped 
 Uriah. "When I get you back to the 'Dirty 
 Mary' I know ways which'll bring out of you 
 what I want to know. So get your things and 
 come along home." 
 
 Tonnibel felt as if the bottom had fallen out 
 of the world. Then a boy's smile, and a boy's 
 words, "Salvation, little Tony, is always at hand, 
 for God is good," seemed to stripe both her vi- 
 sion and hearing. 
 
 Tony believed every word Philip MacCauley 
 uttered. He couldn't speak an untruth if he tried. 
 If as he had said Salvation was at hand, then she 
 could be saved at that moment. 
 
 "I'm busy here, daddy," she managed to say. 
 "I'm doin' some nursing, so I can't get away just 
 now!" 
 
 "You'll come just the same," replied Devon, 
 getting to his feet. 
 
 "Divine Love is everywhere," flashed through 
 Tony's mind as she too struggled up. She dared 
 not scream, and even if she did, there was no one
 
 Uriah "Goes Away" 219 
 
 in the house who would help her. Mrs. Curtis 
 and her daughter would be delighted to have her 
 gone, and Dr. John was out among his patients. 
 There seemed to be no escape for her now. She 
 dared not appeal to the weak, sick man up- 
 stairs. 
 
 Thinking of him made her blurt out: 
 "Did you send that awful Brown feller here to 
 put poison in Dr. Paul's medicine 1 ?" 
 
 Uriah glared at her, went white and put his 
 hand on a chair to steady himself. 
 
 "I don't know nothin' about any man or any 
 ooison," he growled. "You'd better be comin' 
 ilong now." 
 
 " 'Twas the man you said I had to link up 
 vith. He used to come to the 'Dirty Mary,' ' 
 ixplained Tonnibel, seeing her words had fright- 
 ned her father. "I bet you sent him here." 
 
 "Keep your clack shut," growled Devon, just 
 s the door opened, and Mrs. Curtis entered, 
 'ony whirled and faced her, although she didn't 
 ,.ive the courage to utter a word. The woman 
 loked from the girl's agitated face to Devon's, 
 <iestioningly.
 
 220 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "This is my kid, ma'am,'' said Uriah, with a 
 wave of his hand toward Tony. "I've come to 
 take her home." 
 
 By the greatest effort Mrs. Curtis crushed 
 down an exclamation of delight. 
 
 ''Oh, very well," she replied. "I suppose my 
 Cousin Paul will have to get along without her. 
 Are you going to take her to-day?" 
 
 "Yep," snarled Devon. "Now! Get your 
 duds, brat!" 
 
 Tonnibel turned as if to obey, and Mrs. Curtis 
 caught her arm. 
 
 "Go as you are," she directed, "I'll send your 
 things after you." 
 
 Tony's eyes gathered a belligerent expression. 
 
 "I w r on't go without saying good-by to 
 Cousin Paul," she began. 
 
 "If she gets up there once," interposed Mrs. 
 Curtis, in an undertone to Uriah Devon, "Von 
 won't see her again." 
 
 Tonnibel had heard the words and knew they 
 were true. If she could get upstairs with Dr. 
 Paul and then lock the door, no one would dare 
 venture after her.
 
 Uriah "Goes Away" 221 
 
 Devon saw swift intelligence light up her face. 
 He didn't intend to allow her out of his sight. 
 He caught at her roughly as Mrs. Curtis barred 
 her flight to the door. 
 
 "Go with your father instantly, you bad girl," 
 that lady flared. "You never were wanted here." 
 
 Because Tony knew the insulting words were 
 a lie, and at the moment forgot Philip's assurance 
 of her safety, she struck out at the man and 
 woman with clenched fists. 
 
 "Let me alone, I say," she cried. "Let me 
 alone." 
 
 LIriah snatched her hands, and Mrs. Curtis 
 buried her fingers in the dark curls. As Tonnibel 
 cried out again, the door suddenly opened, and 
 John Pendlehaven walked into the room. L T riah 
 dropped the girl's hands, and Mrs. Curtis fell 
 back with a startled ejaculation. 
 
 "What does this mean?" questioned Dr. 
 John. 
 
 "My father's here," said Tony, her voice break- 
 ing. 
 
 "Her father, Cousin John," Mrs. Curtis re- 
 peated.
 
 2*22 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 A sharp glance silenced the frightened lady, 
 and Pendlehaven looked back at Tonnibel Devon. 
 
 ''What does he want here?" he asked of her. 
 
 "I've come for my girl, mister," said Uriah, 
 plucking up his courage. 
 
 "And she," Pendlehaven kept his eyes on Ton- 
 nibel, "does she want to go with you?" 
 
 "Whether she wants to go or not, she will," 
 ejaculated the other man. "Nobody can keep a 
 kid from her own father, I'm a guessin'." 
 
 "Tony, child," broke forth Dr. John, "don't 
 look so frightened. No one's going to hurt you 
 while you're with me. Come here, my dear." 
 
 His voice was so low, so tender that Mrs. Curtis 
 ground her teeth in rage, and Uriah Devon felt 
 his power ebbing away. 
 
 Tonnibel walked swiftly to Dr. John's side 
 and slipped her hand into his. 
 
 "Those two said I couldn't even say good-by 
 
 to to " She bowed her head against the 
 
 kindly arm that supported her and for a moment 
 was so agitated she could not proceed. 
 
 "Hush, dear," pleaded Pendlehaven. "Kii^i! 
 Do you want to stav hen 1 ?"
 
 Uriah "Goes Away" 223 
 
 "Yes, oh, yes, sir, I do, indeed, sir!" she cried. 
 -But but- 
 
 "Then you'll stay," the doctor toid her in a 
 voice low-pitched and stern. "If your father 
 thinks " 
 
 "I'm goin' to have my girl," gritted Uriah. 
 
 "Then you have the law at your hand to use, 
 Mr. Devon," returned the doctor, "and you, 
 Sarah, I'll ask you to attend to your own af- 
 fairs after this." 
 
 "But, Cousin John," argued Mrs. Curtis, "she's 
 the man's own child. Surely he has a right to 
 
 A sound of a bell pealing through the house cut 
 off her words. Then came heavy footsteps in the 
 hall. Before any one could figure on the cause 
 of this commotion, the door burst open and sev- 
 eral uniformed men came in. When Uriah De- 
 von caught sight of them, he made a dash for the 
 window, but two heavy officers were on him be- 
 fore he was half way across the room. It took but 
 a few minutes for the officials to explain to Dr. 
 Pendlehaven that they had been trailing Devon
 
 22J* The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 for a long time, that he was wanted for a crime 
 in Syracuse. 
 
 When they were leading him out manacled and 
 deeply enraged, he turned on Tonnibel. 
 
 "I'll get even with you, miss," he snapped at 
 her, his eyes full of hate, "and I'll get even with 
 you too, mister." He threw the last half of his 
 sentence at Dr. John, whose only reply was a 
 shrug of his shoulders. 
 
 During the struggle between the detectives and 
 Uriah Devon, Mrs. Curtis had clutched at Pen- 
 dlehaven's neck, but he had cast her off without 
 ceremony. Now the three were alone, Tonnibel, 
 palpitating and fearful, Mrs. Curtis, sobbing on 
 the floor, and Dr. John, looking at her sternly. 
 
 "Sarah," he said haughtily, "I saw the dis- 
 graceful way you were pulling this child's hair 
 when I came in, and at last, much as I dislike do- 
 ing it, I must ask you to leave my house." 
 
 "Leave?" Mrs. Curtis screamed. "Where 
 would I go 1 ? I haven't a place in the world but 
 this." 
 
 A careless gesture from Dr. John told Ton- 
 nibel that that fact didn't interest him. She
 
 Uriah "Goes Away" 225 
 
 slipped her hand into his. Lifting eyes that were 
 troubled and dark-circled, she begged: 
 
 "Let 'er stay, Cousin John. Mebbe she didn't 
 know my daddy would have killed me if he'd 
 got me back to the 'Dirty Mary.' ' 
 
 Pendlehaven put his arm around her, and with 
 a ring of fierceness in his voice, said : 
 
 "There, Sarah, there's pity for you. If you 
 stay, it's because Tony Devon pleads for you, not 
 because I have any sense of duty towards you. I 
 hope you feel properly grateful." 
 
 There was a touch of malicious triumph as he 
 finished speaking. The lady, overcome with hum- 
 bled pride and anger, gathered herself up. 
 
 "It's positively wicked, John Pendlehaven," 
 she cried, "the way you treat your own flesh and 
 blood." 
 
 The doctor strode to the door, opened it and 
 motioned for her to be gone. Then weeping, she 
 clattered away, her sobs audible even after the 
 door was closed. 
 
 For a few moments Tony Devon wept silently 
 in John Pendlehaven's arms. 
 
 "Oh, it's awful to have daddy taken away to
 
 226 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 jail," she moaned, "but he won't be good, he just 
 won't!" 
 
 "You're much better off to have him away, lit- 
 tle girl," soothed Pendlehaven, "for that will give 
 my brother and me a chance to do something for 
 you. Come along, and we'll go up and talk it over 
 with him, only only we won't mention your 
 father having been here."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 GOOD FOR EVIL 
 
 THAT night for dinner, five people sat about 
 the Pendlehaven table. Reggie, pale and miser- 
 able looking, sat next to his mother, and Philip 
 MacCauley was opposite Dr. John. Katherine, 
 silent and morose, was at her own place. She 
 had heard her mother's version of the after- 
 noon's happening in amazement and anger, and it 
 only added to her discontent to hear Cousin John 
 tell the tale to Philip. 
 
 "Sarah thinks," went on the doctor, "that we 
 should have tamely given her up without a word 
 to to that brute!" 
 
 "I can't see how you can keep a man's child 
 from him, Cousin John," excused Mrs. Curtis, a 
 dull red mounting to each high cheek bone. 
 
 Pendlehaven laughed. 
 
 "She wouldn't have been much use to him in 
 prison, my dear Sarah," was his answer. 
 
 227
 
 228 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "What're you talking about?" demanded Reg- 
 gie, turning red rimmed eyes on his mother. 
 
 "Your Cousin John insists on keeping the 
 daughter of a man named Devon in the house 
 here when her father wants her home," she re- 
 plied. 
 
 Reggie's face grew a misty gray. 
 
 "Devon," he repeated mechanically. "I didn't 
 know we had any such girl here!" 
 
 "She's always with Cousin Paul," remarked 
 Katherine, with a sidelong glance at Philip. "It 
 does seem satisfying, though, to know who she is. 
 Mother says she comes of common stock." 
 
 MacCauley's face grew dark, and Pendlehaven 
 cast a glance of anger at his young cousin. 
 
 "Both Kathie and I," began Mrs. Curtis. 
 "Why, Reggie, my darling, I never saw you look 
 so sick in my life !" 
 
 "Aw, cut it !" growled the boy, unsteadily. 
 "Tell me what became of the girl's father." 
 
 "He's going to jail for a nice long rest," inter- 
 jected Pendlehaven. "It seems he was mixed up 
 in a theft in Syracuse." 
 
 Reginald got up from the table.
 
 Good for Evil 229 
 
 "I don't want anything more to eat," he 
 growled, as his mother started to remonstrate 
 with him. "I'm going to bed." 
 
 When he got upstairs, he looked at himself in 
 the glass. How white and thin he had grown ! 
 He looked as if he had died and was trying to 
 come to life again. He was frightened almost out 
 of his wits too. Then Tonnibel Devon was in the 
 house. It hadn't been her ghost that had thrown 
 him bodily from the window sill after all. Uriah, 
 knowing that, had come and made a demand for 
 his daughter and had been arrested. Perhaps he 
 would be arrested also, and for a crime worse 
 than stealing. Had the girl mentioned the fact 
 of his trying to poison Paul Pendlehaven'? If she 
 hadn't, would she? When Mrs. Curtis came in to 
 ask how he felt, he was crumpled in a big chair, 
 shaking as if he had been attacked with ague. 
 
 "My goodness, Reggie, you look awful," she 
 said, coming to his side. "Tell me, child, what's 
 the matter 4 ?" 
 
 "There's matter enough," faltered the boy. "If 
 you don't want me arrested like that man to-day, 
 then give me some money to get out with."
 
 230 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pints 
 
 Mrs. Curtis began to cry and wring her hands. 
 
 "What have you been doing, Reggie V" .-he 
 whispered. 
 
 ''Getting into scrapes most ol the time,'' said 
 he. "In nearly all I've managed to wriggle out, 
 but. there's one worse than Devon's, and they'll 
 pinch me sure." 
 
 He dropped his head, and for a moment she 
 stood staring at him. Then her mother-heart re- 
 laxed, and she sank beside his chair. 
 
 "Darling," she crooned, "darling boy, go to 
 your Cousin John and tell him all about it. He 
 will forgive you and help you " 
 
 The boy bounded up, maddened beyond endur- 
 ance. 
 
