288<V
 
 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 .02 
 
 ANGELES
 
 
 He drank deeply, then struggled to a sitting posture, his face 
 whitening beneath its tan.
 
 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 BY 
 
 DOUGLAS GRANT 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 "THE SINGLE TRACK," "BOOTY," "THE FIFTH ACE," ETC. 
 
 Frontispiece by 
 PAUL STAHR 
 
 NEW YORK 
 W. J. WATT & COMPANT 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, igao, T 
 W. J. WATT & COMPANY 
 
 PRIM or 
 
 BRAUNWORTH ft OO> 
 
 BOOK MANUFACTURERS 
 
 BROOKLYN, N. V.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTEK PAGE 
 
 I. A ROADSIDE MEETING i 
 
 II. PARTNERS 17 
 
 III. THE VENDOR OF EVERYTHING ... 41 
 
 IV. UNDER THE BIG TOP 55 
 
 V. CONCERNING AN OMELET .... 69 
 
 VI. THE RED NOTE-BOOK 83 
 
 VII. REVELATIONS 99 
 
 VIII. JOURNEY'S END 118 
 
 DC. THE LONG, LONG TRAIL 138 
 
 2129902
 
 ANYTHING ONCE
 
 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A ROADSIDE MEETING 
 
 THE white dust, which lay thick upon 
 the wide road between rolling fields of 
 ripened grain, rose in little spirals from be- 
 neath the heavy feet of the plodding farm- 
 horses drawing the empty hay-wagon, and 
 had scarcely settled again upon the browning 
 goldenrod and fuzzy milkweed which bor- 
 dered the rail fences on either side when Ebb 
 Fischel's itinerant butcher-jitney rattled past, 
 Ebb Fischers eyes were usually as sharp as 
 the bargains he drove, but the dust must have 
 obscured his vision. Otherwise he would have 
 seen the man lying motionless beside the road,
 
 2 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 with his cap in the ditch and the pitiless sun 
 of harvest-time caking the blood which had 
 streamed from an ugly cut upon his temple. 
 
 But the meat-cart jolted on and out of sight, 
 and for a long time nothing disturbed the 
 stillness except the distant whirring of a 
 reaper and nearer buzzing of a fat, inquisitive 
 bluebottle fly, which paused to see what this 
 strange thing might be, and then zoomed off 
 excitedly to tell his associates. 
 
 At length there came a dry rustling in the 
 tall standing wheat in the field on the opposite 
 side of the road, and a head and shoulders 
 appeared above the topmost fence-rail. It 
 was a small head covered with tow-colored 
 hair, which had been slicked back and 
 braided so tightly that the short, meager cue 
 curled outward and up in a crescent, as though 
 it were wired, and the shoulders beneath the 
 coarse blue-and-white striped cotton gown 
 were thin and peaked. 
 
 The girl darted a swift, furtive glance up 
 and down the road, and suddenly thrust a 
 bundle tied in a greasy apron between the 
 rails, letting it fall in the high, dusty weeds
 
 A ROADSIDE MEETING 3 
 
 by the roadside. Next she climbed to the 
 top of the fence, and for a moment perched 
 there, displaying a slim length of coarse black 
 stocking above clumping, square-toed shoes at 
 least two sizes too large for her. 
 
 She looked like a very forlorn, feminine 
 Monte Cristo indeed, as she scanned the world 
 from her vantage-point, and yet there was a 
 look of quiet satisfaction and achievement in 
 her incongruously dark eyes which told of a 
 momentous object accomplished. 
 
 Then all at once they stared and softened 
 as she caught sight of that still figure lying 
 across the road, and in two bounds she was 
 beside him and lifted his head against her 
 sharp knees. She noted only casually that 
 he was a clean-shaven, tanned young man with 
 brown hair bleached by the sun to a warm 
 gold, and that he wore shabby, weather-beaten 
 clothes. 
 
 Had she realized that those same worn, 
 faded garments bore the stamp of one of New 
 York's most exclusive tailors! that the boots 
 were London-made, and the golf-stockings 
 which met the corduroy knickerbockers came
 
 4 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 from one of Scotland's famous mills, it would 
 have meant just exactly nothing in her young 
 life. 
 
 Her immediate attention was concentrated 
 upon the jagged gash which ran unpleasantly 
 close to his temple, and which had begun to 
 bleed afresh as she raised his head. 
 
 The girl looked about her again and saw 
 that a short distance ahead the road was bi- 
 sected by a bridge of planks with willows 
 bordering it at either side. She pulled at the 
 strings which held a blue sunbonnet dangling 
 between her narrow shoulder-blades, re- 
 garded the sleazy headgear ruefully, and then 
 spying the cap in the ditch, she deposited het 
 burden gently upon the grass once more and 
 scrambled over to investigate her find. 
 
 The cap had an inner lining of something 
 which seemed to be like rubber, and the girl 
 flew off down the road to return with her im- 
 provised bowl filled with clear, cold spring 
 water. Dropping on her knees beside the un- 
 conscious figure, she poured the contents of 
 the cap over his face and head. 
 
 The young man sputtered, gasped, moaned
 
 A ROADSIDE MEETING 5 
 
 a little, and opened astonished brown eyes 
 upon her. 
 
 "How how the devil did you come here?" 
 he asked ungallantly. 
 
 "Over the fence." Her reply was laconic, 
 but it bore an unmistakable hint that further 
 query along that line would be highly un- 
 welcome. "Just you lay still while I git some 
 more water, an' I'll tie up that head of yourn." 
 
 The young man's hand went unsteadily to 
 his aching brow and came away brightly 
 pink, so he decided to take this uncomely 
 vision's advice, and remained quiescent, won- 
 dering how he himself had come to be there, 
 and what had happened to him. 
 
 According to the map, he had surely been 
 on the right road, yet it had as assuredly not 
 looked like this one; the other had been a 
 broad, State highway, while this 
 
 He closed his burning eyes to shield them 
 from the glare of the sun, and a confused 
 memory returned to him of that invitingly 
 green, shady pasture which had tempted him 
 as a short cut toward the next village, and 
 of something which thundered down upon
 
 6 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 him from behind and lifted him into chaos. 
 Good Lord, and he had only six days left! 
 
 "You'd better take a drink of this first an' I 
 kin use the rest on your head." A composed, 
 practical voice advised by his side, and he 
 looked up gratefully into the snub-nosed, 
 freckled face of his benefactress as she held 
 the brimming cap to his lips. 
 
 He drank deeply, then struggled to a sit- 
 ting posture, his face whitening beneath its 
 tan at the sudden wrench of pain which 
 twisted the muscles of his back. 
 
 "Kin you hold the cap steady?" The girl 
 thrust it into his hands without waiting for 
 a reply, and, sitting down with her back to 
 him, calmly turned back the hem of her gown 
 and tore a wide strip from the coarse but im- 
 maculately white cambric petticoat beneath. 
 
 Dipping it into the water, she bandaged his 
 head not unskilfully, and then rose. 
 
 "There! I gotta git you over to the shade 
 of them trees, or you'll have sunstroke. Wait 
 till I fetch somethin'." 
 
 She ran across the road and returned with 
 her greasy bundle under one arm, offering the
 
 A ROADSIDE MEETING 7 
 
 other to him with a gesture as frank as it was 
 impersonal. 
 
 "Lean on me, an' try to git along and 
 please kinder hurry!" 
 
 She added the last with a note of sudden 
 urgency in her tones and the same furtively 
 darting glance with which she had swept the 
 road from the fence-top, but the young man 
 was too deeply engrossed with his painful 
 effort to rise to observe the look, although her 
 ghange of tone aroused his curiosity. Was 
 this scrawny but good-natured kid afraid some 
 of her people would catch her talking to a 
 stranger by the roadside? 
 
 Somehow he managed to hobble, with her 
 aid, across the little bridge and down the bank 
 of the swiftly racing brook at its farther side 
 to a nest in the dense thicket of willow-shoots 
 which completely screened them from the 
 road. 
 
 The girl eased him down then upon the 
 sward, and, seating herself beside him, un- 
 rolled the apron she had carried. 
 
 "It's the ham that's greased it all up like 
 that," she remarked. "I'd have brought a
 
 8 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 pail, only I didn't want to take any more 'n 
 I had to." 
 
 The young man gasped with astonishment 
 as the contents of the apron-bundle were ex- 
 posed: a whole ham glistening with the 
 brown sugar in which it had been baked, a 
 long knife, a huge loaf of bread, and, wrapped 
 separately in a piece of newspaper, a bar of 
 soap, a box of matches, and a bit of broken 
 comb. 
 
 "When there's lots of them, ham sand- 
 wiches, together with spring water, ain't so 
 bad, an' it's near noon," the girl observed, be- 
 ginning to cut the loaf into meager slices with 
 a practised hand. "I should 've made them 
 thicker, but I forgot." 
 
 A starving gleam had come into the young 
 man's eyes at the sight of food, but he paused 
 with the sandwich half-way to his lips to 
 glance keenly at his companion. 
 
 "You've enough here for an army," he de- 
 clared. "Were you taking it to men working 
 in the fields somewhere?" 
 
 "No," she replied without hesitation, but 
 with the same air of finality with which she
 
 A ROADSIDE MEETING 9 
 
 had responded to his first question. "You can 
 rest easy here till sundown, when the men 
 begin to come in from the harvesting an' then 
 if you holler real loud some of them will 
 maybe stop an' give you a lift on your way. 
 There's a railroad about four miles from here, 
 an' the slow freight goes by along about ten." 
 
 The slow freight! So the girl thought he 
 was a tramp! The young man smiled, and 
 glanced down ruefully at his shabby attire. 
 Well, so had others thought, whom he had en- 
 countered in his journey. 
 
 But who and what was the girl herself? 
 She had asked no questions as to how he had 
 come to the condition in which she found him, 
 but had nursed his hurt, brought him to this 
 cool resting-place; and was sharing her food 
 with him as unconcernedly as though she had 
 known him all her life. 
 
 That quantity of provisions, the package of 
 humble toilet articles, and her furtiveness and 
 haste to get away from the open road all 
 pointed to one fact the girl was running 
 away. But from whom or what? She had 
 taken him at his face value, and he had no
 
 io ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 right in the world to question her, at least 
 without giving some sort of account of him- 
 self. 
 
 "I have no intention of traveling by rail," 
 he assured her. "A little while before you 
 found me I don't quite know how long I 
 was crossing that pasture which adjoins the 
 wheat-field, thinking that this road might be 
 a short cut to Hudsondale, when something 
 came after me from behind and butted me 
 over the fence. I think my head must have 
 been cut open by striking against a stone, for 
 I don't remember anything more until you 
 poured that water over my face." 
 
 The girl nodded. 
 
 "I seen the stone with blood on it right near 
 you; you must have bumped off it an' turned 
 over," she averred. "Anybody who goes 
 traipsin' through old Terwilliger's pasture 
 is apt to meet up with that bull of his." 
 
 So she had reasoned his predicament out 
 without asking any of the questions that an- 
 other girl would have heaped upon him. 
 
 He turned to her suddenly with a fresh 
 spark of interest in his eyes.
 
 A ROADSIDE MEETING 11 
 
 "How did you know that I didn't belong 
 here?" he demanded. 
 
 The corners of her lips curled upward in a 
 comical little grimace of amusement, and he 
 realized that before they had been set in a 
 straight line far too mature for her evident 
 youth. 
 
 "No grown men 'round these parts wears 
 short pants, an', anyhow, I knew you were 
 different from the way you talk; somethin* 
 like the welfare workers, with the hell an' 
 brimstone left out," the girl replied soberly. 
 "I'm goin' to talk like you some day." 
 
 It was the first remark she had made volun- 
 tarily concerning herself, and he was quick 
 to seize his advantage. 
 
 "Who are you, young lady? You've been 
 awfully kind to me, and I don't know to whom 
 my gratitude is due." 
 
 "Not to anybody." She turned her head 
 away slightly, but not before he saw a flush 
 mount beneath the superficial coating of 
 freckles, and marveled at the whiteness of 
 her skin. Hers was not the leathery tan of the 
 typical farmer's daughter, inured to all
 
 12 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 weathers, yet her hands, although small, were 
 toil-worn, and there was an odd incongruity 
 between her dark eyes and the pale, flaxen 
 hue of that ridiculous wisp of a braid. 
 
 "I didn't do any more for you than I'd do 
 for a dog if I found him lyin' there." 
 
 Her naive sincerity robbed the statement of 
 its uncomplimentary suggestion, and the 
 young man chuckled, but persisted. 
 
 "What is your name?" Mine is James 
 er Botts." 
 
 "Lou Lacey. It was *L' day, you know, an' 
 there was a teeny bit of lace on my dress. I 
 ain't ever had any since." 
 
 She added the last with unconscious pathos 
 in her tones, but in his increasing interest and 
 mystification the man who called himself 
 "Botts" was unaware of it. What on earth 
 could she mean about L day, and if she were 
 running away why did she appear so serenely 
 unconcerned about the future as her manner 
 indicated? 
 
 He felt that he must draw her out, and he 
 seemed to have hit upon the right method by 
 giving confidence for confidence ; but just how
 
 A ROADSIDE MEETING 13 
 
 much could he tell her about himself? James 
 Botts's own face reddened. 
 
 "I'm walking to my home in New York," 
 he explained. "But I'm late ; I ought to make 
 it by a certain date, and I don't think I'll be 
 able to, since my encounter with Terwilliger's 
 bull. Where do you live? I mean, where are 
 you going? Where is your home?" 
 
 "Nowheres," Lou Lacey replied off- 
 handedly, following with her eyes the grace- 
 ful swoop of a dragonfly over the tumbling 
 waters of the little stream. 
 
 "Great Scott!" The astounded young 
 man sat up suddenly, with his hand to his 
 head. "Why, everybody has a home, you 
 know!" 
 
 "Not everybody," the girl dissented quietly. 
 
 "But but surely you haven't been walk- 
 ing the roads?" 
 
 "There was genuine horror in his tones. 
 "Where did you come from this morning 
 when you found me?" 
 
 "From Hess's farm, back up the road a 
 piece," she replied with her usual unemo- 
 tional literalness. "I been there a week, but
 
 I 4 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 I didn't like it, so I came away. The wel- 
 fare workers got me that place when my time 
 was up." 
 
 Her time I Good Heavens, could this little 
 country girl with her artless manner and can- 
 did eyes be an ex-convict? Surely she was too 
 young, too simple. Yet the gates of hideous 
 reformatories had clanged shut behind 
 younger and more innocent-appearing delin- 
 quents than she. 
 
 His eyes wandered over her thin, childish 
 figure as she sat there beside him, still intent 
 upon the movements of the glittering dragon- 
 fly, and he shuddered. Those horrible, 
 shapeless shoes might very well have been 
 prison-made, and the striped dress was ex- 
 actly like those he had seen in some pictures 
 of female convicts. Her freckles, too, might 
 have been the result of only a few days' ex- 
 posure to the sun, and he had already observed 
 the whiteness of the skin beneath ; that white- 
 ness which resembled the prison pallor. 
 
 Could it be that her very gawkiness and 
 frank simplicity were the result not of bucolic 
 nature, but of dissimulation? Every instinct
 
 A ROADSIDE MEETING 15 
 
 within the man cried out against the thought, 
 but a devil of doubt and uncertainty drove 
 him on. 
 
 "I thought that didn't look like the dress of 
 a farmer's daughter!" He essayed to laugh, 
 but it seemed to him that there was a grating 
 falsetto in his tones. "You haven't worked in 
 the garden much, either, have you?" 
 
 "Garden!" Lou sniffed. "They promised 
 the welfare workers that they'd give me out- 
 door chores to build me up, but when I got 
 there I found I had to cook for eighteen farm- 
 hands, as well as the family, an' wait on them, 
 an' clean up an' all. Said they'd pay me 
 twelve dollars a month, an' I could take the 
 first month's money out by the week in clothes, 
 an' for the first week all they gave me was this 
 sunbonnet an' apron. I left them the other 
 dress an' things I had, an' I figgered the rest 
 of the money they owed me would just about 
 pay for this ham an' bread an' the knife an' 
 soap. The comb was mine." 
 
 She added the last in a tone of proud pos- 
 session, and James Botts asked very soberly: 
 
 "The welfare workers found this position
 
 16 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 for you, Lou Lacey? But where did they find 
 you?" 
 