 "Great God," he cried, "he'd box me up for 
 ten years! No. no. you've got to help me get 
 away from Ithaca. I must have money!" 
 
 "Wait," said Mrs. Curtis, and she hurried from 
 the room. 
 
 When she appeared before Dr. John in hi^ 
 office, he arose hastily. 
 
 "What's the matter, Sarah?" he asked. 
 "John." she entreated, forgetting to raise her
 
 Good for Evil 231 
 
 handkerchief to wipe away her tears, "I must 
 have some money to-night. A lot of it!" 
 
 "For Reggie?" boomed forth Pendlehaven. 
 
 "Yes, he's sick, and I want to send him away, 
 John. Oh ! You can't refuse me this, you simply 
 can't." 
 
 "Going away doesn't seem to help your son 
 any, as I see," answered the doctor. "He might 
 better stay home. Wait till I tell you something, 
 Sarah," he went on with a wave of his hand to 
 stop her plea. "You are ruining that boy. Three- 
 quarters of the time you don't know where he is, 
 and he drinks like a fish." 
 
 The woman knew what her cousin said was 
 true; but the money she had to have. Yet she 
 dared not confess what made it necessary. 
 
 "But this time, John," she wept brokenly, 
 "he'll go to a place I send him. He's promised 
 he would. John, you must help me." 
 
 Pendlehaven sat down and took up the book he 
 had been reading. 
 
 "I refuse to hand out any more money for that 
 boy," said he. "Let him stay home awhile, Sarah, 
 and see how that works out. . . . No, no,
 
 J.32 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 there's no use of your begging me, I refuse 
 absolutely." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis fled away almost distracted. If she 
 should see her son taken to prison like Devon had 
 been that afternoon, it would kill her. And how 
 could she face him without a means to help him 
 escape ! If she could only gain admission to 
 Cousin Paul ! He had always been the more ten- 
 der-hearted of the two. 
 
 For a while she walked up and down her room, 
 wringing her hands. She was in a state of terrible 
 anxiety when Katherine came in. 
 
 "He's got to go," repeated Mrs. Curtis, after 
 she had told the whole story to her daughter. 
 "Fie says he'll be arrested if he doesn't and has 
 made me promise not to tell John. Oh, if I could 
 only get to Paul." 
 
 "No one but that girl is allowed near him." 
 flashed back Katherine. 
 
 "By John's orders," supplemented Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 Katherine's lip curled. 
 
 "Then why not appeal to her, mamma"? Per- 
 haps she'd reach the ears of his majesty, the Lord 
 Almighty," said she.
 
 Good for Evil 233 
 
 "Oh, Kathie, don't be horrid," sobbed her 
 mother. "You know very well I couldn't ask him 
 through her." 
 
 "Then what will you do?" demanded the girl. 
 "You say Cousin John won't help Rege, and you 
 refuse to ask the girl to ask Cousin Paul. Then 
 what will you do?" 
 
 "You ask her, Kathie," said Mrs. Curtis, in 
 coaxing tones. 
 
 Katherine tossed her head. 
 
 "You've got a nerve to send me to her for any- 
 thing," she shot back. "I will not!" 
 
 Mrs. Curtis came forward with trembling 
 footsteps. 
 
 "Not for your brother's sake? Oh, Kathie. 
 do!" 
 
 "No, I won't," said the girl. "So just don't 
 ask me. Reggie's not my son, and I haven't any 
 sympathy for him." With that she made for the 
 door and was gone. 
 
 For over an hour the anguished mother walked 
 up and down. Then as if she had at last reached 
 a conclusion, she went to the servants' quarters. 
 
 re she sent the maid to ask Tonnibel to come
 
 234 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 out to Dr. Paul's conservatory for a minute. 
 
 Tony silently stared at the white woman when 
 they came face to face. Mrs. Curtis swallowed 
 her pride, gulping at the lumps that rose in her 
 throat. 
 
 'Tin sorry about this afternoon, Miss Devon," 
 she said. "I really didn't understand." 
 
 Tonnibel thought in a flash that Mrs. Curtis 
 must have gotten religion; nothing but a soften- 
 ing of heart could account for the apology. 
 
 "Never mind," she choked. "I'm awfully sorry 
 about my daddy, but if he will be bad, then I 
 suppose he must go to jail." 
 
 This statement renewed the dread in Mrs. Cur- 
 tis' heart about her son. 
 
 "Could you take a message to my Cousin Paul 
 for me"?" she ventured. 
 
 "What is it w ?" asked Tonnibel, thickly. 
 
 "My son is ill," Mrs. Curtis explained tear- 
 fully, "and he must go away. I haven't, any 
 money, but if Paul knew about it he'd help me. 
 Will you ask him'?" 
 
 Tony thought a minute.
 
 Good for Evil 235 
 
 "Not to-night!" she replied. "Mebbe Dr. 
 John " 
 
 "No, he hates my son," the other cried pas- 
 sionately. "Oh, you mustn't say anything to him 
 about it." 
 
 Tonnibel Devon was awfully tempted to refuse 
 the haughty woman who had pulled her around 
 by the hair only that afternoon. But she remem- 
 bered Philip, remembered his love for her, and 
 relented. 
 
 "Come along back to-morrow morning, and 
 mebbe I can get you some," she answered, walking 
 away. Then over her shoulder she flung back, 
 "I'll try anyhow." 
 
 With this last statement Mrs. Curtis had to be 
 satisfied. Reggie suffered dreadfully the night 
 through, his mother sitting at his bedside. Tony 
 Devon also had been awake most of the night. In 
 the morning after breakfast, she set about gather- 
 ing courage to approach Dr. Paul. 
 
 With Gussie Piglet in her arms, she sat down 
 beside him, and now the minute was there to 
 speak, Tony didn't know how to begin. But to
 
 236 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 begin meant to begin, Tony had learned, so she 
 coughed and blurted : 
 
 "Your cousin, Mrs. Curtis, is kind of pretty, 
 ain't she?" 
 
 "She would be if she didn't cry so much," 
 responded Dr. Paul. 
 
 This gave Tony the opening she wanted. 
 
 "Her boy's awful sick, so she says," she broke 
 out, "that's why she cries. Poor woman, her heart 
 hurts her." 
 
 "What's the matter with him*?" asked Paul, 
 almost without interest. 
 
 "I don't know," answered Tony, shaking her 
 head. "But if he don't go away, he'll die, mebbe." 
 
 The lovely gray eyes grew darker as they 
 searched his, and Dr. Paul leaned over and 
 looked keenly at her. 
 
 "Did Cousin Sarah ask you to come to me, little 
 girl*?" he questioned in a kindly tone. 
 
 Tonnibel nodded. 
 
 "She says Dr. John don't like her boy, and 
 mebbe you'd help her," said the girl, blushing. 
 
 The man considered the red face a moment. 
 
 "Would it please you to have me help her and
 
 Good for Evil 23T 
 
 him 1 ?" he then queried. "I should think you'd be 
 the last person to ask that. My brother told me 
 she's always very unkind to you." 
 
 "She don't know any better," replied Tony. 
 "She's never learned what lovin' awful hard 
 means, and mebbe she's so worried over her boy 
 she's got to be horrid to some one." 
 
 Paul Pendlehaven laughed, then he grew 
 grave. 
 
 "John and I've done all we could for that boy," 
 he said. "He drinks and " 
 
 "And he won't ever stay home," interjected 
 Tony. "I've never seen him once since I've been 
 here. But I guess he can't help bein' bad some- 
 times." 
 
 "Perhaps that's it," returned Pendlehaven. 
 "Now do you think you could find my cousin and 
 bring her here?" 
 
 Tonnibel looked at him doubtfully. 
 
 "She might make you nervous," she said 
 dubiously. 
 
 "I don't think so," replied the doctor, smiling. 
 "I'm so much better. We won't speak of this to 
 John, and I won't get nervous." He made the
 
 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 hist promise because the girl's face was troubled 
 and anxious. 
 
 "Then cross your heart and hope to die if you 
 let that damn woman get you to bed again," she 
 exclaimed. " 'Scuse, please, I didn't mean to 
 swear !" 
 
 Again Pendlehaven laughed. This trite child 
 with her mixture of religion and profanity amused 
 him hugely. 
 
 "I promised you, didn't I'?" he remarked. 
 "Now run for her like a good girl. Can't you see 
 how much better I am? Why, I'm almost well !" 
 
 Tonnibel nodded and hurried out. She knew 
 which room Mrs. Curtis occupied and sought the 
 other wing of the house. When she knocked at 
 the door, a woman's voice called a low: "Come 
 in!" 
 
 Tony stepped inside and turning, shut the door, 
 before she took a survey of the room. When she 
 did, she almost fainted. Reggie Brown, the awful 
 man she had known in the canal boat days, the 
 man who had dropped the poison into Paul Pen- 
 dlehaven's medicine, was seated very near Mrs.
 
 Good for Evil 239 
 
 Curtis, and Katherine was by the window, wear- 
 ing a very bored expression. 
 
 An exclamation came from each one of the 
 three as the girl faced them, looking as if she were 
 ready to collapse. 
 
 "You didn't get the money then, girl," de- 
 manded Mrs. Curtis, sharply. "Reggie dear, I 
 didn't tell you last night, but your Cousin John 
 refused me when I asked him for help, and I had 
 to reach Paul through " 
 
 Tony's eyes were on Reginald, who was 
 crouching lower in his chair. Her forward stag- 
 gering step broke off the speaker's explanation. 
 
 "You want the money for him?" she cried, 
 pointing a finger toward the cringing boy. 
 
 Mrs. Curtis nodded. 
 
 "Yes, he's my son," she answered. 
 
 Tony drew a long breath, letting it hiss out 
 through her teeth. 
 
 "If he's your son, ma'am," she said falteringly, 
 "then you got a murderer for a son. He tried 
 he tried to poison Dr. Paul." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis got up slowly, a cold rage rising in
 
 240 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 her pale eyes. Katherine came forward to her 
 mother's side, but Reginald remained silent. 
 
 "You lie," snarled Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 "I don't lie," cried Tony, hoarsely. "I don't 
 lie either. Look at him, and see if he ain't guilty. 
 He did put poison in Dr. Paul's medicine, and 
 I pushed him off the window. But I didn't know 
 he was your son." 
 
 By forcing her eyes around, the mother caught 
 sight of her boy. 
 
 "Reggie," she screamed, "for God's love, don't 
 look that way. Why don't you tell the huzzy she 
 lies! Tell her you'll go to your cousins and let 
 them know of her accusations. I'll go myself!" 
 
 She darted across the room, but Reginald's 
 husky voice called her back. 
 
 "Don't do that," he wailed. "Don't do it, 
 mater ! What she says is true. I did exactly that 
 thing. I I tried to kill Cousin Paul." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis sank down with a groan, and Kath- 
 erine uttered a cry. 
 
 "I thought you wanted me to, mater," went 
 on the boy, wearily. "I thought you said, if he 
 died, we'd get money "
 
 Good for Evil 241 
 
 "But, my God, I didn't want you to kill him," 
 moaned Mrs. Curtis. 
 
 "I didn't," said Reggie. 
 
 "But you tried," thrust in Tonnibel. 
 
 "And you've told my cousins, eh*?" he asked 
 hopelessly. 
 
 "No, I didn't," denied Tony. "I 'spose mebbe 
 I would have, but I didn't know you belonged 
 here. I knew you used to steal with my daddy 
 and do all sorts of wicked things " 
 
 Mrs. Curtis cried out again. 
 
 "But I didn't know you'd try to kill a poor sick 
 man," Tony went on, "and then send you ma to 
 get money of him." 
 
 "You'll tell him, I know you will, you terrible 
 girl," screamed Katherine, no longer able to re- 
 strain herself. 
 
 Tonnibel thought quickly. Cousin Paul Pendle- 
 haven lived in the house with an enemy who had 
 tried to take his life. This same enemy had tried 
 to destroy her too. 
 
 "You said he was going away*?" she questioned 
 Mrs. Curtis presently. "Didn't you?"
 
 242 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "If I get money," put in Reggie, drearily, "I 
 will." 
 
 "Dr. Paul wants to see you, ma'am," said 
 Tonnibel, her dark gray eyes fixed on the woman, 
 "and if he goes," she pointed at Reginald, "and 
 stays a long time, I'll keep mum. See?" 
 
 Completely overlooking Katherine, Tony ran 
 out of the room. The next day she didn't look up 
 when she heard Dr. John tell Dr. Paul that 
 Reginald had left Ithaca. When she peeped at 
 Dr. Paul, he smiled at her.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A WILL IS CHANGED 
 
 THE two years that had passed since Tony 
 Devon had entered the Pendlehaven home, the 
 greater part of which she had spent in school, had 
 brought about many changes. Paul Pendlehaven 
 had taken his place among the world's workers, 
 but this does not say that he did not still long for 
 the child who had gone from his life eighteen years 
 before. After Tony had come to him out of the 
 underworld, and he had watched the fair young 
 girl struggling away from her environment 
 through suffering and sacrifice, he had come to the 
 conclusion that self-pity had been the instrument 
 which had felled him almost to his grave. By 
 casting aside thoughts of himself and his loss, he 
 had been lifted from a sick bed into a normal and 
 really useful life. 
 
 Mrs. Curtis was no nearer giving Cousin John 
 to Katherine as a father than she ever had been, 
 
 243
 
 24>4i The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 and Ithaca had caught no sight of Reginald Brown 
 since he had fled from it with the notion that he 
 might follow Uriah Devon behind the prison bars. 
 Philip had carried on his wonderful work, living 
 in the joyous letters he received from Tony and 
 spending his spare time in answering them. 
 
 One morning Tony came to Paul Pendlehavrn, 
 smiling and blushingly girlish, and he motioned 
 her to a little stool at his feet. 
 
 "Darling," he began in a moved tone, "I sent 
 for you because I've come to perhaps the most im- 
 portant decision of my whole life." 
 
 Tony glanced up at him wonderingly. He ap- 
 peared solemnly sober and looked as if he hadn't 
 slept. 
 
 "If it affects me, Cousin Paul, it can't be 
 greater than the one you made over two years ago 
 when you took poor little me into your home," 
 she asserted. 
 
 His hand fell lovingly upon her curly head as 
 though in benediction. 
 
 "Yes, much greater, my sweet. I was selfish 
 then ! I needed you more than I ever knew at that 
 time, and Heaven knows that was enough. I
 
 A Will Is Changed 245 
 
 shouldn't have been here to-day, if it hadn't been 
 for you." 
 
 Tony snatched the hand that caressed her hair 
 and pressed it to her lips. 
 
 "You make too much of the little I did " she 
 smiled. "I I- 
 
 "Don't forget Gussie Piglet," added Pendle- 
 haven, and they both laughed. "Gussie was a nice 
 little girl, but not so nice as her adopted mother." 
 
 They both lapsed into a long silence, the girl's 
 dreamy eyes fixed on space, and the man gazing at 
 her shining head. 
 
 "Tony," he ejaculated at length. There was 
 something in his voice as he pronounced her name 
 that dispelled her revery instantly. 
 
 "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, what is it?" 
 
 Pendlehaven cleared his throat. 
 
 "I would never have believed that any one 
 could have wormed her way into my heart as you 
 have," he told her. "How would how would you 
 like me for your father*?" 
 
 Tony tried to speak but, seeing he had some- 
 thing else to add, waited expectantly. 
 
 "Once, as you know," went on the doctor, "I
 
 246 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 had a little girl of my own, but the years have 
 been so long and so many since she was taken 
 away, I feel I shan't have her again in this world." 
 
 Tony's dark head dropped against his knee in 
 siknt sympathy. 
 
 "Could you think of me as your father, dear 1 ?" 
 he said after an emotional silence. 
 
 "I'm not fit for that," sighed Tony. "No, no. 
 not that! Wait, wait, and I'll tell you why." 
 
 Paul Pendlehaven sat very quiet until she man- 
 aged to clear the tears from her voice and take up 
 again, "It's like this. I come from people who are 
 not your kind, Cousin Paul. You know that ! 
 Everybody does! Then I'm not so good as you 
 think I am. First of all I haven't always told you 
 the truth." 
 
 "So my brother told me," remarked Dr. Paul. 
 "Long ago he took me into his confidence about 
 the poison in my medicine, and the wistaria 
 you plucked the morning after." A whimsical tone 
 crept into his voice as he spoke. Then he went on 
 earnestly, "I've watched you for two years, Tony, 
 and it seems to me that I know every secret of 
 your soul."
 
 A Will Is Changed 247 
 
 "No, you don't," faltered the girl. "You can't 
 imagine any one thinking thoughts like I have." 
 
 "Perhaps not," returned the doctor. "Are you 
 going to tell me*?" 
 
 Tony considered the rug at her feet a few min- 
 utes without even seeing it. 
 
 "I've tried to ever since I came home from 
 school," she trembled. "Every time I was with 
 
 you, but I I ' She looked up at his face 
 
 searchingly. "I guess it was because I loved you 
 so," she went on bravely. "I used to pray you'd 
 never get your little girl back." Her voice sank to 
 a whisper. "I thought I thought you wouldn't 
 want me, but now I ask God every time she comes 
 into my mind, to bring her back and to make me 
 a better girl." 
 
 Pendlehaven considered the upturned face a 
 few moments. 
 
 "I think that was quite natural," he said at 
 length. "I can't blame you at all. I'm sure you 
 love me, dear child!" 
 
 "And you'll forgive me 1 ?" asked the girl, breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 "More than that," was the reply. "I'm going to
 
 248 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 adopt you legally for my daughter. After this I'm 
 your father, and I give warning to my Captain 
 MacCauley that if he tries to take you from me, 
 he's going to have some fight on his hands." 
 
 "Isn't he wonderful, Cousin Paul?" she de- 
 manded, blushing. 
 
 Not answering her question, he touched her 
 dimpled chin with two fingers. 
 
 "What did you call me?" he demanded soberly. 
 "From now on, I'm not Cousin Paul. I am 
 what?" 
 
 "My father," gulped Tony. 'It seems as if I 
 couldn't stand so much happiness. And if you're 
 my father, that makes Cousin John " 
 
 "Your uncle," laughed a voice from the door. 
 "So Paul has told you, has he, little girl? Well, 
 Tony, you wouldn't have slept a wink one night if 
 you'd heard our argument about you. We spent 
 several hours wrangling which of us should adopt 
 you. I said I should because I saw you first, and 
 Paul " 
 
 "Has the prior right because you saved me, 
 Tony," interrupted Paul. "Now I think the fam- 
 ily had better know of our changed arrangements."
 
 A Will Is Changed 249 
 
 Paul Pendlehaven acted as spokesman when 
 Mrs. Curtis and her daughter, Katherine, had been 
 summoned to the library. He told them very 
 gravely that as his will now stood, his brother, 
 John, and his cousin, Sarah, were the beneficiaries 
 of it. Mrs. Curtis smiled at him and arranged the 
 lace ruffles around her neck. 
 
 "You've always been most generous, Paul 
 dear," she simpered. 
 
 "But now," went on the doctor, paying no heed 
 to the lady's remark, "our household's going to 
 have a mistress." 
 
 Katherine lifted her chin from the palm of her 
 hand, and Mrs. Curtis straightened up. Were her 
 ambitions going to be realized after all? Was it 
 Paul who was going to put her in her rightful 
 place? The smile broadened on her lips, and she 
 sank back with a happy sigh. She had to admit 
 Cousin Paul looked very handsome, yes, even 
 handsomer than Cousin John. What a fool she 
 had been not to have caught him sooner. 
 
 "The woman you put at the head of your home 
 will be most fortunate and happy, dear Paul," she 
 murmured.
 
 250 The Xhadw uf the Slidtcrixr/ Pines 
 
 "I hope so," returned Pendlehaven, and Dr. 
 John pulled at the corners of his mouth to keep 
 back a malicious grin. 
 
 "I'm going to adopt Tony Devon Dr. 
 
 Paul had only time enough to make this statement 
 when Mrs. Curtis jumped to her feet. 
 
 "You couldn't do that!" she cried. "That 
 would be wicked, Paul, absolutely wicked! Oh 
 God, don't do that !" 
 
 Then in spite of himself, Cousin John laughed. 
 He was hugely enjoying Sarah's humiliation and 
 the sight of Katherine's dark, enraged face. 
 
 Without heeding in the slightest his cousin's 
 bitter ejaculation, Paul Pendlehaven picked up a 
 box that lay at his elbow. With much ceremony 
 he opened it and took out an exquisite pearl neck- 
 lace. 
 
 "I do not need to remind any of you," he said, 
 turning his eyes from his brother to his two white- 
 faced cousins, "that these belonged to my dear 
 wife. I have always considered them the property 
 of her daughter too. That is the reason, Katherine, 
 why I've always refused your request to wear 
 them. But now I have a daughter." He turned
 
 A Will Is Changed 851 
 
 smiling eyes upon Tonnibel. "I shall allow her 
 to wear them whenever she wishes, and if if her 
 lost sister isn't found, then they are hers hers 
 forever." 
 
 A long hissing breath broke from Sarah Curtis, 
 and a gasp came from Katherine. 
 
 "I couldn't wear them," Tony got out at 
 length, "I simply couldn't." 
 
 "Not to please me, your father, Tonnibel *?" de- 
 manded Paul, almost brusquely. 
 
 "And me, your new uncle*?" laughed Dr. 
 John. "Why, honey, little girl," he reached out 
 and took Tonnibel's hand, "don't look as if you'd 
 lost your last friend !" 
 
 Then Paul Pendlehaven drew Tonnibel Devon 
 to his side, and, when he had clasped the jewels 
 around her neck, he lifted her face and kissed her. 
 
 "There, little daughter!" His voice choked 
 with emotion, but he conquered his feelings and 
 went on, "they're very lovely, very precious, Tony, 
 doubly so because you're wearing them.'* 
 
 "Oh," she exulted, "how happy I am! ... It 
 isn't the pearls, though they're simply great, but 
 it's that I have some real people." She turned a
 
 252 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Mushed and radiant face to each man. "Somebody 
 that's my very own. My mother's dead, and my 
 father- 
 
 "Is in prison," snapped Mrs. Curtis, vindictive- 
 ly. "I'm wondering what he'll say to all this 
 when he cornes home." 
 
 "His opinion won't make any difference to us," 
 Paul Pendlehaven stated coolly. "He has forfeit- 
 ed every right to any claim on Tony." 
 
 "Hideous!" exclaimed Mrs. Curtis, and "Well, 
 I never," dropped from Katherine. 
 
 "And," went on Dr. Paul, relentlessly, for 
 he knew the barbs that were being thrust into the 
 souls of his two cousins, 4 Tm going to change my 
 will in favor of my new daughter here 
 
 f( And I mine in favor of our young Salvation 
 Army Captain who is going to marry my new 
 niece," chuckled Dr. John. "I guess that's all 
 we have to say, Paul." 
 
 In silence Katherine and Mrs. Curtis faded from 
 the room, carry-ing with them bitter humiliation 
 and nursing outraged feelings. 
 
 "It's all your fault, mamma," scolded Kath- 
 erine, bursting into tears when they were in the
 
 A Will Is Changed 2-53 
 
 seclusion of their own apartments. "You've 
 whined and wept yourself right out of Cousin 
 John's life, that's what you've done. God, how 
 I hated that girl when I saw Caroline's pearls 
 around her neck!" 
 
 "What are you doing now?" thrust back her 
 mother. "Aren't you crying as if your heart would 
 break? I tell you tears " 
 
 "Oh Lordy, tears! What good do they do?" 
 came sharply. "Here we are without a future, 
 without a home ! That interloper will see we go 
 the moment Paul gets out those papers! Oh, 
 what shall we do?" 
 
 "I wish that man her father, I mean was out 
 of jail," mused Mrs. Curtis. "I really believe he 
 could do something, Kathie. Perhaps, Reg- 
 gie " 
 
 Katherine wiped her eyes with a sudden move- 
 ment. 
 
 "Mamma, why don't you send for Reggie?" 
 she questioned. "Now, listen to me. Reggie con- 
 fided in me before he left that he really was fond 
 
 of that girl, and if Oh, mamma, I've thought 
 
 of a wonderful thing. Send for Rege, shove tht
 
 254 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pinet 
 
 girl under his nose every minute. Let him cut 
 Philip out- 
 
 "And, perhaps, have my son marry that thing," 
 objected the mother, curtly. 
 
 "That thing, as you please to call Tony Devon, 
 is one of the prettiest and richest young women in 
 this county," Katherine snapped back. "She's 
 heiress to the Pendlehavens, and engaged to be 
 married to a man who owns half the town. Thing, 
 eh 1 ? Well, I think she's a little higher up in the 
 world at this moment than my half-brother, Reg- 
 gie, if you want my opinion." 
 
 That night an urgent message from his frantic 
 mother traveled by wire to Reginald Curtis, sum- 
 moning him home.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE LAST CARD 
 
 ONE day some weeks later, Reginald Brown 
 walked rapidly along the Boulevard past the row 
 of squatter shacks and paused in front of the Sal- 
 vation Army quarters. His brow grew dark, and 
 a hateful expression settled on his face and stayed 
 there as he swung swiftly on. That day he had 
 received word that Uriah Devon, released from 
 prison, would anchor the "Dirty Mary'* near the 
 Hoghole in her accustomed place. 
 
 Devon was on deck when Brown ran up the 
 gangplank. 
 
 "So you came, old top," was Uriah's greeting. 
 "It's good you did; I want to know what's doin'." 
 