 "Why, at the institootion," she responded, 
 as though surprised that he had not already 
 guessed. "I ain't ever been anywhere else; 
 I've always been a orphin."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 PARTNERS 
 
 FOR a moment James Botts turned his 
 head away lest she see the deep red 
 flood of shame which had suffused his face. 
 Poor little skinny, homely, orphan kid, 
 thrown out to buck the world for herself, and 
 stopping in her first flight from injustice to 
 help a stranger, only to have him think her 
 a possible criminal! He was glad that his 
 back twinged and his head throbbed ; he ought 
 to be kicked out into the ditch and left to die 
 there for harboring such thoughts. 
 
 He was a cur, and she hang it I There 
 was something appealing about her in spite 
 of her looks. Perhaps it was the sturdy self- 
 reliance, which in itself betrayed her utter in- 
 nocence and ignorance of the world, that made 
 a fellow want to protect her. 
 
 In his own circle James Botts had never 
 17
 
 :8 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 been known as a Sir Galahad, but he had been 
 away from his own circle for exactly nineteen 
 eventful days now, and in that space of time 
 he had learned much. His heart went out in 
 sympathy as he turned once more to her. 
 
 But at the moment Lou Lacey seemed in no 
 momentary need of sympathetic understand- 
 ing. She was pursuing a hapless frog with 
 well-directed shots of small pebbles, and 
 there was an impish grin upon her face. 
 
 "How old are you?" he asked suddenly. 
 
 Lou shrugged. 
 
 "I don't know. About seventeen or eigh- 
 teen, I reckon; at least, they told me six years 
 ago that I was twelve, an' I've kept track ever 
 since. When I was sixteen, though, and it 
 was time for me to be got a place somewhere, 
 the matron put me back a couple of years; 
 we were gettin' more babies from the poor 
 farm than usual, an' I was kinder handy with 
 them. She had to let me go now because one 
 of the visitin' deaconesses let out that she'd 
 seen me there sixteen years ago herself, an' I 
 was toddlin' round then. Oh, I missed him!" 
 
 The frog, with a triumphant plop, had dis-
 
 PARTNERS 19 
 
 appeared beneath a flat, submerged stone, and 
 Lou turned to note her companion's pain- 
 drawn face. 
 
 "I'm goin' to fix that bandage on your head 
 again," she declared as she sprang to her feet. 
 "Is your back hurtin' you very much?" 
 
 "Not very." He forced a smile, but his 
 face was grave, for, despite his suffering, the 
 problem which this accidental meeting had 
 forced upon him filled his thoughts. What 
 was he to do with this girl? In spite of the 
 statement that she had "kept track" of her last 
 few years he could not credit the fact that she 
 was approximately eighteen; fourteen would 
 be nearer the guess he would have made, and 
 it was unthinkable that a child like that 
 should wander about the country alone. 
 
 He could not bear the thought of betraying 
 her innocent confidences by handing her over 
 to the nearest authorities; it would mean her 
 being held as a vagrant and possibly sent to 
 the county poor-farm. Perhaps the people 
 with whom she had been placed were not so 
 bad, after all ; if he took her back and reasoned 
 with them, insisted upon their keeping to
 
 20 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 their bargain, and giving her lighter tasks to 
 perform. 
 
 Then he remembered his own appearance, 
 and smiled ruefully. Instead of listening they 
 would in all probability set the dog on him. 
 Perhaps he could persuade her to return of 
 her own accord. 
 
 "The people you were working for; their 
 name was 'Hess'?" he asked. 
 
 She nodded as she finished fastening the 
 cool compress about his forehead. 
 
 "Henry Hess an' his wife, Freida, an' an' 
 Max." 
 
 Something in the quality of her tone more 
 than her hesitation made him demand 
 sharply: 
 
 'Who is Max?" 
 
 "Their son." Her voice was very low, but 
 for the first time it trembled slightly. 
 
 "You don't like him, do you?" He waited 
 a moment, and then added abruptly: "Why 
 not?" 
 
 "Because he's a a beast! I don't want to 
 talk about him! I don't want even to remem- 
 ber that such things as he is can be let live!"
 
 PARTNERS 21 
 
 James Botts turned and looked at her and 
 then away, for the childish figure had been 
 drawn up tensely with a sort of instinctive 
 dignity which sat not ill upon it, and from 
 her dark eyes insulted womanhood had 
 blazed. 
 
 "I'd like to go back and lick him to a stand- 
 still !" to his own utter amazement Botts heard 
 his own voice saying thickly. 
 
 The fire had died out of Lou's face and 
 she replied composedly: 
 
 "What for? He don't matter any more, 
 does he? We're goin' on." 
 
 The last sentence recalled his problem once 
 more to his mind. What in the world was he 
 to do with this young creature whom fate had 
 thrust upon his hands? Four quarters and a 
 fifty-cent piece represented his entire capital 
 at the moment, and if he did put her into 
 the hands of the county authorities until his 
 journey was completed and he could make 
 other arrangements for her, it would mean a 
 delay on his part now, when every hour 
 counted for so much just now*
 
 22 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "Do you know how far we are from Hud- 
 sondale?" he asked. 
 
 "Not more 'n two miles, the farm-hands 
 used to walk there often of an evenin' to the 
 movies." 
 
 The girl had cleaned her knife in the brook 
 and was now wrapping it in the apron, 
 together with the remains of their repast. 
 
 "They say that not more'n twenty miles 
 from there you can see the big river, but I 
 ain't ever been." 
 
 "That's the way I was going," he observed 
 thoughtlessly. "From Hudsondale to High- 
 vale, and right on down the west bank of the 
 river to New York." 
 
 Lou sat back on her heels reflectively. 
 
 "All right," she said at last. "I ain't ever 
 figgered on goin's far as New York, but I 
 might as well go there as anywhere, and I 
 guess I kin keep up with you now your back's 
 kinder sprained. We'll go along together." 
 
 James Botts gulped. 
 
 "Certainly not!" he retorted severely, when 
 he could articulate. "It's utterly out of the 
 question ! You're not a little child any longer,
 
 PARTNERS 23 
 
 and I'm not old enough to pose as your father. 
 You must think what people would say!" 
 
 "Why must I?" Her clear eyes shamed 
 him. "What's it matter? I guess two kin 
 puzzle out the roads better than one, an' if I 
 have been in a brick house with a high fence 
 an' a playground between where never a 
 blade of grass grew, for about eighteen years, 
 it looks to me as if I could take care of myself 
 a lot better 'n you kin!" 
 
 "But you don't understand!" he groaned. 
 "There are certain conditions that I can't very 
 well explain, and if I did you'd think I had 
 gone crazy." 
 
 "Maybe," Lou observed non-committally, 
 but she settled herself on the bank once more 
 with such an air of resigned anticipation that 
 he felt forced to continue. 
 
 "You know an army has to obey orders, 
 don't you?" he floundered on desperately. 
 "Well, I'm like a one-man army; there are 
 a lot of rules I've got to follow. This is Mon- 
 day afternoon, and I must reach New York 
 by midnight on Saturday; that's ninety miles 
 or more, and you never could make it in the
 
 24 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 world. I've got just a dollar and a half, and 
 I mustn't beg, borrow, or steal food or a lift 
 or anything, but work my way, and never take 
 any job that'll pay me more than twenty-five 
 cents. 
 
 "Of course, II people invite me to get up 
 and ride with them for a little I can accept, 
 or if they offer me food, but I can't ask. Even 
 the money I earn in quarters here and there 
 I mustn't use for traveling, but only to buy 
 food or medicine or clothes with. And the 
 worst of it is that I cannot explain to a soul 
 why I'm doing all this." 
 
 Lou regarded him gravely, and opened Her 
 lips to speak, but closed them again and for an 
 appreciable moment there was silence. 
 
 "Well, I don't see anythin' in that that says 
 you can't have somebody travelin' along with 
 you," she remarked, and that odd little smile 
 flashed again across her face. "It don't make 
 any difference to me what you can or can't 
 do. I'm foot-loose!" 
 
 Not until later was the meaning of that 
 final statement to be made manifest to her 
 companion; the one fact upon his mind was
 
 PARTNERS 25 
 
 that nothing he had said had moved her an 
 iota from her original decision. They would 
 go along together. 
 
 Well, why not? It was obvious that he 
 could not send her back to the Hess farm 
 nor hand her over to the authorities. His 
 own appearance would not be conducive to 
 confidence in his assurances if he attempted 
 to leave her in the care of some country 
 woman until he could return and make proper 
 arrangements for her, and the only alternative 
 was that she must tramp the roads by herself 
 until she found work, and that was out of the 
 question. 
 
 At least, he could protect her, and she 
 looked wiry in spite of her skinniness; it was 
 as possible that she might make the distance 
 as he, with his aching back. But on one point 
 he was determined: when they neared the 
 suburbs of New York he would telephone to 
 a certain gray-haired, aristocratically high- 
 nosed old lady and persuade her to send out 
 her car for this waif. 
 
 The child had been kind to him, and he 
 would protect her from all harm, but not for
 
 26 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 all the gilt-edged securities in Wall Street 
 would he have the story of his knight-errantry 
 get abroad, nor the unprepossessing heroine 
 of it revealed to his friends. 
 
 The old lady would find some suitable po- 
 sition for her, and, as she evidently possessed 
 no reputation of any sort at the moment, a six- 
 day journey in his company could harm it no 
 more if the truth became known than if she 
 had tramped upon her way alone. 
 
 "All right," he said. "We'll be partners, 
 and I'll do my best to look out for you." 
 
 She laughed outright, a merry, tinkling 
 little laugh like the brook rippling over the 
 pebbles at her feet, and the man involuntarily 
 stared. It was the sole attractive thing about 
 her that he had observed. 
 
 "Reckon it'll be me that'll look after you!" 
 she retorted. "Oh, there's somethin' comin'l 
 Duck in here, quick!" 
 
 Seizing her bundle, she wiggled like an eel 
 through the willow thicket until she was com- 
 pletely hidden from view, and Botts followed 
 as well as he was able, with one hand fending
 
 PARTNERS 27 
 
 off the supple young shoots from whipping 
 back upon his wounded forehead. 
 
 He had heard nothing, yet the girl's quick 
 ears had caught the faint creaking of a cart 
 along the road, and now a cheerful but some- 
 what shrill whistle came to him in a vaguely 
 reminiscent strain. 
 
 "That's Lem Matties," Lou whispered as 
 she reached behind him and drew the willows 
 yet more screeningly about their trail. "He's 
 whistlin' 'Ida-Ho'; it's the only tune he can 
 remember." 
 
 "Who is he?" demanded her companion. 
 
 "The Hess's next-door neighbor. She'll 
 stop him right away an' ask if he's seen me 
 on the road, an' they'll all be after me, but 
 they'll never think of the old cow-trail; one 
 of the hands showed it to me an' told me it led 
 clear to Hudsondale, an' came out by the 
 freight-yards." 
 
 For a moment she paused with a little catch 
 in her breath. "Think you kin make it, Mr. 
 Botts?" 
 
 "Sure!" He smiled and held out his hand.
 
 28 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "We're partners now, and I'm 'Jim' to my 
 friends, Lou." 
 
 "All right, Jim," she responded indiffer- 
 ently, but she laid her little work-worn hand 
 in his for a brief minute. "Come on." 
 
 With the bundle under her arm once more 
 she led the way, and her partner followed her 
 to where the brook dwindled and the thicket 
 gave place to a stretch of woodland, between 
 the trees of which a faint, narrow trail could 
 be discerned. 
 
 "We're all right now if we kin keep on 
 goin'," announced Lou. "Nobody comes this 
 way any more, an' the feller said that the 
 tracks runs through the woods clear to the 
 Hunkie settlement by the yards. Feelin' all 
 right, Jim?" 
 
 "I guess so." Jim put his hand to his side, 
 where each breath brought a stab of pain, but 
 brought it down again quickly lest her swift 
 glance catch the motion. "It's pretty in here, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 "It's longer," replied Lou practically. "An' 
 the sun's gittin' low. Let's hurry." 
 
 There was little further talk between them,
 
 PARTNERS 29 
 
 ?or Jim had already discovered that his com- 
 panion was not one to speak unless she had 
 something to say, and he was breathing in 
 short snatches to stifle the pain. The track 
 wound endlessly in and out among the trees, 
 and in the dim light he would have lost it 
 altdgeth'er more than once had it not been for 
 her light touch upon his arm. 
 
 At length the track turned abruptly through 
 the thinning trees and led down to a rough 
 sort of road, on either side of which ram- 
 shackle wooden tenements leaned crazily 
 against each other, with dingy rags hanging 
 from lines on the crooked porches. Slat- 
 ternly, dark-skinned women gazed curiously 
 at them as they passed. 
 
 From somewhere came the squalling of a 
 hurt child and a man's oath roughly silencing 
 it, while through and above all other sounds 
 came the bleating of a harmonica ceaseless 
 reiterating a monotonous, foreign air. 
 
 The sun had set, and from just beyond the 
 squalid settlement came the crash and clang 
 of freight-cars being shunted together. In 
 spite of his pain, Jim realized that nowhere
 
 30 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 in this vicinity could his self-constituted com- 
 panion rest for the night; oper. fields or dense 
 woodland were safer far for her, 
 
 "Let us cross the tracks and push on up that 
 hill road a little," he suggested. "We can't 
 stay here, and they'll think we are tramps if 
 they catch us by the railroad." 
 
 "I guess that's what we are." Lou wrinkled 
 her already upturned nose. "But the country 
 would be nicer again, if you ain't give 
 out." 
 
 He assured her doggedly that he had not, 
 and they crossed the tracks and started up the 
 steep hill road past the coal-dump and the 
 few scattered cottages to where the woodland 
 closed in about them once more. 
 
 Jim picked up a stout stick and leaned 
 heavily upon it as they plodded along, while 
 the twilight deepened to darkness and the stars 
 appeared. The girl's step lagged now, but 
 she kept up in little spurts and set her lips 
 determinedly. 
 
 At length they came to another stream, a 
 rushing mill-race this time, with an old mill, 
 moss-covered and fallen into decay beside it,
 
 PARTNERS 31 
 
 and by tacit consent they sank down on the 
 worn step. 
 
 "I don't believe we can go any farther," 
 Jim panted. "I guess this is as good a place 
 as any to camp for the night, and you can 
 sleep in there." 
 
 He indicated the sagging door behind him, 
 and Lou followed his gesture with a reluctant 
 eye. Jim noted the glance and, misunder- 
 standing it, added hastily: 
 
 "I don't believe there are any rats in there, 
 but if you'll lend me your matches I'll see." 
 
 "Rats!" she repeated in withering scorn. 
 "There was plenty of them in the insti 
 where I come from. I was just thinkin' 
 maybe somebody else was sleepin' there 
 already." 
 
 She handed over the matches and Jim 
 pushed open the door and entered, feeling 
 carefully for rotten boards in the decayed 
 flooring. A prolonged survey by the flick- 
 ering light of the matches assured him that 
 the ancient, cobwebbed place was deserted, 
 and he turned again to the door, but its step 
 was unoccupied and nowhere in the starlight
 
 32 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 could he discern a flutter of that blue-and- 
 white striped dress. 
 
 Could she have run away from him? At 
 the thought a forlorn sense of loneliness swept 
 over him greater than he had known since 
 he had started upon his tramp. She was tired 
 out; could he in some way have frightened 
 her, or had a mad spirit of adventure sent her 
 on like a will-o'-the-wisp into the night? 
 
 "Lou!" he called, and his voice echoed 
 back. "Lou!" 
 
 All at once he noticed what he had not ob- 
 served before a single light by the roadside 
 in a clearing ahead. Perhaps she had gone 
 there for more secure shelter. 
 
 His cogitations were abruptly" interrupted 
 by a dog's excited barking, subdued by dis- 
 tance, but deep-throated. The sound came 
 from the direction of the clearing, and, taking 
 up his heavy stick, Jim hobbled to the road. 
 If Lou had got into any trouble 
 
 The barking turned to growls; horrible, 
 crunching growls which brought his heart up 
 into his throat as he broke into a run, for- 
 getting his pain. He had not gained the toj>
 
 PARTNERS 33 
 
 of the rise in the road, however, when the 
 growls gave place to wild yelps and howls 
 which rapidly diminished in the distance and 
 presently Lou appeared holding carefully 
 before her something round and white which 
 gleamed in the starlight. * 
 
 "Good Heavens!" he exclaimed when she 
 neared him. "What on earth have you been 
 doing?" 
 