 A woman came to the door of the cabin and 
 peered out. When she saw the newcomer, she 
 scowled and went back. 
 
 "I thought you said he was dead," commented
 
 256 TJie Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Reggie, with a wag of his head toward the spot 
 where the woman had stood. 
 
 "Well, she ain't ! Worse luck!" growled Uriah. 
 "I told that to the kid to make her feel bad. Ede 
 was willing to be dead for a while anyhow. 
 What's the news of Tony?" 
 
 "Oh, she's a lady now," answered Reggie, sar- 
 castically. "The Pendlehavens have sent her to 
 school ever since you went away. Devon, I swear 
 to God, she's the prettiest girl in the world, and 
 my mother tells me Paul Pendlehaven's going to 
 adopt her. As it is, he's given her a fortune in 
 jewels and clothes. The mater's furious!" Reggie 
 lifted heavy eyes to his companion's face. "And 
 what do you think else*?" he demanded. 
 
 "I dunno," grunted the other. "Good God ! 
 Don't sit there tearin' me to pieces with curiosity. 
 Fire ahead, and tell me." 
 
 "She's copped Phil MacCauley," returned Reg- 
 inald; "Ithaca's snob of a Salvation Army Cap- 
 tain, the fellow who threw me in the lake that day, 
 and he's as rich as the Pendlehavens put together. 
 Katherine's almost crazy over it," he continued, 
 seeing Devon still in a listening attitude; "but
 
 The Last Card 257 
 
 she doesn't feel any worse about it than I do." 
 Reggie spoke the last words in a high-pitched, 
 angry voice. 
 
 "Well, he won't get 'er," asserted Uriah, sharp- 
 ly. "I've told you the girl's rich too. Her father's 
 got money to burn." 
 
 "A lot of good that'll do you, Ry," sneered Reg- 
 gie. "She wouldn't look at the likes of you and 
 Edith. You aren't in her class any more." 
 
 "Ain't I so?" queried Devon, grouchily. "I 
 reckon her hide ain't no tougher nor thicker'n it 
 used to be. I'll thump hell out of 'er once or 
 twice; I'll show 'er what class she's in." 
 
 While he had been speaking, the younger man 
 had drawn a case from his pocket and opened it. 
 Pausing in the act of selecting a cigarette, he 
 laughed maliciously. 
 
 "You'll have to catch her before you beat he*, 
 won't you, Ry?" he inquired tauntingly. "How're 
 you going to get your hands on her? Tell me that, 
 will you?" 
 
 "Yep, Mr. Mealy-mouth, I will," thrust back 
 Devon. "We got to steal 'er." He clenched his 
 heavy fist and swung it menacingly and suggestive-
 
 258 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 ly. "What's left of 'er when I'm done with 'er '11 
 marry you all right. That over, I'll tell 'er who 
 ihe is, providin' you promise to halve up the stuff 
 with me." 
 
 "I did promise you once, didn't I'?" asked Reg- 
 gie, sulkily. "Of course, I will, but what's the 
 use of dreaming? The Pendlehavens 're too much 
 for us. Now that Paul's well, he and John are a 
 big team, and they worship the ground that girl 
 walks on. You're biting off more'n you can chew, 
 Ry. You aren't any too strong, you know. A 
 prison record doesn't help any." 
 
 Uriah grunted and followed a ring of smoke 
 with his frowning eyes. 
 
 "She's my girl," he said at length, "and I'm 
 goin' to have 'er." 
 
 "I thought you said she wasn't," put in Reggie, 
 suspiciously. 
 
 "Well, she don't know that, does she*?" Devon 
 retorted. "Nobody knows but you and Ede, be- 
 rfftes me." 
 
 "She's a beauty," sighed Reggie, his voice low- 
 red to a growl. "I'd marry her if she didn't have 
 *eent"
 
 The Last Card 250 
 
 Devon laughed shortly. 
 
 "You don't need to make any such sacrifice, old 
 horse," said he. "Your eyes will bung out of your 
 head when you hear her name." 
 
 Reginald argued, he should know who the girl 
 was before he married her, but Uriah wouldn't 
 give up his secret. Instead, he unfolded to the 
 prospective husband how he planned to capture 
 Tonnibel and sent Reggie away convinced, red hot 
 to perform his part in the scheme. At last, he 
 was to have the girl he wanted and money too. 
 
 The next morning Reggie approached his 
 mother with an air of secrecy. 
 
 "A minute, mater," he said softly. "Just a 
 minute! I've seen Tony Devon's father. There! 
 Now sit down, old lady, while I tell you some- 
 thing." 
 
 "Good ! Tell me about it. He'll do something, 
 won't he?" Mrs. Curtis took her son's hand and 
 squeezed it. "Tell me, sweet boy!" 
 
 "Ry says the only way is to kidnap her bodily 
 and force her to marry the man he promised her 
 to," the boy explained. "What do you think of 
 that?"
 
 260 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "Paul would kill him," gasped Mrs. Curtis, her 
 eyes taking on an expression of fear. 
 
 "He won't have a chance if Devon works our 
 his present scheme," replied Reggie, "but you and 
 Kathie have to help us." 
 
 In the terror that overtook her, Mrs. Curti> 
 shook her head. 
 
 "I don't want anything to do with it," she ob- 
 jected, wobbling in tears. "We'd lose our homr. 
 Paul and John would turn us out. They've 
 threatened to many a time !" 
 
 "Well, when I assure you our beloved cousins 
 won't know anything about it, not even after it's 
 over, won't you try to help us?" queried the young 
 man. "Now, if it goes through all right, you 
 catch Cousin John on the rebound, and Kathie'd 
 be sure to rope in Phil." 
 
 "What joy that would be!" ejaculated Mrs. 
 Curtis. "What about it?" 
 
 Then Reggie told her, in very low tones, the 
 plan they had concocted. 
 
 "You talk it over with Kathie," he advised, 
 lighting a cigarette, "and you'll have to see 
 about the money."
 
 The Last Card 261 
 
 "I'll get it for him if I have to sell my jewels 
 and Kathie's too," promised the woman, her eyes 
 sparkling in anticipation. ''I'll go and tell her 
 right away." 
 
 Meanwhile, all unconscious that Uriah Devon 
 had been released from prison and was conspiring 
 against her, Tonnibel Devon was entering heart 
 and soul into the Salvation Army work with 
 Philip. Each evening she went with him to head- 
 quarters where her fresh, young voice and her 
 kindliness drew many a poor soul for comfort and 
 courage. 
 
 One week after Reginald Curtis had confided 
 kis secret to his mother, and she had told it over 
 again in whispers to Katherine, at an hour when 
 the Pcndlehaven brothers were absent, Uriah 
 Devon came quietly to the house. Reggie met him 
 and took him immediately to Mrs. Curtis' room. 
 
 When she gazed with widening eyes on the 
 dark, swollen face, puffed lids and pale eyes, she 
 shuddered. If she'd had any mother-feeling in her 
 heart, she would have banished the wish to put 
 pretty Tonnibel into his hands. 
 
 Uriah paused embarrassedly before her, made
 
 262 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 4 curt bow and twisted his cap between his fingers. 
 
 "Sit down, Ry," invited Reggie. "Now tell my 
 mother how you are going to carry this thing out." 
 
 Uriah sat on the edge of a chair. 
 
 "I ain't goin' to do anything, or tell what I'm 
 goin' to do, till I get the money," he said crisply. 
 "I've got to have five thousand dollars first." 
 
 "Five thousand dollars, old lady," grinned Reg- 
 gie, turning to his mother. "You'll have to cough 
 up. . . . Now, for God's sake, don't cry! Dig!" 
 
 "I'll need the whole five thousand to get 'cr 
 away, and to keep 'er after I get 'er. She'd comr 
 streakin' back if I don't rope 'er up." 
 
 "I'll get the money for you to-morrow," sighed 
 Mrs. Curtis, wiping her eyes, "and you mustn't 
 come here when my cousins are home." She re- 
 lapsed into silence and then added : "I warn yo 
 against against Philip MacCauley too."
 
 CHAPTER XXT 
 
 A WEDDING TO BE 
 
 MRS. CURTIS had been all eyes and ears for even 
 the slightest happening in the Pendlehaven home, 
 since she had almost stripped her jewel-box and 
 Katherine's to get the money Tony's father de- 
 manded. Now she had it tucked away, ready to 
 deliver it, but as the time went by and she had 
 no chance to send for Uriah to come for his daugh- 
 ter, she began to give up hope that the house 
 would ever be rid of the presence which was a 
 constant thorn in her flesh. But it does seem that 
 sooner or later Fate plays the lucky cards into the 
 hands of the undeserving, and so it happened in 
 the case of the conspirators against Tonnibel 
 Devon. Like all things waited for, the opportunity 
 eame one day while the family was at dinner. 
 
 Philip MacCauley entered in great excitement. 
 
 "You look as if you had swallowed the sun, my 
 dear lad," smiled Dr. Paul.
 
 204 The Shadow of the Sheltering 
 
 "I've got to go away," flushed the boy, laugk- 
 ing, "and I won't go alone." He gazed meaningly 
 at Tonnibel. "Pardon my rushing in this way, but 
 but I want Tony to go with me." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis flashed him a dark look. He rarely 
 paid her, or her frowning daughter, any attention 
 nowadays, so he did not notice that a pallor 
 settled on Katherine's face, or that her fork fell 
 from her limp fingers to her plate. Hie mother 
 saw her daughter's mental distress, however, and 
 studied the young man's face, groaning to herself. 
 He had grown so manly and hand.-ome in the past 
 two years, and he was the one person she desired 
 for her son-in-law. He was rich too, which only 
 added to his attractivene-s. 
 
 "You might explain a little more, my boy," 
 Dr. John spoke up in a deep voice. 
 
 An embarrassed laugh fell from Philip's lips. 
 
 "There isn't any secret about it." he answered. 
 "Fin going abroad for the Salvation Army for a 
 year, longer perhaps, and it would be too much to 
 ask me to go all by myself." 
 
 Lines appeared between Dr. Paul's brows. 
 At last the day had come when he must give p
 
 A Wedding to Be 2G5 
 
 the girl who had taken a rare place among those 
 he held dearest. He noticed with a quick sigh 
 that Tony's eyes deepened softly, and her red 
 lips were parted in a smile. 
 
 "It'll hurry up our marriage a little," Philip 
 continued, ''but but ' 
 
 The sound of a chair scraping back from the 
 table broke off his statement. 
 
 "Then we'll adjourn and talk it over," remarked 
 Dr. John. "You ask a mighty big thing, Phil, 
 when you demand our little girl without more 
 warning." 
 
 "Little girl," sneered Mrs. Curtis, after the 
 four had left the dining-room. She started to say 
 something else, but her daughter's terrible out- 
 burst stopped her. 
 
 Til die ! Oh, mj God, I'll die if they go away 
 together," she moaned. "Mother, if you possibly 
 can, do something! Do something for me!" 
 
 It happened, much to Mrs. Curtis' surprise, 
 that Dr. John sought her out within the hour. 
 
 "Those children have won Paul and me over, 
 Sarah," he said a little grimly. "They're going 
 to kc Married a week from to-day. It won't be
 
 266 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pinet 
 
 much trouble to prepare the house, will it? You 
 needn't make a fuss. It'll be very quiet. Tony 
 can buy everything she needs in New York on 
 her honeymoon." 
 
 In the rage that overtook her, Mrs. Curtis 
 wished the speaker dead at her feet. 
 
 "The house isn't mine, Cousin John," she said 
 maliciously, "but, of course, I'll do what I can, 
 although Katherine isn't at all well. I fear the 
 child is going to be ill." 
 
 Dr. John found Katherine with her ryes dull 
 and heavy, prescribed for her, and, before leaving 
 the room, announced : 
 
 "Paul and I are going over to Syracuse to- 
 morrow afternoon to make a few purchases, but 
 we'll be back on the night train. Stay in bed, 
 Kathie, until morning, and you'll be all right." 
 
 The moment he had disappeared, Katherine 
 prang up. 
 
 "To-morrow they're going away! You heard, 
 you heard, mother?" she cried. "Now then, 
 where's Reggie?" 
 
 "Darling," advised Mrs. Curtis, moved to 
 tears by her daughter's distress, "I hare a pro
 
 A Wedding to Be 267 
 
 monition! We'd better not interfere at all. Oh, 
 child, if you could only get your mind of? that 
 boy ! He isn't worthy of a love like yours. 
 We've got a nice home 
 
 "Nice home!" hurled back Katherine, wildly. 
 "Nice home! Look what she's got! Just think 
 of her and then of me ! Oh, God, that such 
 misery could be in the world! I'll never forgive 
 you, mamma, if you don't keep your promise to 
 me. You've said a thousand times, she should 
 leave this house, and she's still here. You 
 promised me I'd have Philip, and she's got him. 
 I hate you and everybody else." 
 
 "Don't say that, darling, don't," groaned Mrs. 
 Curtis. I'll see your brother, and who knows," 
 she brightened and smiled through her tears, 
 "who knows but what that horrid girl will be 
 gone by to-morrow night*?"
 
 CH.MTKU XXVI 
 
 IN Till DALANC] 
 
 RI:C;INAI.D BROWN and I'riah Devon were 
 ited in i io.se conference along the path that led 
 to the ''Dirty Mary." Reginald had rehearsed 
 ,;. : he had learned trom his mother. 
 
 ''Unless we do it tonight, Hy, .said he, "it's 
 ail up. Both my cousins will be away hours, and 
 MacCaule's bus in the evenin. What do ou 
 
 I'riah broke off a blade of grass and drew it 
 with a squeak through his crooked teeth. 
 
 "We'll get the kid," he snarled. 
 
 "Mother's awful worried though," Reggie con- 
 tinued, "but as I told her, 'No risk, no gain,' and 
 I'd go a long ways on the road of risk to get Ton- 
 nibel Devon." 
 
 "Well, we'll get ? er," monotoned Uriah, with 
 a far-awa look in his blood-shot eyes.
 
 In the Balance 2(51) 
 
 "After I'm married to her," took up the boy. 
 ''you'll tell me who she is, eh?" 
 
 "Yep," replied Uriah, "I'm goin' down to the 
 scow now. Good-by, and be sure to tell your 
 mother to put up the sign we spoke of if every- 
 thing's clear for me to butt in." 
 
 Edith Devon looked up from the boat deck as 
 her husband approached. He sat down on the 
 bench beside her, a grizzly smile on his face. 
 
 "Ede," he asked, ''seen any change in me 
 lately?" 
 
 "Yes, I have," she returned. "You ain't booz- 
 in' half so much, and you've been kinder and 
 better-hearted to me." 
 
 "Mebbe it's because I've got religion,'' Uriah 
 explained finally. Edith's exclamation halted his 
 statement, but he went on hurriedly: "Religion 
 makes a man repent of all his cussed acts. I'm 
 sorry now, Ede, for the way I've treated you and 
 the kid." 
 
 He couldn't have uttered words more welcome 
 to Edith Devon. For the first time in years, she 
 leaned her head against him. It took some effort 
 on the man's part not to shove her away.
 
 270 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 "And matters have took a mighty big change 
 in the last two days," he continued. "Ede, I 
 know, for years you been worryin' your life out 
 about Tony. I fixed it up." 
 
 Mrs. Devon was on her feet almost before the 
 last words fell from her husband's lips. 
 
 "How fixed it up, RiahV" she gasped. 
 
 "Now don't get panicky if I tell you some- 
 thing," Uriah cautioned her, slyly, "but I went 
 to Pendlehaven and told him 1 copped the kid, 
 and not you, and I says: 'Mr. Pendlehaven, 
 you've had 'er for over two years, and she's your 
 brat. Now keep 'er!" 
 
 Edith fell back on the bench as if the man had 
 dealt her a blow. 
 
 "Uriah, honey," she breathed, but Devon bade 
 her be silent. 
 
 "The kid's awful fond of you," he continued 
 impressively, "and I up and told 'er you wa* 
 livin', and to-night you're goin' to see 'er." 
 
 Edith began to sob hysterically, and, forcing 
 himself to the act, Devon placed his arm around 
 her. 
 
 "She's goin' to get married to a rich young
 
 771 
 
 feller," he went on, "and now I'm glad she didn't 
 marry Regc. Gettin' religion makes a man over 
 somehow, and he sees things with another light 
 on 'em. I'm goin' to take you away somewheres 
 and begin all over again. Ain't you glad, EdeV" 
 
 Wasn't she glad! No words could express 
 Edith's ieelings at that moment. How many 
 times her heart had ached ior a sight ot the 
 pretty child she'd had so many years. 
 
 "Didn't Pendlehaven say nothin' about send- 
 ing us up for it'* 1 " she asked timidly. 
 
 "Not a thing," retorted Uriah. "Not by a 
 damned sight, he didn't! I told him I knew you 
 when you lived at his house, that you loved the 
 kid so, and when I saw you cryin' about leavin' 
 her, I up and stole 'er. He was too glad to know 
 Tony was his, to make any fuss. Anyhow, she 
 wouldn't let 'im. Why, my God! That little 
 kid kissed me!" 
 
 Edith exclaimed in delight. 
 
 "I've told you more'n once, Uriah," she said, 
 leaning against him again,- "Tony'd like you if 
 you'd let 'er. When we goin' to see 'er, Ry*?" 
 
 "Oh, after a while," aid he. "After supper!
 
 -ll'> The Shadoic of the Slu'lieriny /Y\w 
 
 .'.lowered Kdit ' 
 
 \ his u'i if. I riah I)t:\'c)ii 
 i "Din \ \Lir\ " for sonic v> < 
 .-i Kdirh in her thoughts thai 
 laid no tieetl r<> her husband's sly actions. 
 knew i hey would not dare to return to rh<- : 
 v .vif.h I'ony until alter ^he had bf'n torctd ' * 
 marry Reginald Brown. I 'riah would ,:!. 
 .r.i%c abandoned hi- \vite tore\'cr, bur ;n ma 
 his f)lans, had foreseen that, n tliev nier with 
 much opposition trom Tonnibel, the woman, 
 under his threat-, could handle her. At nine 
 o'clock they started tor Ithaca, I'riah carrj'inc a 
 imall black bag. and in hi- pocket Ins revolver. 
 
 They entered lYndlehaven Place through th- 
 service gate, and, when they passed the garag' 1 , 
 the man noticed with satisfaction that Reginald'- 
 automobile was standing ready for use. Close to 
 the mansion, he placed his wife out of sight under 
 a rose bush. 
 
 "I'm goin' in and get Tony. Ede," lie ex-
 
 In the Balance 273 
 
 plained. "'Twas a promise I give the kid, she 
 could see you alone first." 
 
 He cast his eye over the house as he spoke. 
 The one light gleaming from the library window, 
 Mrs. Curtis' promised sign, told him the coast 
 was clear. lie had every confidence the affair 
 would turn out advantageously for him. He 
 would have his revenge on the Pendlehavens, 
 besides obtaining all the money he wanted. After 
 Reggie's marriage to Tony, and the girl had been 
 perfectly subdued, he would begin negotiating 
 with Paul Pcndlehaven. Money! Uriah took a 
 long breath. Money was his god, and he im- 
 agined he could never have enough of it. 
 
 "Just sit here, 'til I come back, Ede," he re- 
 marked. "You don't want to see Pendlehaven, 
 eh?" 
 
 Edith shuddered and shrank back. 
 
 "No, I don't, 11 she whispered. "I just want to 
 talk to the baby a minute. I want her to forgive 
 me before we go away. We been cussed mean 
 to that little kid, Uriah." 
 
 Devon made a grunting assent, left Edith sit-
 
 274 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 ring hx:hind the rose bush and slipped up the steps 
 oi the house. 
 
 A little while before, Reggie Brown, well filled 
 up on brandy, had descended to the library to 
 wait for Devon. It he hadn't had this tiling on, 
 and the importance of it hadn't weighed on him 
 all the long clay, he'd have gone to bed, his tiead 
 ached so, but his desire to capture Tony Devon 
 kept the fumes of alcohol trom completely be- 
 fuddling his brains. Inside the library, he stood 
 -^waving near the door, tapping his pocket from 
 rime to time to make sure he was armed. Then 
 he stumbled across the room, threw himself MI 
 the divan and in another moment had forgotten 
 in a drunken sleep that there wag any such per- 
 son in the world as Tonnibel Devon. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mrs. Curtis was walking the floor 
 upstairs, lialf mad with anxiety, and Katherine, 
 in a state of nerves, was coking one cigarette 
 ut ter another. 
 
 "God! When she's gone/' broke forth the girl, 
 "'I'll know what happiness means!" 
 
 "So will I." echoed Mrs. Curtis. "It's
 
 In the Balance 275 
 
 time for me to go down, isn't it 4 ? I hope that 
 man won't disappoint us." 
 
 "Don't fear about that," sneered Katherine. 
 "He's even more anxious than we are. So's Reg- 
 gie, but I don't envy you telling Tony her 
 mother's alive." 
 
 "I think you might do it," complained Mrs. 
 Curtis, with a sniffle. "All the anxiety and worry 
 of this thing has fallen on me." 
 
 "That's because you're so clever, my sweet," 
 retorted Katherine, sarcastically. "Oh, go on 
 down, and don't act as if you were afraid of 
 your own shadow. Say, Rege was drunk as any- 
 thing at dinner." 
 
 "Disgustingly so," sighed the mother as she 
 went out. "I hope to the high heavens, he'll 
 straighten up some day." 
 
 First Mrs. Curtis stole down to the library. 
 There she found Uriah Devon, standing with his 
 hat in his hand, and, as he saw her, he made a 
 grinning bow. 
 
 "Where's Rege?" he asked eagerly. 
 
 "Upstairs, I think," replied Mrs. Curtis, in a
 
 270 The Shades (if the Sheltering Pines 
 
 !o\v voice, "lie's had too much ro drink. Dv! 
 you bring your witeV" 
 
 "Yep, she's outside," \va- the man's answer. 
 "And the kid' 1 ! Doe- she know Kde's -till in rh( 
 land of flic livm' V" 
 
 "No. hut I'll tell her now." rerurncd M~ 
 I'urti-, de>perately. "Here'.- the five thou 
 dollar.-." She thru-t a roll oT hank note- into his 
 hand. "I'll -end Tonv right down." ended 
 woman, and -he went swiftly out. 
 
 l : riah glanced about the room in anticip.. 
 Me intended not only to take Ton}' with : 
 but everything else of value he could L-v rm 
 hand> on. Edith had otten described the val- 
 uables kept in a wall-sate in this very room. Mr-. 
 Curtis had no more than closed the door before. 
 revolver in hand, he began his search. An excla- 
 mation of delight almost escaped his lips when 
 he discovered the safe-door was unlocked. He 
 grinned at the carelessness of the rich as he f; 
 into the black bag the boxes of jewelry, com- 
 pletely stripping the safe of its contents. H 
 didn't take time to look over his haul ! Thar 
 would come later.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 "POOR LITTLE MOTHER" 
 
 ALL through the day, Tonnibel Devon had 
 told her joy over and over to herself. Now, al- 
 most read\- to retire, she was sitting reading the 
 Bible. It seemed mast appropriate that on this 
 night, she >hould sing with the Poet, the Psalms 
 of Thanksgiving. 
 
 "Stand still, and see the Salvation of the 
 Lord," met her eyes. She smiled, as she remem- 
 bered how crudely she had often used those 
 blessed words. Time after time, in desperate 
 need, she had flung them into the heart of the 
 Infinite, and even now when she was older and 
 wiser, she realized the efficacy of prayer and good 
 deeds. 
 
 A knock at the door caused her to close the 
 book and put it on the table before she called: 
 'Come in." 
 
 277
 
 278 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 At the sight of Mrs. Curtis, she rose to her feet. 
 startled. 
 
 "I've good news for you. child." choked the 
 \vonian, and Ton}' went lorward eagerly. She 
 had lost her tear of the haughtv matron, and of 
 late had accepted her tolerance as. perhaps, the 
 only consideration she could ever get. 
 
 "WhatV" she demanded. "Is Philip 
 
 "Now, don't get nervous, my dear." came in 
 quivering interruption, "but but you were not 
 correctly informed about your mother. She> 
 she's downstairs." 
 
 A violent emotion overtook the girl. She knew 
 then she had never really believed what Uriah 
 told her. 
 
 "My mother!" she breathed, her eyes deepen- 
 ing in color. "My dear little mother! Oh, let 
 me go to her!" 
 
 Thinking of her own daughter, Mrs. Curtis 
 steeled herself against a desire to blurt out the 
 danger Tonnibel stood in. The gray eyes seemed 
 to be searching the Innermost recesses of her soul. 
 Compelling her gaze to remain on the girl, she 
 told her:
 
 "Poor Little Mother" 279 
 
 "She's in the library. This is a happy day for 
 you, my dear for all of us. You'd better 
 dress, hadn't you*?" 
 
 Tonnibel hadn't even heard the last words. 
 She fled down the stairs and into the library, 
 panting for breath. Her cup of happiness was 
 full to the brim, now that Edith had come back 
 to her. She halted, closed the door and ran into 
 the room. 
 
 "Edie, mummy dear!" she called softly, so 
 orercome she could not raise her voice. 
 
 Then Uriah Devon stepped from behind the 
 grate-screen and came towards her. 
 
 "Daddy," cried the girl, "where's mummy'? 
 Where's my mother'?" 
 