 "Git on back 'round the other side of the 
 mill!" ordered Lou. "I gotta go slow or I'll 
 spill it." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 But she vouchsafed him no reply until they 
 reached a ledge of rock over the tumbling 
 stream, well out of sight of that light on the 
 hill. Then she set down the object she was 
 carrying and he saw that it was a bright tin 
 pan, rilled almost to the brim with milk. 
 
 "I thought it would go good with our bread 
 an' ham," she explained ingenuously. "I fig- 
 gered from what I learned at that Hess place 
 that they'd leave some out in the summer cel- 
 lar to cream, for they ain't got any spring- 
 house, an' they won't be likely to miss one
 
 34 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 pan out of fifteen. Besides, there's nothin' in 
 them rules you told me that stops me from 
 beggin' or borrowin', or stealin', either, an' if 
 I give you some of this you ain't got any call 
 to ask me where it come from." 
 
 This feminine logic left Jim almost speech- 
 less, but he managed to gasp out: 
 
 "The dog! Didn't he attack you?" 
 
 "I guess that was what he intended, but I 
 put down the pan an' fit him off." She added, 
 with evident pride. "I never spilled a drop, 
 either!" 
 
 "Good Lord!" Jim ejaculated. "I believe 
 you'd do anything once!" 
 
 "I b'lieve I would, provided I wanted to," 
 Lou agreed placidly. Then her tone changed. 
 "There's somebody comin' up the road from 
 Hudsondale like all in creation was after 
 
 'em." 
 
 Indeed, the sound of a horse's mad gallop 
 up the steep road by which they had come 
 was plainly to be heard increasing in volume, 
 and the grating jar of wheels as though a 
 wagon were being thrown from side to side. 
 
 "Think it's a runaway?" Jim rose and
 
 PARTNERS 35 
 
 strained his eyes into the darkness at the 
 farther end of the bridge. 
 
 "No; driver's drunk, maybe," Lou re- 
 sponded. "The horse's dead beat an' he's 
 lashin' it on. Listen!" 
 
 Jim heard the wild gallop falter and drop 
 into a weary trot, only to leap forward again 
 with a wild scramble of hoofs on the rocky 
 road as though the wretched animal was 
 spurred on by sudden pain, and he clenched 
 his hands. 
 
 As though reading his thoughts, Lou re- 
 marked : 
 
 "Only a beast himself would treat a horse 
 that way. The folks at the farm where I was 
 treated theirs somethin' terrible. If he don't 
 look out he'll go over the side of the bridge." 
 
 Jim had already started for the road in 
 front of the mill, and Lou followed him, just 
 as a perilously swaying lantern came to view, 
 showing an old-fashioned carriage of the 
 "buggy" type containing a single occupant 
 and drawn by a horse which was streaked with 
 lather. 
 
 The light wagon hit the bridge with a
 
 36 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 bounce which almost sent it careening over 
 into the rushing stream below, and at the same 
 moment Lou uttered an odd exclamation, 
 more of anger than fear, and straightened up 
 to her full height. 
 
 "It's Max!" she informed Jim. "You git 
 back behind the mill; you ain't fit to 
 fight " 
 
 "What do you take me for?" Jim de- 
 manded indignantly. "Max Hess, eh? The 
 fellow who treated you so badly back at that 
 farm? I wanted to get him this morning, the 
 hound! You go straight back into the mill 
 yourself, and leave me to handle him." 
 
 But he was too late. The wagon had 
 crossed the bridge and halted in front of them 
 so suddenly that the horse slid along for a 
 pace upon his haunches. 
 
 "Got yer!" a thick voice announced tri- 
 umphantly, as a burly figure wrapped the 
 reins around the whip socket and lumbered to 
 the ground. "Yah! I thought there was a 
 feller in it, somewheres !" 
 
 He approached them with menacingly 
 clenched fists, but Jim asked coldly:
 
 PARTNERS 37 
 
 "Are you addressing this young woman?" 
 
 "Young thief, you mean! She's gotter 
 come " 
 
 But Jim, too, had advanced a pace. 
 
 "Take that back and get in your wagon and 
 beat it," he announced distinctly, with a calm- 
 ness which the other mistook for mildness. 
 "If your name is Hess, this young woman is 
 not going back with you, and I warn you now 
 to be off." 
 
 "So that's it, is it?" the heavy voice sneered. 
 "She's my mother's hired girl, an' she stole a 
 lot o' food an' ran away this mornin'. Comes 
 o' takin' in an asylum brat " 
 
 "Take that back, too, you blackguard!" 
 Jim's voice was beginning to shake. 
 
 "Take nothin' back, 'cept Lou ! What's she 
 'doin' with you, anyway? Might ha 1 knowed 
 she was this sort " 
 
 He got no further, for something landed 
 like a hammer upon his nose and the blood 
 streamed down between his thick lips, chok- 
 ing him. With an inarticulate roar of rage 
 he lowered nis bull neck and drove at the 
 other man, but the other man wasn't there!
 
 38 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 Then another light, stinging blow landed 
 upon his fat face and he flailed out again with 
 a force that turned him completely around, 
 for again his adversary had danced out of his 
 way. 
 
 Every drop of bad blood in the lout was 
 aroused now, for he was the bully and terror 
 of his community, and he could not under- 
 stand this way of fighting, nor why his own 
 blows failed to land when this tramp could 
 dodge in and punish him apparently when- 
 ever he chose. 
 
 Jim was many pounds lighter, and although 
 the science of boxing was not unknown to him, 
 he was dog-tired and his wrenched back agon- 
 ized him at every move. The sheer weight 
 of the other man was bearing him down, and 
 Hess seemed to realize it, for with a grunt of 
 satisfaction he swung in and landed a stiff 
 body blow which staggered his adversary. 
 
 Hess's left eye was closed, and his lips split, 
 but he hammered at his man relentlessly, and 
 at length caught him with a blow which 
 brought him to his knees. All the bully's 
 t blood-lust boiled _at_sight of his half -fallen
 
 PARTNERS 39 
 
 victim, and he drew back his heavily shod 
 foot for a murderous kick, but it was never 
 delivered. 
 
 Something caught that foot 'from behind 
 and tripped him heavily into the dust, then 
 landed upon him like a wildcat and bit and 
 tore at him until with a scream of pain he 
 managed to throw it off. Even as he struggled 
 to his feet it sprang again upon him, kicking 
 and clawing, and he turned quickly, and 
 scrambling into the buggy seat, gathered up 
 the reins. 
 
 Lou stood where he had torn himself from 
 her grasp, listening to the volley of oaths and 
 clatter of horses's feet until both had been 
 swallowed up in the distance. Then she 
 turned to where Jim stood swaying, with one 
 hand pressed to his side, and the blood from 
 the reopened cut upon his forehead making 
 his face look ghastly in the starlight. 
 
 "Well," she remarked with satisfaction. "I 
 guess he got more 'n he come for, an' we've 
 seen the last of him!" 
 
 "But Lou!" There was admiration and 
 awe in his tones. "Your method of fighting
 
 40 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 isn't in the Queensberry rules, although I 
 must say it was effective. I was going to try 
 to protect you, and it turned out the other 
 way!" 
 
 "Don't know what queen you're talkin' 
 about, nor what rules she made, but when / 
 fight, I fight with everything I've got," Lou 
 declared with finality. "Come and let me fix 
 up your head again, an' we'll have supper." 
 
 An hour later and throughout the night, a 
 slim little figure, rolled in a man's shabby 
 coat, lay sleeping peacefully in a corner of the 
 mill, while on the doorstep in his shirt sleeves 
 and with a stout cudgel across his knees, a 
 weary man drowsed fitfully, on guard.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE VENDOR OF EVERYTHING 
 
 WHEN Lou awakened the next morning 
 at dawn it was her turn to find herself 
 deserted, but the fact failed to arouse any mis- 
 givings in her mind. She had found in her 
 brief experience with menfolks that they were 
 mostly queer, one way or another, but this one 
 was dependable, and she felt no doubt that he 
 would turn up when he got ready. 
 
 Unwrapping her bundle, she took the 
 apron, soap, and broken comb, and wandered 
 down the bank of the stream until in the se- 
 clusion beneath the bridge she came upon a 
 pool formed by outjutting rocks, where she 
 performed her limited toilet. Then, scrub- 
 bing the greasy apron vigorously, she hung 
 it on a bramble bush behind the mill to dry, 
 and scuttling across the road, made for 
 
 41
 
 42 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 the woods back of the house where she had 
 committed her nocturnal depredation. 
 
 An hour later when Jim came slowly up 
 the hill road from the direction of Hudson- 
 dale, he saw a tiny smudge of smoke rising 
 from a rock well hidden in the rank under- 
 growth at the edge of the stream, and ap- 
 proaching it found Lou industriously brush- 
 ing her coat with a broom which he had 
 improvised of small twigs tied together. Be- 
 side her, carefully cradled in her sunbonnet, 
 were half a dozen new-laid eggs. 
 
 "Good morning." He greeted her with a 
 little bow, and sank down on the rock. "Were 
 you frightened to find yourself left all alone?" 
 
 "Oh, no. I knew you would come back," 
 she replied serenely. Then, as she noted his 
 glance fall upon the eggs she added in swift 
 self-defense: "You needn't think I stole 
 those; I found them back in the woods a piece. 
 O-oh!" 
 
 He had carried a large paper package 
 under his arm, and now as he unwrapped it 
 her wonderment changed to swift rapture. It 
 contained an overall apron of bright pink
 
 VENDOR OF EVERYTHING 43 
 
 check, a cheap straw hat, and a remnant of 
 green ribbon. 
 
 "I ain't had a pink dress since I was ten!" 
 Her dark eyes were perilously glistening. 
 "I'd almost have died for one, but you had to 
 wear blue after that, 'count of doin' work 
 'round. Oh, an' that hat! I kin put that rib- 
 bon on it as easy as " 
 
 She halted suddenly and lowered her eye- 
 lashes, adding: 
 
 "But you hadn't any call to buy them for 
 me; I can't pay you back right now." 
 
 Jim's reply was irrelevant. 
 
 "Why, your eyes aren't black, after all! 
 They're violet blue, the deepest blue I ever 
 saw!" Then he caught himself up, reddening 
 furiously, and after a moment said in a casual 
 tone : "That's all right about the things, Lou ; 
 you can pay me when you get some work to 
 do. Now, go fix yourself up, and we'll have 
 breakfast." 
 
 When she had disappeared into the mill he 
 cursed himself for a fool. The child had 
 trusted him as a comrade; what would she 
 think if he began paying her compliments?
 
 44 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 What had come over him, anyway? He had 
 seen women with violet-blue eyes in more 
 countries than one; beautiful women with 
 every enhancement which breeding and 
 wealth could bestow. It must have been sheer 
 surprise in discovering any attribute of pret- 
 tiness at all about so uncompromisingly 
 homely a girl as poor little Lou. 
 
 With this reassuring reflection he set about 
 replenishing the fire, and presently his com- 
 panion reappeared. The large, flapping hat 
 sat oddly upon her small head with its tightly 
 drawn-back hair, but the straight lines of the 
 all-enveloping pink gown brought out the 
 slender curves of her childish figure, and she 
 didn't seem quite so gawky, after all, as she 
 moved toward him over the rocks. 
 
 "My, you look nice!" he said cheerfully. 
 "I've brought some rolls from " 
 
 "We'll keep them for later," Lou inter- 
 rupted him firmly. "There's still the end of 
 the bread left, and goodness knows where 
 we'll eat again!" 
 
 They breakfasted gaily, drinking the re- 
 mainder of the milk first and then boiling the
 
 VENDOR OF EVERYTHING 45 
 
 eggs in the pan, but Lou's remark about their 
 next meal had made Jim think seriously of the 
 immediate future. He had assumed a respon- 
 sibility which he must fulfill, and his progress 
 thus far under the handicaps he had spoken 
 of had been difficult enough alone. 
 
 The little pink apron-frock had cost half of 
 his capital, the hat twenty-five cents more, 
 and the ribbon a dime. Five cents in addi- 
 tion for the rolls had left but thirty-five of the 
 preciously hoarded pennies, and he was 
 ninety miles from home, with a host of petty, 
 but formidable, restrictions barring his way, 
 and an adopted orphan on his hands. 
 
 He had been forced to turn his head sharply 
 away when he passed the village tobacco store, 
 for every nerve cried out for the solace of a 
 good pipe, but he felt more than repaid for 
 the sacrifice by Lou's honest rapture over the 
 poor things he had been able to get for her. 
 
 Breakfast finished, and the remainder of 
 the ham stowed away in the milk-pan, they 
 carefully skirted the house on the rise of the 
 hill, and coming out once more upon the road, 
 they forged ahead. The strained muscles of
 
 46 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 Jim's back and side were still sore, but they 
 troubled him less than the lack of a smoke, 
 and for Lou it was as though a new world had 
 opened before her eyes. 
 
 The pleasant, wheat-growing valley had 
 been left behind them, and the road from 
 being hilly grew steeper and more steep until 
 it became a mere rutted trail over the moun- 
 tains. More or less dilapidated farm-houses, 
 each with its patch of cleared ground, ap- 
 peared now and then, and before the gate of 
 one of these a huge, canvas-covered wagon 
 stood, bearing the ambitious legend : 
 
 TRAVELING DEPARTMENT STORE 
 BENJ. PERKINS 
 
 A genial-looking fat man in a linen duster 
 and a wide-brimmed hat was just clambering 
 in over the wheel when he spied the two 
 pedestrians gazing at the turnout, and called 
 good-naturedly: 
 
 "Want a lift? I'm goin' inter New Hartz." 
 "Thanks. That is just where we are going,
 
 VENDOR OF EVERYTHING 47 
 
 too," Jim replied promptly. "It's awfully 
 good of you to take us along." 
 
 "Git right in; plenty of room with me on 
 the front seat here," the proprietor of the ex- 
 traordinary department store responded 
 heartily. "Yer sister 'd be nigh tuckered out 
 ef you tried ter walk her inter town on a hot 
 day like this." 
 
 Jim hoisted Lou in over the big wheel and 
 as he climbed up beside her the driver slapped 
 the reins over the broad backs of the two 
 horses, and they were off. 
 
 "You are Mr. Perkins?" Jim asked, ignor- 
 ing the assumption of Lou's relationship to 
 him. 
 
 "That's me!" The other glanced at the 
 fresh bandage about the young man's head 
 which Lou had applied just before they 
 started out, and inquired: "You git hurt, 
 some ways?" 
 
 Jim explained briefly, and changed the 
 subject with a haste which would have been 
 significant to a less obtuse host. 
 
 "You seem to have a little of everything 
 back here in the van, Mr. Perkins."
 
 48 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "Reckon I hev," the other agreed com- 
 placently. "From a spool of thread to a 
 pitchfork, and from a baby rattle to wax 
 funeral wreaths, there ain't nothin' the folk 
 hereabout hev use for that I don't carry. The 
 big ottermobile order trucks don't hurt my 
 business none; I ben workin' up my trade 
 around here fer twenty year." 
 
 Mr. Perkins paused to draw a pipe and to- 
 bacco sack from his pocket, and Jim's throat 
 twitched. After filling the pipe the genial 
 pedler offered the sack. "Hev some?" 
 
 Jim hesitated, and his face reddened, but 
 at last he shook his head determinedly. 
 
 "Thanks; I I don't smoke." 
 
 Lou, who had hunched about in her seat to 
 stare at the assorted array of articles in the 
 body of the van, turned and looked curiously 
 at him. Surely that hard bulge in the coat 
 upon which she had slept on the previous 
 night had been the bowl of a pipe! The eyes 
 which Jim had called "violet blue" narrowed 
 for an instant in puzzled wonderment, then 
 blurred as with swift understanding she 
 glanced down at the new pink apron and
 
 VENDOR OF EVERYTHING 49 
 
 stroked it softly. But Jim had gone on talk- 
 ing rather nervously. 
 
 "You don't get much trade around here, do 
 you? Not many houses in these mountains." 
 
 "Oh, here and thar," Mr. Perkins replied 
 easily. "Here and thar." 
 
 The conversation which ensued was all 
 Greek to Lou, who took off her hat, leaned 
 her head against the side of the van, and went 
 peacefully to sleep. 
 
 She was awakened by a hand gently shak- 
 ing her shoulder and found that the van had 
 been halted in the middle of a maple-lined 
 street before a big house which bore a sign 
 labeled: "Congress Hotel." Busy little shops 
 shouldered it on either side, and a band-stand 
 stood in the open square. 
 
 "Come down, Lou." Jim stood on the side- 
 walk reaching up for her hands. t "This is 
 New Hartz." 
 