 Uriah dropped the bag and laid the revolver 
 on a chair. He had never seen such a vision of 
 loveliness. The masses of dark curls flung over 
 the flimsy dressing-gown, the small, bare ankles 
 peeping from the soft blue slippers, sent an un- 
 holy desire for possession over him. What a fool 
 he had been to promise her to a fellow like Reg- 
 inald Brown ! 
 
 "Tony," he faltered hoarsely. "I've been a dog
 
 280 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pints 
 
 to you all these years. I've come to tell yor,. I 
 love you, kici. more'n anybody in all the world." 
 
 Tonnibel dodged his outstretched arms, and 
 flames ot an^er leapt into her eyes at his words. 
 
 "But my mother," she exclaimed, tr\ing nor to 
 cry out. 
 
 "Never mind her. Tony, never mind .my onr." 
 commanded I'riah. "The tact is, I ^m't your 
 daddy at all. I'm not an}- relation to 
 
 Then he snatched at her and, a- tried to 
 
 flee from him. caught her in his arms. One 
 cry left her lip-, and Kdith Devon heard ' pi (in- 
 ly out there under the TOM- bush. II ov. mar,} 
 times she had hY<l to an appeal like- th 
 :h<- same lip.-! In anotheT monif was In 
 
 the room before- Uriah'- ml mouth h 
 Tony"- face. The -irl -aw her and sen 
 
 "Mummy! Mummy darling! Mo: 1 
 est ! Take me away 
 
 The word- we're strangled in he 1 : throat, tor 
 Devon was forcing her head backward with 
 strong finders. 
 
 Edith's eyes caupht si^ht of the revojvrr wr ' re 
 ber husband had placed it. In a twinkHnf;, .'he
 
 "Poor Little Mother" 281 
 
 had it in her hands. Lifting it, she ran toward 
 the struggling pair. 
 
 "Take your hand- otiVn Tonnibel, Uriah/' she 
 hissed. "\ on dirt}, lung dog. You tooled me 
 good, you \vhelp! Drop Yr. I say. Uriah Devon." 
 
 At the other end ol the room, a tall hoy aro-e 
 out of the shadows; Tony's screams had aroused 
 Reginald Brown. He stood swaying, rubbing his 
 head, trying to remember where he was. 
 
 "I'm done wtih you, Kde," he heard Devon 
 utter. "I'm done with you forever. Tony's mine. 
 I've just told Yr I wasn't her daddy. I was a 
 tool to say Reggie Brown could have Yr. He 
 can't, I'll have Yr myself." 
 
 "Put Yr down," gritted Edith, under her 
 breath. 
 
 Almost lifeless, Tony was hanging from 
 Uriah's arm when suddenly through the room a 
 pistol shot sounded. 
 
 The moment his gun barked, Reginald, now 
 sober, saw Uriah Devon throw up his arms and 
 crumple in a heap on the floor. He saw, too, the 
 girl stagger forward and sink down. He had 
 committed murder, perhaps, and, for an awful
 
 282 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 moment, he imagined he was going mad. A 
 scream rose to his lips as a pain shot through his 
 head, hut he bit savagely on his tongue and hr!d 
 it hack. It he wa.> discovered, he would be ar j 
 rested, and it Devon died He darrd picture 
 the future no further. Shuddering, he slunk back, 
 crouched at the head of the divan and remained 
 absolutely quiet. 
 
 Tony struggled to her feet, stared in wild 
 ama/ement at her father, then at her mother, who 
 was standing rigidly speechless, the revolver 
 hanging from her fingers. 
 
 "Mummy," cried the girl, "Oh, God! You've 
 killed him, Edie darling! 1 ' 
 
 Still the woman didn't say a word. She only 
 gazed at the speaker unseeingly. Tony snatched 
 the gun from her hand. 
 
 "Edie," she groaned. "Mummy, sweet, go 
 right away, before any one comes. You've killed 
 Uriah. Go away, go away, I say." 
 
 She grasped Mrs. Devon's arm and hurried her 
 toward the porch door. 
 
 "Run," hissed the girl. "Get back to the boat 
 quick. Don't ever say a word to any one." Then
 
 "Poor Little Mother" 283 
 
 Tony spied the little black bag she'd seen so 
 often on the "Dirty Mary." Picking it up, she 
 thrust it into her mother's hands. "Here! Take 
 this too. Oh, mummy, kiss me, kiss me!" 
 
 She flung herself ujxm the woman frantically, 
 kissed the pallid, impassive face again and again 
 and then shoved Edith out upon the dark porch. 
 For an instant, her hand held tightly over her 
 thumping heart, Tony watched her mother stag- 
 ger down the steps. It was while Tony's whole 
 attention was centered on her beloved, that Reg- 
 inald Brown seized the opportunity to sneak 
 stealthily from the room. 
 
 The nervous woman in the upper part of the 
 house had not expected to hear the p ; ercing 
 scream that came to their ears, and, as it was 
 repeated more than once with such terrible in- 
 sistence, Mrs. Curtis, followed by Katherine, fled 
 down the stairs. 
 
 Tony heard them coming, and a surging love 
 for her mother brought a resolution full-born from 
 the loyal young heart. She was standing over the 
 prostrate Uriah when Sarah Curtis and her daugh- 
 ter rushed madly in.
 
 :>8i The Shadow of the Slu'lteririf/ /'/MC-V 
 
 "I shot m\ hither." gaspr i To.mibei. lookm- 
 
 at Mr.-. Curtis, her ringer: locked i 
 
 handle ot : he re\ o!\ ei. 
 
 Sarah I urtis '.\ a\ ed ..:,. 
 h !i k v ard \vh.en KatlirriiK 
 
 "Kainr, aiui I'll ht'ai 
 
 i! \\'haf a rrrriMc rrinH- >-on 
 Toil) Devon!' 1 
 
 L '\\ here's vour niotherV" e;i!!ie ri'oin Mrs. Cur- 
 
 Tonnihel cluln't an-\\ r er 1or a niinMte, 'h'T: siu* 
 shook her head. 
 
 "She hasn't heen here!' -Kc -.wai lowed liarJ 
 and continued: " ''I'was m\ tarher, and and i 
 shot him." 
 
 {Catherine tcx>k a lon_ f breath ot excitntienr. 
 
 "Don't you know you'll be arrested, >oii 
 wicked ^irl?" she ejaculated. 
 
 "And executed!" interposed Mrs. Curtis, 
 "{Catherine, call the police." 
 
 As Katherine made for the telephone, a motor 
 car driving up to the house, stayed her action. 
 Her hand dropped trom the receiver when Philip 
 MacCaulev came in. For a moment, he didn't see
 
 "Poor Little Mother" 286 
 
 Devon. With a quick, flashing glance, he noticed 
 how pallid and deathlike his Tony was. 
 
 "What have you two been saying to her?" he 
 demanded in deadening tones. "I suspected 
 something like this, and and got away as soon 
 as I could. . . . Darling girl, don't look at me 
 like that." 
 
 Mrs. Curtis was fully herself now. Her plans 
 could not have been carried out better than this. 
 In all her wild longings, she had not foreseen so 
 complete a removal of Tonnibel Devon from the 
 house, and in disgrace too. 
 
 "The wicked girl ha.- shot her own tather," she 
 told Captain MacCauley, making an effort to 
 keep the satisfaction out of her voice. "There he 
 is. dead on the floor !" 
 
 Then Philip saw Devon. In horrified amaze- 
 ment and disbelief, his ga/.e came back to Ton- 
 nibel. 
 
 "Darling," he said, and he went swiftly to her. 
 "I don't believe a word of it. It's all a lie!" 
 
 Tony flung out her hand. 
 
 "Don't touch me, please don't!" she mumbled. 
 "I told her I did it, and I I I did."
 
 28C The Shadow of the Sheltering Pine*. 
 
 She backed away from his outstretched arms. 
 
 "But you couldn't have," groaned the boy. 
 "What happened? Oh, God! Won't some one 
 tell me what happened?" 
 
 "Mother has told you quite plainly, Philip," 
 gulped Katherine, noticing with a thrill that Cap- 
 tain MacCauley had not covered the few steps 
 Tony had retreated. "She said she killed her 
 father, and no girl admits such a thing as that 
 unless it's true. Heavens, there's Cousin John 
 and- 
 
 "Cousin Paul," fell from Mrs. Curtis, who 
 looked as if she had turned to stone. 
 
 Not another word was uttered by that silent 
 group of people until after the two doctors en- 
 tered the library. 
 
 For a moment everything was confusion. Dr. 
 John forced Mrs. Curtis into a chair when she 
 tried to fling herself into his arms. With every 
 one, but Tony, talking at once, neither he nor 
 his brother could understand the meaning of the 
 seemingly dead man on the floor. 
 
 "Will you all keep still, all of you?" shouted
 
 "Poor lAttlc Mother" 287 
 
 Dr. John, in his bombastic voice. "First, Paul, 
 let's see about this fellow here." 
 
 "Tony shot him it you want to know," Mrs. 
 Curtis dared to fling out. 
 
 Dr. Paul gave her such an awful look that 
 she quailed beneath it. 
 
 "He's not dead," he said after a hasty exam- 
 ination of Uriah, and one dry, tearless sob burst 
 from Tony Devon. 
 
 "You might as well own up the whole thing 
 now, miss," cried Mrs. Curtis, after the wounded 
 man had been carried out by the doctors and 
 Philip. "It'll be better for you in the end." 
 
 Tony didn't reply, nor did she look at the 
 speaker. She paid no attention to the whispering 
 of the mother and daughter during the intermin- 
 able time they waited for the return of the three 
 men. Her mind was following her mother along 
 the Boulevard, yes, even down the lonely forest- 
 path to the "Dirty Mary." Through her tangled 
 thoughts went the question, if Uriah wasn't her 
 father, who was? How she dreaded to face Dr. 
 Paul with his infinite kindness, and the appeal 
 she knew he would make. Never before had he
 
 -88 The Shadou uj ihc Skeltering Pinc-< 
 
 -ermed so clear; never had Philip MacCauley 
 been so far away a- at th:> minute! At length, 
 -he lilted her head and re-ted her troubled eyes 
 on Mrs. Curt!-. 
 
 "Please don't tell m\ hither, I mean Dr. Paul, 
 about your saying ni\ mother was here," 
 moaned. 
 
 Mrs. Cum- considered the request quickly. 
 
 "Perhaps that would be best,'' ,-h" answered. 
 "I really thought she was, or I wouldn't have * 
 \ on so. It might bring troubl< to her, and that 
 would be dreadful tor an innoeenr person." 
 
 Dr. Paul went direetly to Tony, wlien, tol- 
 lov, r ed by his brother and Philip, lu- came b:iek 
 into the room. lie tried to draw her to IV.T feet. 
 
 ''I'd rather stay here, please," .-he said, wirhou: 
 kx)kin^ up. 
 
 "\Mio was in the room when the man was 
 shot?" asked Dr. John, staring at Mrs. Curtis 
 and her daughter. 
 
 "Just Tonnibel, as far as I can find out," Sara!: 
 answered. ''Heaven knows that Kathie and I 
 don't want to be mixed up in such a thing as this. 
 It's perfectly disgraceful."
 
 "Poor Little Moilicr" 
 
 ''Then go upstairs," shot back Dr. .John. 
 
 Loath not to witness the vanquishing ot their 
 enemy, the two women trailed out reluctantly. 
 
 In spite ot Tony's resistance, Dr. Paul placed 
 liis arm about her. 
 
 ''Can't you tell your father about it, dear'?" he 
 pleaded. "How did you happen to have the pin 
 in your hands, and what did he do?" 
 
 "I just shot him." 1 sighed Tony. dull}-. She 
 was too exhausted to say anything more. What 
 was there to explain after all? The only sure 
 way to save Edith was to insist she, herself, had 
 tired the shot. 
 
 A strange, strangling sound came from Captain 
 MacCauley. Then he blurted out: 
 
 "Tony darling, please don't sit there that way. 
 Tell us about it. Do, dear. Oh, don't you know 
 how much we all love you?" 
 
 Did she know? Ah, yes and more! Her own 
 devotion to him was almost forcing the truth 
 from between her chattering teeth. She glanced 
 at him, and then, Edith, pale, beseeching and 
 wan, came between her face and his. 
 
 "There isn't anything more to tell, Philip," she
 
 290 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pine* 
 
 choked hopelessly. "I suppose I'll be arrested. If 
 he dies 
 
 She burst into broken sobs and crouched lower. 
 
 "He's not going to die," Paul told her softly. 
 "He only has a slight scalp wound. So put that 
 worry out ol your head. . . . Tony, don't you 
 love me any more?" 
 
 Love him ! The agony in his voice made her 
 fling her amis around him, and she clung to him 
 shivering, entreating him to forgive her, not to 
 cease loving her, for she'd die if he did. 
 
 "Child dear," he murmured, running his fingers 
 over her curls, "you're going to steady yourself 
 now and tell your father just what happened! 
 Now, begin !" 
 