 Mr. Perkins was not in the van, but as Lou 
 scrambled over the wheel he appeared from 
 the door of the hotel. 
 
 "Young man, I wish I was goin' further, 
 but I ain't, and I want ter talk a little busi-
 
 50 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 ness with you." He drew Jim aside. "You 
 and your sister wouldn't ha' ben walkin' it in 
 from Hudsonvale if you could ha' paid ter 
 come any other way." 
 
 "No, Mr. Perkins." Jim backed away 
 smilingly. "We couldn't think of of bor- 
 rowing, but thanks for the ten-mile lift into 
 New Hartz." 
 
 "Glad ter hev your company." Mr. Per- 
 kins suddenly dived around to the back of the 
 van and his voice came to them muffled from 
 the depths of its interior. "Wait jest a 
 minute." 
 
 He emerged, red and perspiring, with a 
 small package wrapped in a square of some- 
 thing shimmering and white in his hands, 
 which he offered to the wondering Lou. 
 
 "It's jest a little present fer you, miss," he 
 said. 
 
 Lou accepted it gravely. 
 
 "Thank you, sir," she said primly. "You 
 ain't got any call to give me this, not after 
 bringin' us all the way from Hudsondale." 
 
 "I guess I can make a little present if I'm 
 a mind ter, ter a pretty little girl like you."
 
 VENDOR OF EVERYTHING 51 
 
 Mr. Perkins turned to Jim. "Wish yer both 
 luck on your way." 
 
 They took leave of the kindly little fat man 
 and moved off up the village street and beyond 
 the inevitable car tracks to the dwindling 
 country road once more. In the shade of a 
 big tree at a crossroads, Lou glanced up at 
 her companion. 
 
 "Could we set down here for a spell?" she 
 asked. "I ain't tired, Jim, but I feel like I'd 
 die if I can't open this!" 
 
 She gestured with Mr. Perkins's gift, and 
 Jim dropped laughingly on the grass. 
 
 "Of course. Let's see what's in it." 
 
 Gravely she seated herself beside him and 
 unknotted the square of white. It contained 
 three little handkerchiefs with pink borders, 
 a small bottle of particularly strong scent, and 
 a string of beads remotely resembling coral. 
 The square in which the articles had been 
 wrapped proved to be a large white silk 
 handkerchief with an American flag stamped 
 in the corner. 
 
 "That must be for you, Jim," Lou said 
 slowly. As in a trance she slipped the string
 
 5 2 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 of beads over her head, opened the bottle, and 
 poured a few drops of its contents upon one 
 of the little handkerchiefs, inhaling the rank 
 odor in ecstasy. 
 
 Jim watched her, amused but touched also. 
 To that luxury-starved little soul the coarse 
 handkerchiefs and cheap perfume meant 
 rapture, and he resolved to see that the gray- 
 haired lady in New York provided something 
 better for Lou than a servant's position. Edu- 
 cation, perhaps 
 
 "It must be past noon, for the shadows have 
 started to go the other way." Her voice broke 
 in upon his meditations. "We'd better eat the 
 rolls an' ham now. How far is it to where 
 we're goin'?" 
 
 "Eight miles; I'm afraid it is a long way 
 for you " 
 
 "Then the sooner we git started the better," 
 the girl interrupted. "I'll take the pan an' 
 run back to that yellow house we just passed 
 for some water." 
 
 Without waiting for a reply she tilted the 
 little scent bottle carefully against the tree- 
 trunk and departed, while Jim stretched him-
 
 VENDOR OF EVERYTHING 53 
 
 self out luxuriously in the grateful shade. He 
 was tired, and the still heat of noon had a 
 stupefying effect. Lou seemed long in return- 
 ing, and his thoughts grew nebulous until he 
 finally drifted off into slumber. 
 
 When he awakened the shadows had 
 lengthened to those of mid-afternoon, and 
 their was a delicious, unaccustomed aroma 
 in the air. He gazed about him in a be- 
 wildered fashion to find Lou sitting cross- 
 legged in the grass, and spread upon it on the 
 apron between them were the rolls and ham, 
 and a huckleberry pie, still warm, and fairly 
 exuding juice. 
 
 "Good Lord, where did you get it?" he 
 demanded. 
 
 "Remember that yellow house where I went 
 to git water?" Lou laughed, but there was a 
 new note of shyness in her voice. "When we 
 passed it first I saw that the currant bushes 
 were just loaded down, an' a woman was out 
 pickin' them, though it's ironin' day. I fig- 
 gered if I pick for her she'd maybe pay me, 
 an' she did. I I guessed you was out of 
 this."
 
 54 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 The freckles disappeared in a rosy blush as 
 with a red-stained hand she held out a bag 
 of tobacco. 
 
 "Lou I Why, you you precious kid!" 
 Jim stammered. "You worked in all this heat, 
 while I lay here and slept." 
 
 "It wasn't far back to New Hartz, an' I'd 
 seen where the cigar-store was when we came 
 by. The woman at the house, she give me the 
 pie, an' I've got ten cents left besides. I never 
 had ten cents of my own before!"
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 UNDER THE BIG TOP 
 
 A VERY weary and dust-covered couple 
 trudged to the top of the last hill just 
 before sundown and paused, with Lou's hand 
 instinctively clutching Jim's arm. 
 
 "Is that it; the Hudson?" She pointed over 
 the fringe of treetops below them to the broad, 
 winding ribbon of sparkling gray-blue, 
 touched here and there with the reflection of 
 the fleecy pink clouds drifting far overhead. 
 
 Jim turned to look at her, wondering what 
 reaction the view would have upon the emo- 
 tions of this child who, until a brief week ago, 
 had known only the "brick house with a high 
 fence and a playground where never a blade 
 of grass grew." 
 
 Her big eyes followed the river's course 
 
 55
 
 56 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 until it was lost in a creeping mist behind 
 high hills, and she drew a deep breath. 
 
 "How far does it go?" she asked. 
 
 "To New York; to the sea," he responded. 
 "The ocean, you know." 
 
 "My!" There was wonder and a certain 
 regret in her tone. "What a waste of good 
 wash-water 1" 
 
 Jim emitted an inarticulate remark, and 
 added hastily: 
 
 "Let us get along down into Highvale. I 
 must try to find a place for you to sleep, and 
 remember, Lou, you're my sister if anyone 
 starts to question you." 
 
 "All right; I don't mind, if you don't." 
 She gave the floppy hat a yank that slued the 
 ridiculous green bow to a more rakish angle, 
 and then stopped suddenly in the road. 
 "O-oh, look!" 
 
 A barn had been built close up to the side 
 of the fence, and freshly pasted upon it was 
 the vividly colored poster of a circus. The 
 enthusiastic admiration which she had denied 
 to her first view of the great river glowed now 
 in Lou's eyes, and she stood transfixed.
 
 57 
 
 "What is it, Jim? The pretty lady on the 
 horse an' the other one up on the swing thing 
 without without any skirt to her, and the 
 man with the funny pants an' the big hat that's 
 shootin' " 
 
 "There must be a circus in Highvale yes, 
 the date says to-night," Jim replied. 
 
 " Trimble & Wells Great Circus & Side- 
 show,' " she read slowly. "I heard about them 
 circuses; some of the children seen them 
 before they came to to where I was, an' once 
 one come to tow r n an' sent free tickets to us, 
 but the deaconesses said it was sinful an' so 
 we couldn't go. It don't look sinful to me; 
 it looks just grand grand!" 
 
 She could have stood for an hour drinking 
 in all the wonders of the poster, but Jim 
 hurried her on although he was filled with 
 sympathy. Poor little kid! What a rotten, 
 black sort of life she must have had, and how 
 he wished that he might take her to this 
 tawdry, cheap affair and watch her naive 
 enjoyment. 
 
 But their combined capital would not have 
 covered the price of the tickets, and there was
 
 58 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 supper to be thought of, and the hazards ol 
 the immediate future. For the present the 
 circus must remain an unattained dream to 
 Lou. 
 
 The steep little hill down to the village 
 seemed very long, and twilight was almost 
 upon them when they came to a big, open lot 
 upon which a circular tent was in process of 
 erection, with lesser oblong ones clustered at 
 one side. 
 
 A fringe of small boys and village loung- 
 ers lined the roadway watching the corps of 
 men who were working like beavers within 
 the lot, urged on by a bawling, cursing voice 
 which seemed to proceed from a stout, 
 choleric man who bounded about, alternately 
 waving his arms and cupping his hands to im- 
 provise a megaphone. 
 
 Jim was tired, and his side throbbed dully, 
 but a sudden inspiration came to him, and he 
 drew Lou over to the other side of the road. 
 
 "Sit down here and wait for me," he told 
 her. "I won't be long. That's where the 
 circus is going to be, and perhaps I can fix it 
 for you to see it."
 
 UNDER THE BIG TOP 59 
 
 Turning, he shouldered his way through 
 the knot of loungers, and entering the lot, ap- 
 proached the stout gentleman. 
 
 "Want an extra hand?" he asked. "Any- 
 thing from a ballyhoo to a rough-rider?" 
 
 The stout man wheeled and surveyed him 
 in momentarily speechless wrath at the inter- 
 ruption. Then his eyes narrowed apprais- 
 ingly as he noted the tall, lean, well-knit fig- 
 ure before him, and he demanded: 
 
 "How the h 1 did you know that the Wild 
 West act was all knocked to pieces?" 
 
 "It isn't now," Jim smiled. "Lend me a 
 horse and a pair of chaps, and I'll show you 
 in five minutes what's going to be your star 
 act to-night." 
 
 "You're no circus man, nor a Westerner, 
 neither." The boss still stared. "And you 
 don't look like a bum. What's your game, 
 anyway?" 
 
 "To pick up a little loose change and get 
 a horse between my knees again." 
 
 The thought of the forlorn little figure 
 which he had left by the roadside kept Jim's
 
 60 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 smile steady, and added a desperate artificial 
 buoyancy to his tired tones: 
 
 "Never mind who I am or where I came 
 from; I can ride, and that's what you want, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 There was an instant's pause, and then the 
 boss bawled a stentorian order and grabbed 
 him by the arm. 
 
 "Come on. I'll give you a chance to show 
 me what you can do, but if you're takin' up my 
 time on a bluff I'll break every bone in your 
 body!" 
 
 He led Jim to an open space behind the 
 tents where presently there appeared a living 
 convulsion in the shape of a bucking, squeal- 
 ing bronco seemingly held down to earth by 
 two sweating, shirtless men. 
 
 As Jim surveyed that wickedly lowered 
 head with its small eyes rolling viciously, his 
 heart misgave him for a moment. What if 
 he should fail? It was long since he had 
 practiced those rough-riding stunts that had 
 made him in demand for those society circuses 
 of the ante-bellum days, and longer yet since 
 he had learned to break a bronco on the ranch,
 
 UNDER THE BIG TOP 61 
 
 which had been Bill Hollis's hobby for a 
 season. 
 
 What if that devil of a pony should best 
 him in the struggle, and he should be thrown 
 ignominiously from the lot before the eyes of 
 the girl who was waiting patiently for him? 
 
 The next instant he had vaulted lightly into 
 the high, Western saddle, the two men had 
 jumped back, and the fight was on. The 
 bronco lashed out viciously with his heels, 
 leaped sidewise, and then, after a running 
 start, attempted to throw his rider over his 
 head, but Jim clung to him like a burr; he 
 flung himself down and rolled over, but the 
 young man jumped clear and was back into 
 the saddle as the enraged animal regained his 
 feet. 
 
 The struggle was strenuous but brief, and 
 Jim found himself rejoicing that none of the 
 old tricks had failed him, and that the wicked 
 little brute was realizing that he had at length 
 been mastered. 
 
 When the bronco was thoroughly subjected, 
 Jim rode quietly up to where fhe boss stood 
 with the two other men.
 
 62 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "Want me to pick up a handkerchief Tor 
 you, or any other of the old stunts, now?" he 
 asked. "Don't want to tire this old plug too 
 much for the show." 
 
 The boss chuckled. 
 
 "Get down and talk business with me, 
 young feller," he said. "You won't ride Jazz 
 in the ring to-night; he's the rottenest, most 
 treacherous little wretch with the outfit, and 
 I only put you on him to call your bluff. Want 
 to join the show? We had to leave our rough- 
 rider back in the last town with a broken leg." 
 
 Jim shook his head. 
 
 "Only for to-night," he replied. "My sister 
 and I are beating it South." 
 
 "Well, I'll give you five dollars- 
 
 "No, you won't," Jim smiled. "I'll work 
 for you to-night for just twenty-five cents." 
 
 "Say, you ain't bughouse, are you?" The 
 boss stared again. 
 
 "The fourth part of a dollar, two bits!" 
 Jim replied doggedly. Then his gaze wan- 
 dered as though casually over to the cook 
 tent, and he added : "However, if you could 
 suggest anything to two hungry people, and
 
 UNDER THE BIG TOP 63 
 
 something else for a little girl who has never 
 seen a circus, Mr. Trimble-and-Wells, and 
 who is waiting for me in the road " 
 
 The boss roared. 
 
 "D d if I don't think you're dippy, but 
 you certainly can ride like h 1!" he ex- 
 claimed. "I'll take you up on that; go get 
 the kid and bring her in to supper, and I'll 
 see that she gets a reserved seat for the show. 
 Holy smoke! A feller that can stick on 
 Jazz, and wants to work for a quarter!" 
 
 Thus it was that when the clown came 
 tumbling into the ring to the blaring of the 
 band that night, a girl with the green bow all 
 askew upon her hat and her violet-blue eyes 
 a shade darker and snapping with excitement 
 was perched on one of the front row planks 
 which served as seats, clutching a bag of pea- 
 nuts and waiting in an ecstasy for the wonders 
 about to be unfolded. 
 
 The ride in the pedler's van, the hours of 
 currant-picking, and the hot, hilly, eight-mile 
 trudge were forgotten, and she felt like pinch- 
 ing herself to see if she would wake up all of
 
 64 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 a sudden to find herself once more back in 
 the attic at the Hess farm. 
 
 The beautiful lady with the fluffy skirts 
 rode round the ring on tiptoe and jumped 
 through the flaming hoops at the behest of the 
 gentleman with the high silk hat and the long 
 whip; the other lady "without any skirt to 
 her" flew dizzily through the air from one 
 trapeze to the other, and the performing ele- 
 phant went through his time-worn tricks with 
 the air of a resigned philosopher, and still 
 Lou sat entranced. 
 
 Then the dingy curtains parted, and a man 
 loped easily into the ring on a wiry, little 
 Western horse. He was the same man she 
 had seen in the poster that afternoon; the one 
 with the funny pants and the big hat and the 
 red handkerchief knotted around his throat, 
 and he proceeded to do marvelous things. 
 
 It is highly probable that many a better ex- 
 hibition of rough-riding had been given be- 
 neath the big top, but to Lou, as to the vil- 
 lagers surrounding her in densely packed 
 rows, it was a supreme display of horseman- 
 ship, and they expressed themselves with
 
 UNDER THE BIG TOP 65 
 
 vociferous applause when he uncoiled a rope 
 from the peak of his saddle and dexterously 
 brought down the bewildered steer which had 
 been chivvied into the ring. 
 
 In the row directly in front of Lou sat a 
 quartet who were obviously out of place 
 among their bucolic neighbors, but as obvi- 
 ously bent on amusing themselves. The ladies 
 of the party wore brilliant sweaters beneath 
 their long silk motor coats, and veils floated 
 from their small round hats, and the gentle- 
 men wore long coats, too, and had goggles 
 pushed up on their caps. 
 
 Bits of their chatter, and low-voiced, well- 
 bred laughter drifted back to the girl's ears 
 between pauses in the louder comments of her 
 immediate neighbors and the intermittent din 
 of the band, and Lou was amazed. 
 
 Could it be that they were laughing at this 
 glorious, wonderful thing that was called a 
 "circus?" Were they ridiculing it, trying to 
 pretend that they had seen anything more 
 marvelous in all the world? 
 
 They didn't laugh at the rough-rider, she 
 noticed. The ladies applauded daintily, and
 
 66 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 once the stouter of the two gentlemen called 
 out: "Good work!" as the rider executed a 
 seemingly daring feat, and the other gentle- 
 man consulted his flimsy play bill. 
 