 He had not finished when his eyes caught sight 
 of the safe. He stared at its open door, and Dr. 
 John's gay.e followed his. Then the latter strode 
 across the room, and for a long moment peered 
 into the opening. 
 
 "It's empty! Everything's gone," he muttered, 
 turning slowly, and Philip exclaimed: 
 
 "That's why she shot him, Jack. He was steal- 
 ing! Tony darling," and the speaker went down
 
 "Poor Litlie Mother" 291 
 
 beside the girl, "Tony, did you find your lather 
 here?" 
 
 "I didn't see him take anything, Philip," she 
 sobbed bitterly. Her eyes were looking at him, but 
 their expression told him they didn't see him at 
 all. Another problem was tormenting her. Her 
 misery was being added to by the minute. So 
 impatient was Philip to have the matter cleared 
 that he spoke harshly to her. 
 
 "Tony, you know where those jewels are," said 
 he. "Tell us instantly!" Then he ejaculated: 
 "That man has them upstairs." 
 
 He was out of the room in a flash, and an 
 awful silence settled over the three until he was 
 with them again. 
 
 "He hasn't got them," he faltered. "I searched 
 every pocket in his clothes. But I found this wad 
 of money. There must be thousands in it!" 
 
 He passed the money to Dr. John. 
 
 "It wasn't in the safe," said the latter, thought- 
 fully, slipping it into the table drawer. 
 
 His words struck a new terror to Tonnibel. 
 Edith had robbed the safe then, Edith who never 
 stole unless she was forced to it. The shudders
 
 The Shadoic oj the Sheltering Pine* 
 
 that ran over her brought a teclm^ ot rebellion 
 TO Paul Pendlehaven. Philip groaned and bepm 
 ro speak, bur the doctor waved him to silence. 
 
 "Ton}." h- -aid -ternly. "there'.- something 
 beneath all this, something you must tell me. I)) 
 you know where the thinp- went that were in the 
 safe"?" 
 
 To den\ it would be the same as telling that a 
 third person had been there. To admit it would 
 forever place her beyond the pale ot his love. Yet 
 there was Kdith and Uriah, whom she had 
 sworn to protect. 
 
 "Yts, I know," die whispered. "Of cour-e, I 
 know/' she repeated louder. 
 
 "You'll tell me," be^ed Philip, hoarsely. 
 "Great Heavens, child, can't you see how awtui 
 it looks tor youV" 
 
 "Yes," was all she said, miserably. 
 
 Dr. John was wandering aimle-sly about th<- 
 room. The mystery that had tiling o\er To:r>, 
 Devon ever since she had been with them was 
 deeper than ever. He felt like shaking Lhe . -nth 
 from her, tor the si^ht ot his horror-stricken 
 brother filled him with rane which did +or the
 
 "Poor Little Mother" 293 
 
 moment obliterate the past two years in which 
 the girl had been the one bright spirit in their 
 home. 
 
 "Then it you know. Tony," he ejaculated, "jmt 
 out with it. Your father evidently didn't takf 
 them 
 
 "I did," interrupted Tony, giving him one 
 swift, awful glance. 
 
 "What for?" was hi.^ bitter retort. "My 
 brother gave you permission to wear them when- 
 ever you wanted to!" 
 
 Tony couldn't answer. She was becoming hope- 
 lessly entangled, more so with ever}- word she 
 uttered. 
 
 "God, I'd rather have given them all to you," 
 mourned Dr. Paul. "I intended to, anyhow." 
 
 How could she bear that tone of sorrow in hi.- 
 voice? How could she stand losing him, Philip 
 and Cousin John and all the happiness they had 
 brought her? 
 
 "If your father dies, Tonnibel," said Dr. John, 
 sternly, "you'll be arrested. Oh, Lord! What 
 a mess!" 
 
 ; 'It's awful," muttered Tony.
 
 294 TJic Sliiulow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 Simultaneous with her assertion, Reginald 
 Brown opened the door and minced over the 
 threshold. Perfectly eertain now that l.'riah had 
 hut a temporary wound, and that tor the love 
 they bore Tonnibe] I)e\on, his cousins would 
 hush the matter up, he had determined to make 
 his plea openly to the girl. Philip, ot course, 
 wouldn't ever look at her a pi in atter Mich a dis- 
 grace had fallen upon her. 
 
 "Tony," he said, coming forward with a mag- 
 nanimous swagger, "Tin the only one in this 
 house who loves you 
 
 "You lie," flashed Philip, as Dr. John took 
 a step toward his young cousin, but the girl's ex- 
 pression brought him to a halt. She was looking 
 at Reginald with eyes that seemed to him to burn 
 holes through him. 
 
 'Tve never told any one here you cared for 
 me, Reggie," she taltered, drawing herself forci- 
 bly from Dr. Paul, "and and I took the things 
 out of the safe to help us along when 
 when " 
 
 Reggie stared at her. amazement spreading over
 
 "Poor Little Mother" 295 
 
 his countenance; he felt a swelling in his chest, an 
 overwhelming awe and respect for her. 
 
 "I didn't tell you to steal," he blurted. , 
 
 "I know you didn't," responded Tonnibel, 
 amid the terrible silence that had fallen on her 
 friends, "but we couldn't get along without mon- 
 ey, so I took the the Cousin Paul's " 
 
 During the broken statement Philip MacCau- 
 ley had dropped into a chair and covered his face 
 with his hands. Dr. John was gaping at her 
 
 as if she had struck him, but Dr. Paul 
 
 Well, he simply reached out and grasped her 
 hands. 
 
 "You're lying again, Tony," he interrupted 
 her grimly. "I don't know why, but I'm posi- 
 tive all you've said is a fearful lie. Reginald, 
 have you ever asked Tony to marry you*?" 
 
 The boy smiled broadly. Everything was 
 working out splendidly for him. 
 
 "Yes, and her father promised her to me," he 
 boasted, "but I didn't know until to-night she 
 really loved me." 
 
 Tony shot him a look of hate, but she low-
 
 296 The Shaduic of the Sheltering Pint* 
 
 creel her eyes instantly. She dared not risk Paul 
 Pendlehaven seeing her revulsion. 
 
 But it was to Reginald's credit, that he be- 
 lieved she s[K)ke the truth. His vanity wouldn't 
 allow him to think otherwise. 
 
 "I'd like to talk to her alone," he said crisply, 
 directly at Cousin Paul. "Women are [x-culiar 
 creatures. Why, I've loved her over two years, 
 and to think she made- Philip believe she was go- 
 ing to marry him 
 
 "So she is," snapped Philip, raising his head. 
 
 "When I've done my damnedest to get her to 
 ki-s me even," continued Reginald, overlooking 
 MacCauley's ejaculation. "You remember your- 
 self, Phil, what happened that day on the boar." 
 
 "Don't repeat it." cried Tony. ''Oh. all ot you 
 go away, go away. Let me alone. I want to be 
 by myself." 
 
 "You want to be with me." contradicted Regi- 
 nald, and he whirled in jubilant ecstasy on one 
 heel, rhm c icked his feet together. "You love 
 me, Tony! You do. don't you"?" 
 
 The dark head made an almost imperceptible 
 nod, but Philip in his jealousy saw it.
 
 "Poor Little Mother" 297 
 
 I It- p)t up as ii he were an old man. The youth 
 had one out ot him. 
 
 "It she doesn't, love me and never ha>," he 
 muttered da'/edly, "then I'd better p)." 
 
 He waited for her to sneak to him, to deny her 
 words, but the tearful expression in the gray eyes 
 turned upon him, contused him still more. 
 
 "Yes, > j;(}," Tony told him. rousing herself, "and 
 and never think ot me a^ain." 
 
 There- was silence in the room as he went away, 
 but no sooner had the door closed than Tony 
 filing up her arms and sank unconscious in a for- 
 lorn, little heap against Paul Pendlehaven.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 CROSS-gUKSTIONS 
 
 EDITH DEVON, with the small black bag in 
 her hand, crept out of the Pendlehaven garden, 
 unapprehensive. She had no power to think 
 no desire to go anywhere or do anything. She 
 even forgot the words Uriah had spoken to Ton- 
 nibel; she didn't even remember the girl had told 
 her to go back to the "Dirty Mary." She lin- 
 gered about Pendlehaven Place until the morn- 
 ing dawned. During the hours preceding day- 
 light, she studied over the events of the afternoon 
 and evening. As her mind cleared, all her love 
 for Uriah rose up and clamored to help him. She 
 remembered leaving him stretched out on the floor 
 as if he were dead. When the town below began 
 to show signs of day, she walked back into Pen- 
 dlehaven Place, and slowly up to the house. 
 
 It was a servant who ushered Mrs. Devon into 
 the library where Dr. John and Dr. Paul still 
 
 998
 
 Cross-Questions 299 
 
 sat, struggling with the mystery that had come 
 into their usually quiet home. After vainly 
 trying to force more than monosyllabic replies 
 from Tonnihel, they had put her to bed, gibbering 
 with fright. 
 
 Edith advanced to the middle of the room, 
 
 holding the little bag in her hand, looking first 
 at Dr. John, who tried unsuccessfully to re- 
 call where he had seen her, and then at Dr. 
 Paul. 
 
 "Where's my man, my Uriah 4 ?" she asked 
 hoarsely, and then Dr. John recognized her 
 and rose to his leet. "You got my husband here 
 with a bit of lead in 'im/' went on Edith, mo- 
 notonously. "I want to see 'im; I want to take 
 'im back to the boat." 
 
 For the space of thirty seconds, perhaps, no one 
 ventured a word. Then, as the woman swayed, 
 Dr. John leaped forward and put her into a 
 chair. The bag dropped to the floor beside her. 
 Tears began to flow down her cheeks, and, with 
 her sleeve, she brushed them away. 
 
 "Where's my man, my Uriah*?" she demanded
 
 i \ . "d , . ';:, . ba. i t(T, .n,i 
 
 I'll \Vi': ;' - rhat -hot 'im?' 1 
 
 "\Yh<> shot himV med Dr. John, 
 
 Edirh pn e him .1 pe 'ill iar look. 
 
 "Re;_.Je. Ke^gir Brown." !;<' \\'!nnc(.i. "I -,r.<. 
 'im, anJ I'oi- \ . ihmkin' 1 tiiJ il - 
 
 A -harn cry tell from Dr. Paul Pcndlehaven. 
 
 "Toil}' \-o\vcd she dul it," lu j gasped. "O 1 
 poor little ^irl! She didn't even mention your 
 bcin^r here." 
 
 ''Tony's like that," assented Edith. "Sh 
 wouldn't [x-ach on a do^;." 
 
 Dr. John camr to her side with one Ion: 
 stride. 
 
 "Are you ready to swear Reginald Brown shot 
 your husband*?" he demanded. 
 
 "Of course I am, mister," nodded Edith. "IL 
 was always runnin' after Tony, and she hate J 
 'im. He was right over there when, sudden- 
 like, he banged a bullet smack at my man. Th '.' 
 duffer, the dirty pup, ain't fit to clean Uriah 
 boots. When Tony pushed me out of this hou 
 she says, well, she says, 'Run, mummy, beioiv
 
 Cross-Questions 301 
 
 somebody gets you,' and I was kind a dazed-like 
 and ran away." 
 
 Just then Philip flung into the room. 
 
 "I'm halt crazy." he exclaimed and then 
 stopped, seeing Edith Devon, but lie was so filled 
 with misery that he gave no further heed to the 
 >tranger and went on hastily, "Jack, Paul, there's 
 something behind that affair of Reggie's!" 
 
 "There sure is," said John Pendlehaven. "Sit 
 down, boy. We're just getting at it. This is 
 Mrs, Devon." 
 
 "And my man," she insisted, struggling up. 
 "Uriah always was a damn tool, mixin' up with 
 swells like Reggie Brown, but I love 'im; and. 
 mister," she wiped her face and, shudderingly, 
 appealed to Paul Pendlehaven, "it you give 'im to 
 me, mister 
 
 ''We'll see Tony first," he interrupted. "Wait." 
 
 While their cousins were with Uriah's wife be- 
 low, Mrs. Curtis and Katherine were talking over 
 the events of the night. 
 
 "If Tony'll only stick to what she's said," 
 Mrs. Curtis was repeating, "nothing could be bet-
 
 302 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 ter. She'll probably go to jail, and Reginald 
 will forget her/' 
 
 "Rege's such a tool," commented the girl. "I 
 wonder if she really did say she loved him. She 
 simply couldn't care tor him when she has Philip, 
 nor alter her knowing he tried to kill Cousin Paul. 
 I'd like to know what's behind it all."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 PAYMENT IN FULL 
 
 TONY received the call to the library listlessly. 
 Nothing that any one could say now would make 
 her lot an}' easier. Nothing! Nothing! Philip, 
 her new father, kind Uncle John, all had vanished 
 in the waters ot bitterness that had overwhelmed 
 her. 
 