 Then all thought of the four was banished 
 from Lou's mind, for the rider had cantered 
 from the ring and dropped a large white 
 handkerchief upon the sawdust of the outer 
 circle just before her. Wasn't that bit of color 
 in a corner of a handkerchief an American 
 flag? Jim had told her that he was to do some 
 work outside for the circus people that night, 
 and the boss had kindly offered her a seat, but 
 that handkerchief 
 
 Suddenly the rider swept by with his horse 
 at a dead run, and swooping down, seized the 
 square of white in his teeth, and while the tent 
 rang with applause, Lou sat very still. It was 
 Jim! It was he, her "partner," whom the 
 people were all clapping their hands at, who 
 was doing all these wonderful things! But 
 his face had looked somewhat pale beneath 
 that big hat, and his smile sort of fixed. 
 
 The bandage was gone from his head, and 
 the plaster which had replaced it was hidden,
 
 UNDER THE BIG TOP 67 
 
 but she could not have been mistaken. What 
 if he were suffering, if his back and side were 
 paining him again? She recalled the exhaus- 
 tion with which he had slept at noontime, and 
 the long, weary hike that followed it, and 
 her heart contracted within her. It was for 
 her that he was doing this, so that she might 
 see the show! 
 
 One of the ladies in the seats before her 
 leaned forward and exclaimed: 
 
 "Didn't he look like Jimmie Abbott? If 
 we didn't know that he was on a fishing trip 
 up in Canada " 
 
 Lou did not catch the rest of the remark. 
 Her eyes were glued upon the rider and her 
 ears stilled to everything around her. With 
 a final flourish he dashed for the dingy cur- 
 tain at the exit and it parted to let him pass. 
 It did not close quickly enough behind him, 
 however; not quickly enough to conceal from 
 the gaping audience his lurching fall from 
 the saddle into the group of acrobats waiting 
 to come on in their turn. 
 
 Then it was that a small, pink-checked cy- 
 clone whirled through the rows of closely
 
 68 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 packed humanity and half-way round the 
 arena to the curtain, while above the clamor 
 of the band arose a shrill cry; "Jiml Jim!" 
 
 "Did you see her?" The lady who had 
 commented upon the rider's appearance de- 
 manded of the gentleman beside her. "She 
 called him Jim, too; isn't that odd? Do you 
 suppose, Jack, that she is with the circus; that 
 little country girl?" 
 
 "Oh, it was only part of the show," the 
 stout gentleman replied in a bored tone. "Or 
 else the chap was tight. He certainly rode as 
 if he had some red-eye tucked under his belt; 
 wonder where he got it around here?"
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THERE was a confused babel of sound in 
 Jim's ears when he awoke Wednesday 
 morning; hammering and clanging and the 
 squeak of ropes, shouting and cursing, and 
 now and then the roar or yell of some protest- 
 ing animal. 
 
 He was lying on a narrow bunk in a tent, 
 and opposite him a husky-looking individual 
 was climbing into a pair of checked trousers 
 and yawning vociferously. 
 
 Jim's head ached confoundedly, and he was 
 stiff and sore, but his mind cleared rapidly 
 from the mists of slumber. What sort of a 
 place was this, and how had he got there? 
 Then all at once he remembered, and there 
 came a horrifying thought. What had be- 
 come of Lou? 
 
 "Where's Lou? M my sister?" he de- 
 manded, sitting bolt upright.
 
 70 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "Hello, there! Come out of it all right, 
 did you?" The occupant of the tent hitched 
 a suspender over one shoulder and grinned 
 cheerfully. "The kid's took care of! She's 
 with Ma Billings. That was a nasty header 
 you took last night. O. K. now 7 ? We gotter 
 pull out in an hour." 
 
 "Oh, I'm all right; but say, did I pull that 
 bonehead stuff out there before all of them?" 
 Jim reddened beneath his tan at the thought. 
 "Fall off the horse like that, I mean?" 
 
 "In the ring? No, you made a grand exit, 
 and then slumped; nobody saw it but the little 
 girl, and she beat it right down to the ring 
 and out after you. Fit like a wildcat, too, 
 when we tried to keep her away from you till 
 we could find out what had struck you." The 
 other grinned once more. 
 
 "Some sister, ol'-timer! When we found 
 that big muscle bruise on your side, and she 
 told us that you had been tossed by a bull a 
 couple of days ago, we didn't wonder you 
 keeled over." 
 
 Jim sat up dizzily. 
 
 "It was mighty good of you people to take
 
 CONCERNING AN OMELET 71 
 
 us in for the night," he said. "Who is Ma 
 Billings?" 
 
 "Marie LaBelle she used to be; worked up 
 on the flyin' rings until she got too hefty," his 
 companion explained. "Now she takes care 
 of the wardrobes and sort of looks out that the 
 Human Doll don't get lost in the shuffle; the 
 midget, you know. Now peel, and I'll give 
 you a rub-down with some liniment." 
 
 Jim tried to protest, but the husky indi- 
 vidual only grinned the broader. 
 
 "You may be some boy when it comes to 
 bronco-bustin', but I'm the Strong Man in the 
 side-show, and you haven't a chance." 
 
 Meekly Jim submitted to his compan- 
 ion's kindly ministrations, and then dressing 
 quickly, made his way out into the glare of the 
 early morning sun. 
 
 The big top was down, and poles and ani- 
 mal cages were being loaded on long trucks as 
 he emerged. An appetizing odor of fried 
 pork floated upon the air from the direction 
 of the cook-tent, and people seemed to be rush- 
 ing all over the lot in wildest confusion, but 
 Jim caught a glimpse of a bit of pink-and-
 
 72 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 white check through the melee, and headed 
 for it. 
 
 Lou was sitting on the grass in cordial con- 
 fab with a melancholy-looking, lantern- jawed 
 man, but at his approach she jumped up pre- 
 cipitately and ran to him. 
 
 "Oh, Jim, you feelin' all right?" There 
 was a little tremble in her voice. "I knew it 
 was you the minute you rode past an' picked 
 up that handkerchief Mr. Perkins give you 
 yesterday, an' when you pitched off that horse 
 I thought you was dead. You hadn't no call 
 to take any chance like that with your back 
 hurt an' that long tramp an' all; but it was 
 splendid." 
 
 She paused, breathless, and he patted her 
 shoulder. Somehow she didn't look so down- 
 right homely this morning, or else he was 
 growing used to her little, turned-up nose. 
 Her tow-colored hair was looser about her 
 face, and where the sun struck a strand of it,, 
 it shone like spun gold. 
 
 "I'm fine," he assured her. "But who was 
 that man you were talking to just now?" 
 
 "Him? Oh, that was the clown," Lou re-
 
 CONCERNING AN OMELET 73 
 
 plied. "He says the old man is just crazy 
 'bout your ridin', an' if you'll stay along with 
 the show he can teach me to stand still for the 
 knife- thrower; the last girl got scared, an' 
 quit just because she got a little scratch on the 
 neck. The clown says I got the nerve for it, 
 an' I guess I have, only they ain't goin' to- 
 wards New York." 
 
 She added the last almost reluctantly, and 
 Jim shuddered. The knife-thrower! What 
 wouldn't the little dare-devil be willing to 
 try next? 
 
 "I guess you have got the nerve," he ad- 
 mitted grimly. "But we're going to be in 
 New York by Saturday night, remember. As 
 soon as I get my quarter from the stout gentle- 
 man over there with the striped vest, we'll be 
 on our way." 
 
 But it was nearly an hour before they took 
 to the road again. The boss insisted on start- 
 ing them off with a hearty breakfast, and there 
 were good-bys to be said to the rough, kindly 
 folk who had taken them in as friends. Ex- 
 cept for the litter of hand-bills and peanut- 
 shells, the last vestiges of the circus were
 
 74 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 being removed from the lot as they finally de- 
 parted, and what had been to Lou a wondrous, 
 glittering pageant had become but a memory. 
 
 "I dunno but I'd as lief join a circus," she 
 observed, meditatively, after they had traveled 
 a mile or more. "Maybe I could learn in New 
 York how to do some of them tricks. I could 
 git the hang of that business up on them 
 swings in no time, only I don't like the way 
 that girl dressed " 
 
 "Nonsense!" Jim snapped, and wondered at 
 his own indignation. "We'll find something 
 suitable for you to do, or you can go to 
 school " 
 
 "School!" she interrupted him in her turn. 
 "I I'd like to learn things an' be like other 
 folks, but I ain't I mean I'm not goin' to 
 any institootion." 
 
 He glanced at her curiously. This was the 
 first time she had made any conscious effort 
 to correct herself, the first evidence she had 
 given that she had noted the difference be- 
 tween his speech and hers. 
 
 "I didn't mean an institution, but a real 
 school, Lou," he explained gently. "One
 
 CONCERNING AN OMELET 75 
 
 where you'll have no uniform to wear, and no 
 work to do except to learn." 
 
 "I quit learnin' when I was twelve." There 
 was an unconscious^ote of wistfulness in her 
 tones. "I kin read an' do a little figgerin', 
 but I don't know much of anythin' else. I 
 couldn't go to school an' begin again where I 
 left off, Jim; I'd be sort of ashamed. Oh, 
 look at that big wagon drivin' out of that 
 gate! Maybe we'll git a lift." 
 
 She had turned at the creak of wheels, and 
 now, as the cart loaded with crates and 
 pulled by two lean, sorry-looking horses 
 passed, she gazed expectantly at the driver. 
 He was as lean as his team, with a sharp nose 
 and a tuft of gray hair sticking out from his 
 chin, and his close-set eyes straight ahead of 
 him, as though he were determined not to see 
 to the two wayfarers. 
 
 "He looks kinder mean, don't he?" Lou re- 
 marked. Then impusively she ran after the 
 wagon : "Say, mister, will you give us a lift?" 
 
 The old man pulled in his horses and re- 
 garded her sourly. 
 
 "What'll you pay?" he demanded.
 
 76 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "What's in them crates," she parried. 
 
 "Eggs." The response was laconic. "What 
 you gittin' at, sis?" 
 
 "Who unloads them when you git to where 
 you're goin'?" Lou persisted. 
 
 "At the Riverburgh dock? I do, unless I'm 
 late, an' then I have to give a couple o' them 
 loafers around there a quarter apiece to help. 
 I'm late to-day, an' if you ain't got any money 
 to ride Giddap!" 
 
 But Lou halted him determinedly. 
 
 "If you'll give me and Jim I mean my 
 brother a ride, he'll unload the crates for 
 you for nothin' when we git there. You'll 
 be savin' fifty cents, and the ride won't cost 
 you nothin'." 
 
 "Well" the old man considered for a 
 moment "I'll do it, if it's only to spite them 
 fellers that's allus hangin' 'round the docks. 
 Reg'lar robbers, they be. Quarter apiece, an' 
 chicken-feed gone up the way't is. Git in." 
 
 Jim had overtaken the wagon in time to 
 hear the end of the brief conversation, and he 
 wasted no further time in parley, but hoisted
 
 CONCERNING AN OMELET 77 
 
 Lou up over the wheel and climbed in beside 
 her. 
 
 As the reluctant horses started off once 
 more the driver turned to him : 
 
 "Hope you're a hustler, young man; got to 
 git them eggs off the wagon in a jiffy when 
 we git to Riverburgh, in time to ketch the 
 boat. Don't you try no scuttlin' off on me 
 after I give you the ride; Riverburgh's a 
 reg'lar city, an' they's a policeman on the 
 docks." 
 
 "I'll keep the bargain my sister made for 
 ne," Jim answered shortly. He had observed 
 the poultry-farm from which the old man had 
 started, with its miserable little hovel of a 
 house and immense spread of chicken-runs, 
 and drawn his own conclusions as to the char- 
 acter of its owner. "You needn't be afraid I'll 
 shirk." 
 
 "Well," grumbled the other, "I don't hold 
 with pickin' up tramps in the road, but I'm 
 sick of handin' out good money to them 
 loafers at the dock to unload, an' I ain't got a 
 hired man to take along no more; they're allus 
 lazy, good-for-nothin' fellers that eat more 'n
 
 7 8 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 they work out, let alone their wages goin' sky- 
 hootin'!" 
 
 "But you must be making a handsome 
 profit, with the price of eggs going up, too, all 
 the time," Jim remarked. 
 
 The old man gave him a sly glance. 
 
 "That's how you look at it," he replied. 
 "They oughter go up twice the price they be. 
 My wife's doin' the hired man's work now, 
 an' she's allus pesterin' me to git an incubator, 
 but them things cost a powerful sight of 
 money, an' I don't hold with new-fangled no- 
 tions ; too much resk to them. You can allus 
 sell hens when they git too old to set or lay, 
 but what' re you going to do with a w r o re-out 
 incubator?" 
 
 He cackled shrilly at his own witticism and 
 then grew morose again. "The way things is, 
 there ain't no profit skeercely in nothin'." 
 
 They jogged along drowsily through the 
 slumberous heat, while the old man continued 
 his harangue against the cost of everything 
 except his own commodity, and the underfed 
 horses strained to drag their burden over the 
 hilly road. The mountains had been left be-
 
 CONCERNING AN OMELET 79 
 
 hind, and all over the rolling hillsides about 
 them on either hand the vineyards stretched 
 in undulating lines, each heavy with the load 
 of purpling grapes. 
 
 Mile after mile passed slowly beneath the 
 creaking wheels of the wagon; noon came, 
 and still Riverburgh remained tantalizingly 
 ahead. At last, on the rise of a hill, the old 
 man pulled up and pointed with his whip to 
 the spreading sweep of brick buildings front- 
 ing on the river's edge below. 
 
 "There's the town," he announced, adding, 
 with a touch of regret: "We're ahead of 
 time, after all, an' I could have unloaded by 
 myself. Well, it don't matter noways except 
 for the extra drag on the horses. Giddap!" 
 
 "There's there's an ottermobile comin' up 
 behind," Lou ventured. "They been tootin* 
 at you for some time, mister." 
 
 "Let 'em," the old man cackled shrilly once 
 more. "I've been drivin' on these roads afore 
 them things was heard of, an' I don't calc'hte 
 to turn out for J em." 
 
 The warning of the siren sounded again dis- 
 turbingly close, and the rush of the oncoming
 
 80 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 car could be plainly heard. Jim glanced at 
 the old man, and, noting the stubborn set of 
 his jaw, said nothing; but Lou spoke again, 
 and her voice held no note of alarm, but 
 rather indignation at the obvious lack of fair 
 play. 
 
 "But they got a right; you're on their side 
 of the road," she exclaimed. "If you'd give 
 them their half, mister, they could pass easy." 
 
 "Don't calc-late to let 'em," he responded 
 obstinately. "Ain't goin' to take their dust if 
 I kin help it." 
 
 Deliberately he tugged on the left reins and 
 headed the team straight across the road. Lou 
 gave a quick glance over the side of the 
 wagon and behind, and then gripped Jim's 
 arm. He turned and caught one glimpse of 
 her set face, and then with a roar and a grind- 
 ing crash they both felt themselves lifted into 
 the air and landed in some golden, slimy fluid 
 in the ditch. 
 
 "Lou, are you hurt?" Jim tried to wipe the 
 clinging stuff from his eyes and ears with his 
 sleeve. "Where are you?" 
 
 The rapidly diminishing clatter of horses'-
 
 hoofs down the hill, and the old man's vigor- 
 ously roared recriminations assured him of 
 the safety of the rest of the entourage even 
 before Lou replied. 
 
 "Not hurt a mite, but I'm laughinM" she 
 exclaimed breathlessly. "Oh, Jim, you you 
 should have seen it. That ottermobile hit 
 square in the middle of the wagon, and there 
 ain't isn't a single egg " 
 
 "Here, you!" the old man, dripping from 
 head to foot with the golden slime, rushed up 
 and tugged excitedly at Jim's arm. "Come 
 on an' help me to ketch them horses ! What'd 
 I bring you along for? Let the girl be, I 
 don't ker if her neck's broke! I got to lodge 
 a complaint against them rascals, an' have 'em 
 stopped! You're my witnesses that they run 
 into me, an' I'll make 'em pay a pretty 
 
 penny 
 
 "I care whether my sister's neck is broken 
 or not!" Jim retorted grimly. "Go after your 
 own horses. I engaged to unload eggs, and it 
 looks as if the job was finished. Lou, are you 
 sure you're all right?"
 
 82 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 The old man danced up and down in the 
 road, spattering flecks of egg about him. 
 
 "We'll see about that," he shrilled. "You 
 come along with me! You're my wit- 
 nesses " 
 
 "We'll be your witnesses that you were on 
 the wrong side of the road, and knew it," 
 Jim helped Lou to her feet. "They warned 
 you, and you wouldn't turn out." 
 
 With an outburst of inarticulate rage the 
 old man dashed off down the road, and Lou, 
 helpless with laughter, clung to Jim's slippery 
 sleeve. 
 
 "Don't mind him," she gasped. "Old skin- 
 flint! Oh, Jim, you 1-look like an omelet."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE RED NOTE- BOOK 
 
 TT^OR a moment Jim laughed with her; then 
 A the seriousness of their situation was 
 borne in upon him, and his face sobered. 
 
 "It's the kind of an omelet that won't come 
 off in a hurry, I'm afraid," he said. "How 
 on earth are we going to walk into River- 
 burgh like this?" 
 
 It was the first time that he had appealed 
 to her, and Lou's laughter ceased also, but her 
 cheerful confidence did not fail her. 
 
 "We gotter find some place where we can 
 git cleaned up, that's all," she replied prac- 
 tically. "Most anybody would let you do 
 that, I guess, if you told them what happened, 
 an' if you can't ask why, I kin. Anybody 
 'cept a mean old thing like that! I s'pose I 
 ought to be sorry that his wagon's broke an' 
 his eggs are all over us instead of where they 
 
 83
 
 84 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 was goin', but I'm not a mite. Long's he 
 wasn't hurt, I'm kinder glad." 
 
 "Still, those people in the car ought to have 
 stopped to see the extent of the damage they 
 had done, even if they did have the right-of- 
 way," Jim observed. "The old fellow had 
 his grievance, but he got my goat when he said 
 he didn't care if your neck was broken or 
 not, and I wouldn't have helped him if I 
 could." 
 
 "'Goat'?" Lou repeated. 
 
 Jim had no opportunity to explain, for at 
 that moment a woman in a faded gingham 
 gown toiled hurriedly over the brow of the 
 hill, and, on seeing them, stopped, with one 
 hand at her breast. 
 
 "Oh!" she gasped. "There's wasn't anyone 
 hurt, was there? I saw the accident from my 
 porch, and I came just as quick as I could." 
 
 Jim explained, and the woman listened, 
 wide-eyed. 
 
 "You both come straight along with me," 
 she invited when he had finished. "I'll lend 
 you some overalls, and you and the little girl 
 can just sit around while your clothes dry."
 
 THE RED NOTE-BOOK 85 
 
 She led the way back to a tiny but very neat 
 cottage, with flowers blooming in the door- 
 yard and a well-tended truck-garden in the 
 rear. Broad hay-fields stretched on either 
 side, but only two little boys were visible, toss- 
 ing the hay awkwardly with pitchforks almost 
 bigger than they were themselves. 
 
 The woman left them standing for a minute 
 on the back porch, and then came out to them, 
 bearing a cake of soap, a towel, and a pair of 
 overalls and shirt, which, although immacu- 
 lately clean, bore many patches and darns, 
 and were deeply creased, as though they had 
 been laid away a long time. 
 
 "Take these down to the barn." She handed 
 them to Jim. "You'll find a spigot there, and 
 cold water's best for egg-stains. I left some 
 rags in the empty box-stall that you can use 
 to clean your shoes, and then, if you'll give me 
 your clothes that you've got on now, I'll soak 
 them and get them out while the sun's high; 
 corduroy takes a long time to dry." 
 
 When Jim had expressed his gratitude and 
 departed for the barn, the woman led Lou 
 into the kitchen, and, providing her also with
 
 86 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 clean garments, she dragged a wash-tub out 
 on the porch. 
 
 "I if you'll let me, I'd like to wash my 
 own things and Jim's." Lou appeared shyly 
 in the door in a gown several sizes too large 
 for her. "He'd like it, too, I think, and he 
 can help with the hayin' till the things git 
 dried out enough, so's we kin go on." 
 
 "Oh, would he?" the woman asked quickly. 
 "I'd pay him well if he's looking for work; 
 I can't get any hands, though I've tried, and 
 the hay is rotting for want of being turned. I 
 didn't think I'd seen you two around here 
 before, but I've known old Mr. Weeble 
 always." 
 
 "You mean that that with the egg- 
 wagon? He was givin' us a lift into River- 
 burgh; we're just traveling through," Lou 
 added shortly. 
 
 "Did he pick you up back near his place?" 
 At Lou's nod the woman exclaimed : "Then 
 you two haven't had a bite of dinner! You 
 put your things to soak and I'll go right in 
 the house and get you up a little something; 
 it's past two."
 
 THE RED NOTE-BOOK 87 
 
 Lou started to protest, but the woman dis- 
 appeared into the kitchen, and Jim appeared 
 from the barn. He was attired in a shirt 
 which strained at his broad shoulders, and 
 overalls which barely reached his shoe-tops. 
 
 The girl noticed something else also as he 
 turned for a moment to look toward the field 
 where the little boys were so valiantly at 
 work; a red-leather note-book, which she had 
 never known that he carried, bulged now 
 from the all too small overall-pocket. 
 
 "You can bet I'll pitch hay for her till sun- 
 down," he declared, when Lou had explained 
 the situation to him. He dropped beside the 
 tub the bundle of egg-soaked clothing which 
 he carried, and added: "It is mighty good of 
 her to do all this for us, isn't it? I tell you, 
 Lou, the credit side of the list is going up 
 even if it did have a bit of a jolt this morning, 
 and you're the biggest item on it." 
 
 This speech was wholly unintelligible to 
 the girl, but she bent over the tub without 
 reply, and Jim went on hurriedly, aware that 
 he had made a slip of some sort.
 
 88 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "I wonder where all the men of the family 
 are? She can't get any hands 
 
 "There are all the men of the family." The 
 woman had reappeared in time to catch his 
 last remark, and she pointed out toward the 
 two small toilers with a faint smile. "There 
 was another, their father my son but he 
 died; so we're doin' the best we can by our- 
 selves. But there's a little bite ready for you 
 on the end of the kitchen-table, and it's get- 
 ting cold." 
 
 The food tasted good, and the little red 
 cloth beneath the dishes was clean, but the 
 signs of carefully concealed poverty were 
 everywhere visible to Jim's eyes, and he sus- 
 pected another reason for the lack of farm- 
 hands than scarcity of labor. He hurried 
 through his meal, and went at once to the 
 hay-field, while Lou, after insisting on clear- 
 ing the dishes away, went back to the wash- 
 tub, and their hostess returned to her own be- 
 lated ironing. 
 
 Upon the girl's usually serene brow there 
 was a frown of perplexity as she worked, and 
 her thoughts were far afield, for in that back-
 
 THE RED NOTE-BOOK 89 
 
 ward glance which she had given from the 
 egg-wagon to the approaching car just before 
 the crash came she had recognized in its occu- 
 pants the quartet who sat in front of her at 
 the circus the previous evening. The ladies 
 were closely swathed in their veils, but she re- 
 membered the distinctive plaids of their silk 
 coats, and the stout gentleman who sat be- 
 tween them in the tonneau, with goggles and 
 hat snatched off in the excitement of the im- 
 pending smash-up, was unmistakably the one 
 who had called out "Good work!" w r hen Jim 
 was performing on the horse. 
 
 The other gentleman who had made up the 
 quartet was the one who drove the car, and 
 her quick glance showed her that he was even 
 then trying to avoid the crash. 
 
 The details had been photographed upon 
 her brain with instantaneous clarity, but it 
 was not with these that her thoughts were 
 busied; the remark which the younger lady 
 had made at the circus just before Jim rode 
 toward the exit-flap of the curtain had re- 
 turned and could not be banished from her 
 mind:
 
 90 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "Didn't he look like Jimmie Abbott?" 
 
 Her companion had told the girl that his 
 name was Botts, but beyond that, and the fact 
 that he was on the way to New York, he had 
 vouchsafed no further information about 
 himself, nor had Lou asked. She could not 
 understand why his journey was hedged about 
 with so many silly rules, nor why he chose to 
 obey them; that was his affair, and he was 
 just a part of this wonderful adventure which 
 had started with her departure from the Hess 
 farm. 
 
 Yet away down in her heart was a little 
 hurt feeling for which she could not have 
 assigned a cause even to herself. Of course 
 she trusted him, and he would not have lied 
 to her, but could there really be another 
 "Jim" in the world who looked quite like him, 
 and whose name was so nearly the same? 
 
 She had sensed instinctively, and the more 
 clearly perhaps because of her lack of worldly 
 experience, that he was different, not only i 
 from herself, but from all whom they had 
 encountered upon their journey, yet could he
 
 THE RED NOTE-BOOK 91 
 
 really be that grand young lady's "Jimmie," 
 after all? 
 
 As she stepped aside to lift the basket into 
 which the sodden garments had fallen from 
 the wringer, her foot chanced to crunch upon 
 something that yielded with a crisp rustle, 
 and she glanced down. It was the little red 
 note-book which she had seen in Jim's overall- 
 pocket when he came from the barn; it must 
 have fallen out as he crossed the porch to go 
 to the hay-field. 
 
 It had opened, and the front cover was 
 pressed back, with the stamp of her heel, 
 showing plainly upon the first page, and as 
 she stooped slowly and picked it up Lou 
 could not help reading the three words which 
 were written across it in a bold, characteristic 
 hand: 
 
 JAMES TARRISFORD ABBOTT 
 
 There was something else, an address, no 
 doubt, written below, but Lou closed the book 
 quickly and dropped it upon a near-by bench, 
 as though it burned her fingers. For a mo-
 
 92 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 ment she stood very still with her eyes closed 
 and her little water-shriveled hands tightly in- 
 terlocked, and in that instant of time the 
 happy, careless co-adventurer of the last two 
 marvelous days vanished, and in his place 
 there appeared a stranger, a man of the world, 
 in which that young lady of the motor-car 
 moved. 
 
 For the first time in Lou's life a panic 
 seized her, a desperate longing to run away. 
 She opened her eyes and looked across the 
 hay-fields to where that tall, stalwart figure 
 worked beside the two smaller ones. Even 
 from that distance he looked different, some- 
 how; he wasn't the same Jim. 
 
 Slowly, with a mist before her eyes she 
 picked up the heavy basket, and, descending 
 the steps of the porch, spread the garments 
 upon the bleaching grass to dry. The glitter- 
 ing glories of the circus had turned all at 
 once to a black shadow in her memory, and 
 she wished fervently that she had never seen 
 it nor those rich people who had come to 
 make a mock of it, but had stayed to applaud 
 Jim.
 
 THE RED NOTE-BOOK 93 
 
 But why shouldn't they, even if they hadn't 
 recognized him? He belonged to their world, 
 not hers. Then a new, inexpressibly forlorn 
 thought came to her; what was her world, 
 anyway? She didn't belong anywhere; there 
 was no place for her unless she made one for 
 herself, some time. 
 
 With that, in spite of this strange, new 
 weariness which dragged at her heart, Lou's 
 indomitable spirit reasserted itself, and her 
 small teeth clamped together. She would 
 make herself a place somewhere, somehow. 
 
 Returning to the house, she took the iron- 
 ing from her tired hostess's hands, and worked 
 steadily until at sundown the high treble of 
 childish voices came to her ears, and Jim's 
 merry, laughing tones in reply sent a quick 
 stab through her, but she put down the iron 
 and went determinedly out on the porch. 
 
 The two little boys came shyly on up the 
 steps, but Jim had paused to feel of his coat, 
 as it lay on the grass, and looked ruefully at 
 her. 
 
 "It's wet still, I'm afraid," she remarked 
 composedly, as she picked up the red note-
 
 94 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 book and held it out to him. "Is this yourn? 
 It looks as though it must have dropped out of 
 your pocket an' somebody stepped on it." 
 
 If the girl noted the swift change which 
 came over his face she gave no sign as he 
 came forward and took the book from her 
 hands. 
 
 "Yes, it's mine." He opened and closed it 
 again, and then looked up uncertainly into her 
 face as she stood on the steps above him, but 
 Lou was gazing in seeming serenity out over 
 the fields, which were still shimmering in the 
 last rays of the sun. "I I'll tell you about 
 this some time, Lou. It's funny." 
 
 "What's funny?" she asked, with a little 
 start, as though he had interrupted some train 
 of thought of her own, far removed from 
 hateful little red books. 
 
 "If you think it's goin' to be funny to travel 
 in wet clothes to-night, just wait till you git 
 started." 
 
 But they did not start upon their journey 
 again that night, after all. Their kindly 
 hostess insisted upon their remaining until 
 the morning, at least, and when the supper
 
 THE RED NOTE-BOOK 95 
 
 dishes were cleared away Lou wandered off 
 by herself down the little lane which led to 
 the pasture. 
 
 There would be three days more, and then 
 their journey's end. Upon one thing she had 
 decided: there would be no school for her! 
 She was going to work as quickly as she could 
 find something to do. Mr. James Abbott 
 must be paid back for the little pink-checked 
 frock and the hat with the green bow, and 
 then she would drop from his sight. Surely 
 in that great city, with its hundreds and hun- 
 dreds of people, she would be able to dis- 
 appear. 
 
 Reaching the pasture, she stood at the gate 
 with her arms resting upon the topmost rail, 
 and was so deep in reflection that she did not 
 hear a step behind her until a hand touched 
 her shoulder, and Jim's voice asked quietly: 
 
 "What are you doing off here by yourself, 
 Lou? Mrs. Bemis didn't know what had be- 
 come of you, and I've been looking every- 
 where." 
 
 "I dunno," Lou answered truthfully 
 enough. "I been thinkin' 'bout the insti-
 
 96 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 tootion where I come from; it was seem' them 
 little boys put me in mind of it, I reckon. I 
 was kinder wonderin' what it would be like 
 to really belong to anybody." 
 
 There was neither pathos nor self-pity in 
 her tone, but rather a cold, dispassionate 
 speculation that froze the words of awkward 
 sympathy which rose to his lips, and he re- 
 mained silent. 
 
 "I did once, you know," she continued, "be- 
 long to some body, I mean. I had on a 
 white dress all trimmed with lace when they 
 found me in the station at the junction an' took 
 me up to the institootion ; it was the only 
 white dress I ever had." 
 
 "Where was this institution, Lou?" Jim 
 asked. "You've never told me, you know." 
 
 Lou shrugged. 
 
 "Oh, it was 'way up at a place called May- 
 field's Corners; I was most three hours on the 
 train before I got to the station nearest Hess's 
 farm." 
 
 A vicious desire came over her to shock and 
 repulse that inexplicable thing in him which 
 set him apart from her and made him one
 
 THE RED NOTE-BOOK 97 
 
 with the world in which those others moved; 
 that stout gentleman and the young lady who 
 had called him Jimmie. She added de- 
 liberately: 
 
 "I told you what I did there at the in- 
 stitootion, I mean: scrubbed an' cooked an' 
 washed an' tended babies an' wore a uniform, 
 just like any other norphin, I guess. Slep' in 
 the garret with the rats runnin' over the floor, 
 an' got up in the mornin' to the same old 
 work. It warn't a State institootion, you see; 
 just a kind of a charity one, run by the deacons 
 of the church; I ain't got much use for 
 charity." 
 
 "I shouldn't think you would have," he ex- 
 claimed. "But it's all behind you now, Lou. 
 We made fourteen miles to-day from High- 
 vale or will have when we walk down the 
 hill to Riverburgh to-morrow, and it is only 
 sixty miles further to New York." 
 
 "That's good," Lou said, but without en- 
 thusiasm. "Do we start at sun-up?" 
 
 "I thought I'd like to work for Mrs. Bemis 
 for a couple of hours first and get the hay 
 turned in that south field," Jim answered.
 
 98 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "She's been so good to us, and she'll need 
 the stuff this winter for those two old plugs 
 out there." 
 
 He pointed out into the pasture, where two 
 horses made mere blotches of deeper shadow 
 beneath a tree. 
 
 Lou laughed suddenly, softly, but it seemed 
 to him that the rippling, liquid note had 
 vanished. 
 
 "What's funny?" he asked. 
 
 "Oh, nothin'. I was just thinkin' of you 
 last night in that circus. You rode so so 
 wonderfully. I wasn't laughin' at that, but it 
 just come to me how funny it would have been 
 if any of your friends was to have seen you!" 
 
 Jim glanced at her sharply, but in the star- 
 light her face seemed merely amused as at a 
 whimsical thought. 
 
 "Why would it have been funny?" he in- 
 sisted. "Of course I never rode in a real 
 circus before, and I guess I was pretty rotten, 
 but why would my friends have laughed?" 
 