 The room seemed full of people when she crept 
 timidly in. Uriah Devon, with a white cloth tied 
 around his head, lounged in a large chair. Mrs. 
 Curtis and Katherine were seated, rigidly erect 
 side by side. The girl's gaze passed over their 
 glaring eyes and settled on Philip MacCauley. 
 Was that a smile she saw lurking around his lips'? 
 Of course not! He couldn't smile when she was 
 in such trouble! She shivered as she met Regi- 
 nald Brown's eager eyes, and, thrusting back a 
 sob, she went to Paul Pendlehaven because he had 
 held his hand out to her. Then she saw her 
 
 303
 
 .'iOJ Ti'C Slutthnc of tin Sheltering Pinr* 
 
 mother, and a bevuldered expre.->ion spread over 
 her face. Dr. Paul, hi- eyes soft and jjlean: 
 his lip- twitching nervou.-ly, drew her down be- 
 
 -!(':( hllil. 
 
 "Munini) doesn't know anything about it," 
 
 gasped the girl, rxtrndinj her arms to Kdith. 
 
 'I won't ' ! !<Mr any our say Oh, I riah," she 
 
 Turned to Devon, "you kno\s . Oh. say I did it." 
 
 "Won': say any such thing," nmrrered Uriah. 
 
 "Ot course he won't, Ton\," exclaimed Dr. 
 John. "\\'e know the truth now." 
 
 Tonnibe] ,uor to her feet, [Hilling herself a\va\' 
 1 rom Paul I'endlehaven. 
 
 "Oh, }'OM can't arrest :ny poi>r little mother," 
 -he cried. "Her whole hie has been so miserable, 
 I must help her. You must, you, Philip 
 
 Philip uot out of his chair, but Dr. John put 
 him back into it apiin. 
 
 "Wait." he whispered into the boy's ear. 
 
 "I want to tell you, every one." went on Tony, 
 fiercely, "that I'll swear 'til I the my mother- 
 Paul Pendlehaven took the speaker by the 
 shoulders and forced IKT face up to his. 
 
 "This woman, here, your mother," and h'-
 
 Payment in Full 305 
 
 waved his arm toward Mrs. Devon, "says you 
 didn't have that gun in your hand, and it's load- 
 ed to the brim now. She didn't use it cither/' 
 
 Regie's jaw dropped. He made a da-h for the 
 door, as Mrs. Curtis .^creamed. Dr. John caught 
 the fleeing hoy and wheeled him around to face 
 hi> horror-stricken mother. 
 
 "It's a lie! I didn't/' he mumbled. "Where'd 
 I get a pin to shoot any one? This woman did it 
 herself. I saw her/' 
 
 "Then you ccv/v here," cried Philip. 
 
 Mrs. Curtis acted as if she were going to faint, 
 but, as no one paid any attention to her, she 
 slumped back beside her daughter, who turned 
 away contemptuously. 
 
 "That settles one question," commented Dr. 
 Paul, grimly. "You shot Devon, Reggie," and 
 the boy sank into a chair beside his mother. 
 "Now," continued the doctor, "who robbed tin- 
 safe ?" 
 
 To know that her mother hadn't, done the shoot- 
 ing relieved but one of Tonnibel's worries. Uriah 
 wasn't hurt much anyway, but the doctor's ques- 
 tion brought vividly to her mind another danger.
 
 30G The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 not a whir less serious. Edith was certainly in- 
 volved in looting the safe! 
 
 "I told you once," Ton}' began weakly. 
 
 "Child," interposed Dr. Paul, "you'll shield 
 no one else. I shudder to think what might have 
 happened if your mother hadn't come here for her 
 husband." 
 
 His tones were low and stern, though much 
 moved. 
 
 His eye caught sight of the black bag at the 
 same time his brother's did. Dr. John opened it 
 and, amid an appalling silence, took box alter 
 box out of it. 
 
 "Plain stealing!" he growled, and then he 
 stared at Mrs. Devon in open-mouthed amaze- 
 ment. "What'd you bring 'em back torV" he 
 questioned. 
 
 Edith paid no attention to Dr. John's query 
 but addressed her husband. 
 
 "Uriah, now you went and done it again!'' She 
 turned to Dr. Paul. "You got everythin' back, 
 give me my man. He didn't know what he was 
 doin,' sir." 
 
 "Then he'll be taught a lesson, the same as
 
 Payment in Full 307 
 
 Reginald will, madam," rejoined the doctor. 
 "Ever since your daughter came to us, she's been 
 in dread of your husband, her father. Once he 
 was sent away, and she had peace. This time he 
 won't come back in a hurry." 
 
 Dr. John reached into the drawer of the ta- 
 ble near him and produced the roll of bills that 
 Philip had found on Devon the night before. 
 
 "How about this, youf ' he inquired of Devon. 
 "Where'd this come from before it was in your 
 pocket'? While we're at it, we might as well 
 clear up everything." 
 
 Dr. Paul and Philip fixed their gaze upon the 
 wounded man and waited expectantly for his 
 answer. They had spent considerable time over 
 the five thousand dollars and wondered what con- 
 nection, if any, it had with the events of the night. 
 To Tonnibel and Edith, the appearance of such 
 a sum from such a place seemed absolutely incred- 
 ible. The Curtises knew what money it was, but 
 their anxiety was no less acute on that account. 
 Katherine leaned forward feverishly, and her 
 mother leapt to her feet. 
 
 The center of interest, Uriah Devon, shifted
 
 .308 The Shadow of the Siccitcriuj Pines 
 
 line;!:-':!}' in hi.> chair. lie had discovered r he lo-,- 
 
 the mom y but hud nor dared to make any 
 
 Inquiry about it. Ha-ni\ he run over the situu- 
 
 n, and it. appeared to him a- ho;>eie.-.- as [)C 
 hie, but five thousand dollar- \va- a good ihmg 
 ' >r a man to have whatever his position. I; Mr.~. 
 Curtis claimed the mone\. her connecrion \virli 
 him would come out. and that mi^'ht make tiling"- 
 easier tor him. It she duin't, he'd have the cu.-h 
 anyhow. 
 
 "That's mine, mister." he grunted, "and I 
 didn't steal it neither, dive it to me." 
 
 The same considerations had been chasing 
 through Mrs. Curtis' mind, and, in the general 
 cataclysm that she >aw bet ore her, she concluded 
 the money might be very necessary tor her and 
 her children. 
 
 ''Don't let him have it, John," she screamed. 
 "It's mine. Gi\ e it to me." 
 
 Dr. John arose and stood between Uriah and 
 Mrs. Curtis, holding the roll oi bills in his 
 hand. Amidst the elosest attention of the rest ot 
 the group, he looked irorn one to the other, while 
 the claimants indulged, in a dispute.
 
 Payment in Full 309 
 
 "You give it to me, didn't you, ma'am*?" asked 
 Uriah, roughly. "Didn't you'?" 
 
 "Yes, I suppose I did," she acknowledged, "but 
 you haven't done what you said you would." 
 
 " 'Twasn't my fault," Uriah Crumbled. "If 
 that fool ot a son of yours hadn't butted in and 
 shot me, I'd taken Tony like I bargained to." 
 
 Then Dr. Paul interposed, and a few ques- 
 tions, sternly put and categorically answered, di>- 
 covered the whole conspiracy between Mrs. Cur- 
 tis, her children, and Uriah Devon. 
 
 John Pendlehaven, whose anger had been stead- 
 ily rising, suddenly stepped forward and brushed 
 his brother aside. 
 
 "I'll take charge of this now, Paul," he stated. 
 "You're too damned easy. Here's where you 
 treacherous snakes go to jail," he included Uriah 
 and the Curtises in a sweep of his hand. "Every 
 one of you !" He turned savagely upon Reginald. 
 "You little pup," he charged swiftly, "you tried 
 to poison Paul, didn't you*?" He crossed to his 
 side and towered over him with upraised fist. 
 "Own up, damn you. Didn't you?" 
 
 Reginald cowered, slipped out of his chair and
 
 310 The Shadow of the Sheltering Phics 
 
 attempted to shield himself in Mrs. Curtis' arms, 
 who leaned protectingly over him. 
 
 ''I I wa> drunk,'' he excused himself, "and I 
 thought," he whimpered to his mother, ''I thought 
 you wanted me to." 
 
 Then Kdith projected her-clt into the excitc- 
 ment again. She glanced at I'riah. her eyes melt- 
 ing with tenderness, aro.-e and stood looking at the 
 Pendlehavcn brothers. 
 
 "Mr. Paul, 1 ' she said in a low voice, "don't you 
 remember meV 
 
 Paul looked her over with no sign ot recogni- 
 tion, and his brother turned away irom Reginald 
 to observe this new development. 
 
 "Xo," said Paul, and he shook his head. 
 
 "Never rn'md ! That don't matter!" was the 
 reply, "but I'll make a dicker with you. You give 
 me my man for keeps, and I'll give you your girU 
 Caroline. I'm Edith Mindil !" 
 
 You could have heard a pin drop, so deep was 
 the silence. All were looking at the haggard 
 woman, facing Paul Pendlehaven, who was rising 
 unsteadily.
 
 Payment in Full 311 
 
 "Give me my man," she repeated. "Don't 
 send 'im to jail, and I'll give you your girl." 
 
 Ur. Paul had become so white that his broth- 
 er went to him and flung an arm across his shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 "Are you lying?" he thundered at Edith. "If 
 if Sit down, Paul. Let me 
 
 "Where's my baby?" quavered Paul Pendle- 
 haven. 
 
 "Does my Uriah go fre , scot-free?" ques- 
 tioned Mrs. Devon. 
 
 "Yes, yes," consented both brothers at the same 
 time. 
 
 Tony had dropped to the floor. Now that lit- 
 tle Caroline had been found, she could r:j longer 
 be a Pendlchavcn daughter. Edith went to her 
 and knelt beside her. 
 
 "Here she is, sir," she said in husky tones, 
 lifting a tearful face to the men, "and you 
 couldn't have a finer girl in the world. I ain't 
 goin' to say for you to forgive me, sir, but you've 
 had 'er over two years ! Now, gimme Uriah, and 
 we'll go." 
 
 Tonv threw her arms around Edith's neck.
 
 *J12 The Shadow of the Sheltering Pines 
 
 What a change two minute? and a few words had 
 made! She seemed to have taken on a new dig- 
 nity as, with shining eyes, she said to Paul Pen- 
 dlehaven : 
 
 "Father, darling, whatever it was (hat separated 
 u-, I want, oh, how I want to do something tor 
 the only mother I'\e ever known." 
 
 Of course. Dr. Paul consented: he even did 
 more. He got a promise trom the confused Uriah 
 that he'd turn hi> back on the old days and old 
 ways, and begin again with such aid as the Pen- 
 dlehavens would give him. 
 
 While Dr. Paul was settling the tate of the 
 Devons, John Pendlehaven had been si/in:.: up the 
 Curtis family. They were grouped together. 
 clinging to each other. 
 
 "Keggie," he ejaculated. "I reckon you did a 
 good job when you Mopped Devon with a bullet 
 last, night. As tor you, Sarah, you and your el il- 
 dren aren't safe to ha\e in the hor.se. II' 
 He stretched forth his hand and offered the live 
 thousand dollars to her. ''Here's your money. 
 Now go, and rake Keggie and Katherine with 
 you."
 
 Paiiment in Full 313 
 
 Mrs. Curtis \v;i: ; ?o utterly overcome that she 
 could do nothing but sob, but Kather'me took :'i-- 
 bills from the doctor's hand and turned to h<-r 
 brother. 
 
 "Come on, Rege," she muttered. "Help me 
 get her out. ot this. \Ye better go." She pinched 
 her mother's arm spitefully. "Get up, mother. 
 Quit, that crying, and come on." 
 
 The others watched them leave the room, and 
 then Mrs. Devon spoke up : 
 
 ''We're next, Riah! And we're everlastingly 
 grateful to you, Dr. Paul, and you, Dr. John, 
 tor lettin' us go. Ain't we, RiahV 
 
 Devon straightened up from his chair and 
 grinned sheepishly. 
 
 "That we be," he agreed, "and I'll try to show 
 it." 
 
 That evening when Tonnibel and Philip were 
 alone together, the young man said chokingly, 
 "You don't for a moment imagine I ever believed 
 you did that thing, darling? I went away be- 
 cause I thought you didn't love me any more, that
 
 314 The Shadow <>> the Sheltering Pines 
 
 von never had loved me. You don't think any 
 other way"? 1 ' 
 
 "No, dear," she answered gently. "No, of 
 
 course not !' 
 
 The boy pressed her to him, and, as they whis- 
 pered so low, no one could hear anything, there 
 isn't another word to reeord, except that Tonnibel 
 Pendlehavcn had everything the world could give 
 
 one little girl. 
 
 THE END
 
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