 "I dunno." Lou dropped her arms from 
 the fence- rail and turned away. "Let's go 
 back to the house. I I'm pretty tired,"
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 REVELATIONS 
 
 THE next morning was a trying one for 
 them both. Jim felt dully that some- 
 thing was the matter, but the girl's manner 
 baffled him, and he could not make up his 
 mind as to whether she had glanced in the 
 note-book or not. It did not seem like her to 
 do so deliberately, but if she had he could 
 only make things worse by broaching the sub- 
 ject, since he was not at the moment in a posi- 
 tion to explain. 
 
 As for Lou, she was trying her best to ap- 
 pear her old self with him, but dissimulation 
 was an art in which she was as yet unversed, 
 and her whole nature rebelled against play- 
 ing a part. Only her pride kept her from 
 betraying her disappointment in him and run- 
 ning away. She told herself fiercely that he 
 
 99
 
 IOO 
 
 didn't care what she thought of him; they 
 were only partners met by chance on the road, 
 and perhaps never to see each other again 
 after the city was reached. 
 
 If he had lied to her about his name that 
 was his own business, and she would not ad- 
 mit even to herself that this deception was 
 not the only reason for the strange, hurt feel- 
 ing about her heart. 
 
 She rose at dawn, and, creeping down from 
 the clean little room which Mrs. Bemis had 
 given her, she had the stove going and break- 
 fast on the table by the time the little family 
 was awake, and Jim appeared from the barn, 
 where he had slept in the loft. 
 
 While he worked in the field during the 
 early morning hours, she finished the ironing, 
 and by ten o'clock they were ready once more 
 to start upon their way. 
 
 Mrs. Bemis insisted upon paying them both 
 for their work, but it was only out of con- 
 sideration for her pride that Jim would ac- 
 cept fifty cents of the two dollars she offered 
 him. 
 
 "I only work for a quarter a time," he told
 
 REVELATIONS 101 
 
 her gravely. "One for yesterday and one for 
 this morning; my sister can tell you that. I 
 I would like to write to you if I may when 
 we reach home, Mrs. Bemis. Will you tell 
 me what address will find you? You see, I 
 want to thank you properly for all your kind- 
 ness to us, and I don't know whether this is 
 the township of Riverburgh or not." 
 
 "It's the Stilton post-office," the little 
 woman stammered. "Of course, I'd like to 
 hear from both of you, but you mustn't thank 
 me ! I don't know what I should have done 
 without your help with the hay! And your 
 sister, too; I do hope you both find work 
 where you're going." 
 
 To Lou's amazement Jim produced the lit- 
 tle red note-book and wrote the address care- 
 fully in it, adding what appeared to be some 
 figures at one side. Then he thanked their 
 good Samaritan and they took their leave. 
 
 "That makes a dollar and ten cents!" he re- 
 marked confidentially as he and Lou went 
 down the hill road together toward the bus- 
 tling little city nestled at the river's edge. 
 "Quite a fortune, isn't it?"
 
 102 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "She gave me a quarter for helping with 
 the ironing, too, so that's thirty-five that I've 
 got." Lou exhibited a hard knot tied in the 
 corner of her handkerchief. "I couldn't get 
 all of the egg out of my hat, but it's good 
 enough. Where do we go from Riverburgh?" 
 
 Jim gave a groan of mock despair. 
 
 "That's the dev I mean, the deuce of it!" 
 he exclaimed. "We've got to cross the river 
 there someway, and go on down on the other 
 side. We can't keep on this, or we will run 
 into New Jersey and and I mustn't leave the 
 State." 
 
 He blurted the last out in a 'dogged, uncom- 
 fortable way, but Lou did not appear to notice 
 his change of tone. 
 
 "Well, there look to be plenty of boats goin' 
 back an' forth," she observed placidly, "I 
 guess we can get over." 
 
 "But you don't understand. I I can't pay 
 our way over; that's another of the things I 
 mustn't do." Jim flushed hotly. 
 
 "I wish I could tell you all about it." 
 
 "It don't make any difference." Lou kept 
 her eyes fixed straight ahead of her. "There
 
 REVELATIONS 103 
 
 ought to be some way for you to work your 
 way across." 
 
 The road dipped sharply, and became all 
 at once a pleasant, tree-lined street with pretty 
 suburban cottages on either hand. To the 
 east and north hung the smoke cloud of count- 
 less factories, but their way led them through 
 the modest residential quarter. The street 
 presently turned into a paved one, and trolley 
 lines appeared; then brick buildings and 
 shops, and before they knew it they were in 
 the busy, crowded business thoroughfare. 
 
 Lou would have paused, gaping and won- 
 dering if New York could be anything like 
 this, but Jim hurried her down the steep, 
 cobbled way which led to the ferry. Once 
 there, he took her to a seat in the waiting- 
 room. 
 
 "Sit here and wait for me," he directed. 
 "I'm going to run back up to the shops and 
 get some provisions for us to carry along, and 
 then I'll arrange about getting across. I 
 shan't be long." 
 
 When he came down the hill again some 
 twenty minutes later laden with packages, he
 
 104 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 found Lou waiting for him at the door of the 
 ferry-house, with a little exultant smile about 
 her lips. 
 
 "Come on," she commanded shortly. "I've 
 fixed it for us to get over, but we gotta hurry. 
 The boat's a'most ready to start." 
 
 "How in the world " he began, but 
 
 without deigning to explain she led him to the 
 gate. It was only after he had perforce pre- 
 ceded her that he saw her hand two tickets to 
 the officials at the turnstile. 
 
 "Lou!" he exclaimed reproachfully. 
 
 "Well, it's all right, isn't it?" she de- 
 manded. "You kin ride if anybody asks you, 
 can't you? I'm invitin' you to ride on this 
 boat with me, Mr. Botts!" 
 
 In spite of her assumed gaiety, however, 
 the trip across the river was a silent one, and 
 when the landing was reached and they hur- 
 ried out of the settlement to the open coun- 
 try once more, both were acutely aware that 
 the intangible rift was widening. It was as 
 though they walked on opposite sides of the 
 road, and neither could bridge the distance 
 between.
 
 REVELATIONS 105 
 
 Both doggedly immersed in their own re- 
 flections, they walked on rapidly in spite of 
 the heat and with no thought of time or dis- 
 tance until Jim realized that his companion 
 was lagging, and glanced up to see that the 
 sun had started well upon the western trail. 
 
 "By Jove I You must be almost starved I" 
 he cried. "I never thought why didn't you 
 wake me out of this trance I seem to have 
 been in, and tell me it was long pas f :ime for 
 chow? We must have walked miles 1" 
 
 "I didn't think, either." Lou glanced about 
 her wearily. "I don't see any house, but I 
 kinder think I hear a little brook somewhere, 
 don't you? Let's find it, an' then hurry on; 
 if we've got to do sixty miles by the day after 
 to-morrow we got to be movin' right steady." 
 
 They found the little brook, and ate of their 
 supplies and drank heartily, for they were 
 buth famished by the long walk, but all the 
 carefree joyousness seemed to have gone out 
 of the adventure, and when Lou discovered 
 that the knot in the corner of her handker- 
 chief had become untied and the remainder
 
 io6 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 of her capital was gone, it appeared to be the 
 last cloud needed to immerse her in gloom. 
 
 Her feet were blistered and every muscle 
 ached with fatigue, but she shook her head 
 when Jim asked if she were too tired to go 
 on, and limped determinedly out into the road 
 after him. She had accepted his companion- 
 ship to New York, and she would drop in her 
 tracks before she would be a drag on him and 
 prevent his reaching there in the time which 
 was so mysteriously important to him. 
 
 A mile farther on, however, an empty 
 motor van picked them up, and seated at the 
 back with her feet hanging over, Lou 
 promptly fell asleep, her head sagging un- 
 consciously against Jim's shoulder. He did 
 not touch her, but moved so that her head 
 should fall into a more comfortable position, 
 and looked down with new tenderness at the 
 tow-colored hair. The ridiculous, outstand- 
 ing braid was gone, and instead, a soft knot 
 appeared low on the slender, sun-burned neck, 
 with tiny tendrils of curls escaping from it. 
 
 What a game little sport she had proved 
 herself to be I He wondered how many girls
 
 REVELATIONS 107 
 
 of his own set would have had the courage 
 and endurance for such a test. Then to his 
 own amazement he found himself thinking of 
 them with a certain sense of disparagement, 
 almost contempt. They would not have had 
 the moral courage, let alone physical endur- 
 ance. 
 
 Of course, this sort of vagabondage would 
 be outrageous and utterly impossible from a 
 conventional standpoint, but with Lou it had 
 been a mere venture into Arcady, as innocent 
 as the wanderings of two children. And 
 Saturday it must end! 
 
 At the outskirts of Parksville he called to 
 the good-natured truckman who sat behind 
 the wheel, and the latter obligingly put on the 
 brakes. 
 
 "My sister and I don't want to go right into 
 the town, so we'll get out here if you don't 
 mind," Jim said. "This lift has been a god- 
 send, and I can't thank you, but I've got the 
 name of the company you're working for in 
 New York and I'll drop around some night 
 when I'm flush and you're knocking off, and
 
 io8 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 we'll see if the old burg is as dry as it's sup- 
 posed to be." 
 
 "You're on!" The driver grinned. "Got 
 a job waitin' for yer? We need some 
 helpers." 
 
 "I've got a job." Jim thought of that "job" 
 in the mahogany-lined suite of offices which 
 bore his name on the door, but he did not 
 smile. "I'll look you up soon. Come on, 
 Lou ; here's where we change cars." 
 
 She rubbed her eyes and gazed about her 
 bewilderedly in the gathering darkness as he 
 lifted her to the ground and the truck rumbled 
 off. 
 
 "Where where are we now?" she asked 
 sleepily. 
 
 "Just outside Parksville; see those lights 
 over there?" he replied. "We must have 
 walked more than ten miles before that motor 
 van came along, so it isn't any wonder that 
 you were tired, even if you wouldn't admit it- 
 Just think, nineteen miles to-day!" 
 
 He was wondering, even as he spoke, wHat 
 they were to do for the night. He had not 
 enough money to secure even the humblest of
 
 REVELATIONS 109 
 
 lodgings for her, and he knew that if they 
 ventured as vagrants into the town they would 
 be in danger of apprehension by the author- 
 ities. But Lou solved the question quite 
 simply. 
 
 "Isn't that big thing stickln' up In that field 
 a haystack? I I'd like a piece of that sponge 
 cake that's left from what we ate at noon, 
 and then crawl in there an' sleep straight 
 through till to-morrow," she declared. "Did 
 you want to go on any further to-night?" 
 
 "Heavens, no, I was just wondering I 
 don't see why it couldn't be done," he replied 
 somewhat haltingly. "There isn't any house 
 near, and I don't think anything will hurt 
 you." 
 
 The latter probability seemed of no mo- 
 ment to Lou. She fell asleep again with her 
 sponge cake half eaten, and he picked her up 
 and nestled her in the hay as though she were 
 in very truth a child. Then, as on the first 
 night at the deserted mill near Hudsondale, 
 he sat down at the foot of the haystack, on 
 guard. 
 
 It was well for them, however, that the hay-
 
 i io ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 ing was done in that particular field, and no 
 farmer appeared from the big white house 
 just over the hill, for in spite of his most 
 valiant efforts Jim, too, slumbered, and it was 
 broad day when he awoke. 
 
 Lou had vanished from the haystack, but he 
 found her at a little spring in a strip of 
 woodland on the other side of the road, and 
 they breakfasted hastily, conserving the last 
 fragments of food for their midday meal, and 
 started off. 
 
 They had left the last chimney of Parks- 
 ville well behind them when Jim suddenly 
 observed : 
 
 "You're limping, Lou. Let me see your 
 shoes." 
 
 She drew away from him. 
 
 "It's nothin'," she denied. "My shoes are 
 all right. I I must Ve slept too long last 
 night an' got sort of stiffened up." 
 
 The freckles were swamped in a deep flood 
 of color, but Jim repeated insistently: "Hold 
 up your foot, Lou." 
 
 Reluctantly she obeyed, disclosing a bat-
 
 REVELATIONS in 
 
 tered sole through the worn places of which 
 something green showed. 
 
 "I I stuffed it with leaves," she confessed, 
 defensively. "They're real comfortable, hon- 
 estly. I'm just stiff " 
 
 Jim groaned. 
 
 "I suppose they will have to do until we 
 reach the next town, but you should have 
 told me." 
 
 "I kin take care of myself," Lou asserted. 
 "I've walked in pretty near as bad as these in 
 the institootion. We'd better get along to 
 where there's some houses 'cause it looks to 
 me like a storm was comin' up." 
 
 The sun was still blazing down upon them, 
 but it was through a murky haze, and the air 
 seemed lifeless and heavy. Great, white- 
 crested thunder heads were mounting in the 
 sky, and behind them a dense blackness 
 spread. 
 
 "You're right; I never noticed " Jim 
 
 paused guiltily. After leaving the vicinity of 
 Parskville he had purposely led her on a de- 
 tour back into the farming country to avoid 
 the main highway, for along the river front
 
 ii2 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 were the estates of some people he knew and 
 he shrank from meeting them in his tramplike 
 condition if they should motor past. There 
 was Lou, too, to be considered. He might 
 have offered some possible explanation for his 
 own appearance, but no interpretation could 
 be placed upon her presence at his side save 
 that which he must prevent at all costs. 
 
 Rolling fields and woodland stretched away 
 inimitably on both sides of the road, and 
 not even a cow shed appeared as they hurried 
 onward, while the clouds mounted higher, and 
 the rumble of thunder grew upon the air. 
 The sun had vanished, and a strange, antici- 
 patory stillness enveloped them, broken only 
 by that hollow muttering. 
 
 "It's comin' up fast." Lou broke the silence 
 with one of her seldomly volunteered remarks. 
 "Shall we git into the woods? I'd as lief 
 dodge trees as be drowned in the road." 
 
 "Nol" Jim shook his head. "There is 
 some kind of a shack just ahead there; I think 
 we can make it before the storm comes." 
 
 They were fairly running now, but the 
 darkness was settling fast and a fork of light-
 
 REVELATIONS 113 
 
 ning darted blindingly across their path. The 
 object which Jim had taken for a shack 
 proved to be merely a pile of rotting tele- 
 graph poles, but no other shelter offered, and 
 they crouched in the lee of it, awaiting the 
 onslaught of rain. 
 
 "Take this, Lou." Jim wrapped his coat 
 about her in spite of her protestations. 
 "You're not afraid, are you?" 
 
 "No, I ain't I'm not but you're goin' to 
 get soaked through! I heard you coughin* 
 once or twice at the bottom of that haystack 
 last night." He thrilled unconsciously to the 
 motherliness in her tone. Then she added re- 
 flectively: "I don't guess I'm afraid of any- 
 thin' I've seen yet, but I ain't I haven't seen 
 much." 
 
 She ended' with a sharp intake of her 
 breath as a sudden gust of wind whirled the 
 dust up into their faces and another streak of 
 white light flashed before their eyes. Then 
 with a rush and roar the storm burst. 
 
 The woods marched straight down to the 
 roadside at this point, and the trees back of 
 the heap of poles moaned and writhed like 
 
 \
 
 H4 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 tortured creatures while great branches lashed 
 over their heads with now and then an omin- 
 ous crackle, but it was lost in the surge of the 
 winds and the ceaseless crash and roar of the 
 thunder. Jagged forks of lightning played 
 all about them like rapiers of steel, and at last 
 the rain came. 
 
 The brim of Lou's hat, hopelessly limp 
 since its cleansing of the previous day, now 
 flopped stringily against her face until she 
 tore it off and gasping, buried her head in her 
 arms as the sheets of rain pelted down. Jim's 
 coat was sodden, and the thin cotton gown be- 
 neath clung to her drenched body, but she 
 crouched closer to the poles while each volley 
 of thunder shook her as with invisible hands. 
 
 Her lashes were glued to her cheeks, but 
 she forced them open and turned to see how 
 Jim was faring. He had flattened himself 
 against the poles at their farther end, and just 
 as she looked his way a flash of lightning 
 seemed to split the air between them and the 
 huge old tree which reared its branches just 
 above his head, snapped like a dry twig be- 
 neath some giant heel.
 
 REVELATIONS 115 
 
 Leu saw the great oak totter and then sway, 
 while a sickening swirl of branches filled the 
 air, and scarcely conscious of her own act she 
 hurled herself upon Jim. With all the 
 strength borne of her terror she pushed him 
 from the heap of poles, sending him rolling 
 out into the middle of the road, to safety. 
 Then she tried to spring after him, but a hide- 
 ous, waiting lethargy seemed to encompass 
 her, and then with a mighty crash the tree fell 
 athwart the poles. 
 
 Half stunned by the unexpected onslaught 
 upon him and the rending blast of the falling 
 tree, Jim lay motionless for an instant, then 
 with a sharp cry sprang to his feet and turned 
 to look for Lou, but the pile of telegraph poles 
 was hidden beneath a broad sweep of 
 branches and across the place where she had 
 crouched the great trunk of the tree lay prone. 
 
 "Lou!" The cry burst from his very heart 
 as he sprang forward and began to tear fran- 
 tically at the stout limbs which barred his 
 way. "Oh, God, she isn't crushed! Don't 
 take her now, she's so little and young, and I 
 want her, I need her so! God!"
 
 ii6 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 He was unconscious that he was praying 
 aloud, unconscious of the words which issued 
 sobbingly from his lips. He tugged and tore 
 at the branches while the skin ripped like 
 ribbons from his hands and the boughs 
 whipped back to raise great welts upon his 
 face* 
 
 He was unconscious, too, of a stir at the 
 other side of the fallen tree and a rustle of 
 sodden leaves, as, very much after the manner 
 of a prairie dog emerging from his hole, Lou 
 crawled out into the rain, and sitting up, 
 sneezed. 
 
 At the sound of that meek sternutation Jim 
 whirled about. 
 
 "Lou!" 
 
 "Jim! Oh, Jim! You're not killed!" A 
 muddy, bedraggled little figure that once had 
 been pink and white flew straight to him, and 
 two soft arms swept about him and clung con- 
 vulsively. "I seen it comin', an' an' I tried 
 to shove you out of the way " 
 
 "Thank God, little girl! Thank God you 
 aren't hurt!" he murmured brokenly. "I 
 thought the tree had fallen on you !"
 
 REVELATIONS 117 
 
 "Only the boughs of it, but they Held me 
 down. Oh, Jim, if you'd been killed I 
 wouldn't 'a' cared what happened to mel" 
 
 His heart leaped, and his own arms tight- 
 ened about her at the naive, unconscious 
 revelation which had issued from her lips. 
 Then all at once he realized what it had 
 meant, that hideous feeling of loss when he 
 thought that she lay buried beneath the tree. 
 It had come to them both, revealed as by a 
 flash of the lightning which was now travel- 
 ing toward the east, and in the wonder and 
 joy of it he held her close for a moment and 
 then put her gently from him. 
 
 Sternly repressing the words whicH would 
 have rushed from his heart, he said quietly: 
 
 "Thank God we were both spared. Come, 
 little Lou, we must find shelter,"
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 JOURNEY'S END 
 
 rain had ceased, and as they walked 
 A down the muddy road the sun came out 
 even before the final mutterings of the thun- 
 der had died away in the distance, and so 
 they came at last upon a little house which 
 sat well back among a group of dripping 
 trees. 
 
 "Take your coat, Jim," Lou said, breaking 
 a long silence which had fallen between them. 
 "That porch is so wet now that we can't get 
 it any wetter an' I'm goin' to ask for a chance 
 to get dry." 
 
 But they had scarcely passed through the 
 gate when the front door opened and a young 
 woman rushed out. 
 
 "Oh! Will you run to the next house for 
 m and telephone for the doctor?" she cried, 
 
 118
 
 JOURNEY'S END 119 
 
 all in one breath. Her eyes were staring and 
 her breast heaved convulsively. 
 
 Jim quickened his pace. 
 
 "Where is the next house, and what doctor 
 shall I send for?" he asked pleasantly. 
 
 "It's just over the ridge there; the Colberts. 
 They know Dr. Blair's number. My husband 
 would go himself but he can't step on his 
 hurt foot and I don't dare leave. Tell the 
 Colberts that it's the baby! He's dying, and 
 I don't know what to do !" 
 
 Jim turned, and hurried off over the ridge, 
 but Lou took a step forward. 
 
 "Baby! I've been takin' care of babies all 
 my life, seems like. You let me look at it, 
 
 ma'am." 
 
 "Oh, do you think you could do anything, 
 a little thing like you?" 
 
 The young woman eyed the forlornly 
 drenched figure before her rather doubtfully, 
 but something she read in Lou's steady, con- 
 fident gaze seemed to reassure her, and she 
 threw wide the door. "Come in, please! 
 He's all blue." 
 
 Lou unceremoniously pushed past her
 
 120 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 down the clean little hallway and paused for 
 a moment upon the threshold of the room at 
 its end. It was a kitchen, small, but as im- 
 maculately clean as the hall, and in a rocking- 
 chair near the window sat an anxious-eyed 
 young man with his bandaged foot up on an- 
 other chair before him, and in his arms a tiny, 
 rigid little form. 
 
 Lou went straight to him and unceremoni- 
 ously possessed herself of the baby. 
 
 Its small face was waxen, with a bluish 
 tinge about the mouth, and half-closed, glaz- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 "How long's it been like this?" Lou de- 
 manded sharply. 
 
 "Only just a few minutes. It it seemed 
 like a sort of fit that he had." The young 
 woman turned to her husband. "Jack, this 
 little girl stopped by and said she knew all 
 about babies, and the man with her, he's gone 
 for " 
 
 "I want some hot water, quick!" Lou in- 
 terrupted the explanations brusquely. "Boil- 
 Ing hot, and a tub or a big pan. Have you 
 got the kettle on?"
 
 JOURNEY'S END 121 
 
 "Y-yes, but I'm afraid I've let the fire go 
 out," the woman faltered. "I was so wor- 
 ried " 
 
 With an exclamation of impatience Lou re- 
 wrapped the baby which she had been ex- 
 amining and thrust it into the man's arms. 
 Then turning to the woman with exasperation 
 in her eyes and voice she demanded : 
 
 "I s'pose you can find some dry chips, some- 
 where, can't you? If I don't get this baby 
 into a hot bath right away it'll be all up with 
 him." 
 
 The woman gasped, and ran out of the back 
 door while the young man in the chair 
 groaned : 
 
 "It's awful to sit here helpless and watch 
 him suffer! If I could only put my foot to 
 the floor " 
 
 "How old is he, anyway?" Lou, who was 
 busily searching the shelf of groceries, asked 
 over her shoulder. "He looks to be under a 
 year." 
 
 "Ten months, miss," he answered. "What 
 do you think is the matter with him?" 
 
 "Convulsion," Lou replied succinctly, as the
 
 122 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 woman rushed in once more with her apron 
 full of chips. "Git some more, it don't mat- 
 ter how you clog the stove with wood ashes; 
 we gotta git boilin' water as quick as we kin." 
 
 Meanwhile Jim found the Colbert house, 
 explained his mission, and having accom- 
 plished it, hastened back. He pulled the bell, 
 but no one came, and knocking, found that 
 the door yielded to his touch. Entering, he 
 went down the hall and paused at the kitchen 
 door just as the woman stammered : 
 
 "I d-don't think there are any dry kin- 
 dlings left." 
 
 "Then chop some! Ain't you got any old 
 boxes? Oh, Jim!" Lou caught sight of him 
 in the doorway. "Find a hatchet and some 
 light, dry wood, will you?" 
 
 The fire was roaring in the stove at last, but 
 the water was long in boiling, and the little 
 figure in the man's arms seemed to be under- 
 going a subtle but inevitable change. His 
 lips were still parted, but no faintest stir of 
 breath emanated from them, and the rigidity 
 had taken on a marblelike cast.
 
 JOURNEY'S END 123 
 
 The mother bent over him, moaning once 
 more, but Lou turned upon her in swift scorn. 
 
 "For goodness' sake, where's that tub or 
 pan I asked you for? He's got a chance, a 
 good chance if you don't waste any more time! 
 What you been givin' him, anyway?" she 
 added, as the woman flew to do her bidding. 
 
 "Nothing but a little green corn. He 
 relishes it, and it's so cute to see him try to 
 chew it " 
 
 "Green corn I" Lou repeated, as she seized 
 the heavy kettle and began pouring its steam- 
 ing contents into the tub. "Ain't nobody in 
 your family ever had any babies before?" 
 
 She hastily added to the tub a quantity of 
 yellowish powder from a can which he had 
 found upon the shelf of groceries, and 
 marched determinedly over to the man who 
 was seated in the chair. 
 
 "Give me that baby!" she demanded. 
 
 "But, miss, that water's boiling!" he gasped. 
 
 "You're not going to put my baby in that?" 
 The woman came quickly from her apathy 
 of dismay and sprang forward, while Jim, 
 too, advanced, his anxiety for another reason.
 
 124 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "Lou! You'll blister yourself horribly 
 
 "Let me alone, all of you!" Lou turned 
 upon them even as she stripped the wrappings 
 from the child. "Haven't I done this a hun- 
 dred times? He ain't even goin' to feel the 
 heat of the mustard, he's so far gone! I 
 guess I know what I'm doin'!" 
 
 The woman buried her face in her hands 
 with a sob, and even Jim turned away his 
 eyes, but no one thought to interfere further 
 with the assured little nurse. There was a 
 splash of water, a little gasp from Lou, and 
 then after a period which seemed interminable 
 her matter-of-fact voice remarked : 
 
 "He's comin' round." 
 
 The tiny body was scarcely tinged with 
 pink, but it had lost its dreadful rigidity, and 
 a faint cry came from it as Lou wrapped it in 
 a shawl and laid it in its mother's arms. 
 
 "He'll do now, anyway till that doctor 
 
 comes." 
 
 Amid the rejoicing of the parents Jim ad- 
 vanced to Lou and demanded : 
 "Let me see your arms." 
 "They're all right" She tried to put
 
 JOURNEY'S END 125 
 
 them behind her as she spoke, but he drew 
 them forward. A network of blisters cov- 
 ered them almost to the shoulders. 
 
 "Oh, Lou! Lou!" he murmured brokenly. 
 "What won't you do next?" 
 
 She smiled faintly. 
 
 "You said I'd do anything once, but I've 
 done this lots of times before " 
 
 "Well, well, good people! What's going 
 on here?" A kindly voice sounded from the 
 doorway, and the woman turned with a little 
 cry. 
 
 "Oh, Dr. Blair, she saved the baby! Put 
 him down in that scalding water and held 
 him right there with her hands, and she's 
 burned herself something terrible, but she 
 saved him! I never saw a braver " 
 
 "Let me see." 
 
 The doctor examined the baby with pro- 
 fessional gravky and then looked up. 
 
 "I should say you did save him, young 
 woman! I couldn't have done better for him 
 myself! Now let me have a look at those arms 
 of yours." 
 
 After he had bandaged her blisters the
 
 i 2 6 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 woman prepared food and coffee for them all 
 and then took Lou upstairs with her, while 
 Jim dried his soaking clothes by the kitchen 
 fire and the three men talked in a desultory 
 way of the topics of the countryside. 
 
 Dr. Blair had just ascertained that Jim and 
 his "sister" were strangers, traveling toward 
 New York, and had offered to drive them 
 both to the trolley line in his little car, when 
 the woman of the house reappeared with Lou, 
 and Jim stared with all his eyes. 
 
 Could this be the little scarecrow of a girl 
 he had met on the road only five days before; 
 this unbelievably tall, slender young woman 
 in the dark blue silk gown with filmy ruffles 
 falling about her neck and wrists, and soft 
 puffs of blond hair over her ears? 
 
 "It's me, though I kin hardly believe it 
 myself!" Lou answered his unspoken thought. 
 Then drawing him aside she added: "Mis 1 
 Tooker that's her name gave me a pair of 
 shoes, too, an' a hat an' five whole dollars! 
 Are we goin' to a place called Pelton?" 
 
 Jim nodded. 
 
 "That is where I hoped we would be by
 
 JOURNEY'S END 127 
 
 to-night, but it must be at least twelve miles 
 away." 
 
 "Well, Mis' Tooker says the trolley goes 
 right into Pelton, and she gave me a letter to 
 a friend of hers there who'll take us in for the 
 night " 
 
 The doctor interrupted with an intimation 
 of another patient to be visited, and they bade 
 farewell to the grateful young couple and 
 started away. The sun was still high, and 
 gave for the mud which splashed up with each 
 turn of the wheels, all traces of the storm had 
 vanished. 
 
 "Jennie Tooker always was a fool!" Dr. 
 Blair grumbled. "How many babies have 
 you taken care of, young woman?" 
 
 "More 'n twenty, I guess, off an' on," Lou 
 responded. "I I used to work in an institoo- 
 tion up-State." 
 
 Fearing further revelations, Jim hastily 
 took a hand in the conversation, and he and 
 the doctor chatted until the trolley line was 
 reached. There, when they had descended 
 from the little car Lou turned to Jim and 
 asked a trifle shyly:
 
 i 2 8 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "You you're goin' to let me ask you to 
 ride, aren't you? You bought all the food in 
 Riverburgh, you know." 
 
 "And you seem to have financed all the rest 
 of the trip," he said with a rueful laugh. "I 
 thought, when you suggested that we should 
 travel together, I would be the one to take 
 care of you, but it has been the other way 
 around. Oh, Lou, I've so much to say to you 
 when we reach our journey's end !" 
 
 They arrived at Pelton before dark and 
 found Mrs. Tooker's friend, who ran a small 
 boarding-house for store employees, and was 
 glad to take them in at a dollar a head. Lou 
 disappeared after supper, and although Lou 
 waited long for him on the little porch, he did 
 not return until through sheer fatigue she was 
 forced to go to bed. 
 
 In the morning, however, when they met 
 before breakfast in the lower hall he jingled 
 a handful of silver in his pocket. 
 
 "However did you git it?" she demanded. 
 
 "Garage," he responded succinctly. "Didn't 
 know I was a chauffeur, did you, Lou?"
 
 JOURNEY'S END 129 
 
 A peculiar little smile hovered for a mo- 
 ment about her lips, but she merely remarked : 
 
 "I thought you wouldn't only take a 
 quarter " 
 
 "For each job," he interrupted her. "A 
 lot of cars came in that needed tinkering with 
 after the storm, and they were short of hands. 
 I made more than two dollars, and we'll ride 
 in state into Hunnikers!" 
 
 Lou made no reply, but after breakfast she 
 drew him out on the little porch. 
 
 "Jini) I I'm not goin' on." 
 
 "What!" he exclaimed. 
 
 "The woman that runs this place, she she 
 wants a girl to help her, an' I guess I'll stay." 
 Lou's tones were none too steady, and she did 
 not meet his eyes. "I I don't believe I'd 
 like New York." 
 
 "You, a servant here?" He took one of her 
 hands very gently in his. "I didn't mean to 
 tell you until we were nearly there, and as it 
 is, there is a lot that I can't tell you even now, 
 but this much I want you to know. You're 
 not going to work any more, Lou. You're 
 going to a lovely old lady who lives in a big
 
 I 3 o ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 house all by herself, and there you are going 
 to study and play until you are really grown 
 up, and know as much as anybody." 
 
 She smiled and shook her head. 
 
 "This is the sort of place for me, Jim. I 
 wasn't meant for anythin' else, an' if I should 
 live to be a hundred I could never know as 
 much as that lady at the circus who called you 
 'Jimmie Abbott.' " 
 
 "What " Jim exploded for the second 
 time. 
 
 "At least, she said you looked like him, and 
 if she didn't know you were in Canada " 
 
 "Good Lord! What was she doing there?" 
 
 "She was with another lady an' two gentle- 
 men, an' I guess they come in an ottermobile," 
 Lou explained. "They was in one the next 
 day, anyway the one that slammed into the 
 egg wagon." 
 
 She described in detail the two occur- 
 rences, and added miserably: 
 
 "I didn't mean to tell you, Jim, but as long 
 as I'm not goin' on with you I might as well. 
 It was me that walked on your note-book back 
 there on Mrs. Bemis's porch. It had fallen
 
 JOURNEY'S END 131 
 
 open on the floor, an' when I picked it up I 
 couldn't help seein' the name that was written 
 across the page. It was your own business, of 
 course, if you didn't want to give your real 
 name to anybody " 
 
 "Listen, Lou." He had caught her other 
 hand now and was holding them both very 
 tightly. "You are going on with me ! I can't 
 explain now about my name, but it doesn't 
 matter; nothing matters except that you are 
 not going to be a quitter! You said that you 
 would go on to New York with me, and you're 
 going to keep your word." 
 
 "I know better now," she replied quietly. 
 "It's it's been a wonderful time, but I've got 
 to work an' earn my keep an' try to learn as 
 I go along. It isn't just exactly breakin' my 
 word; I didn't realize " 
 
 "Realize what?" he demanded as she hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 "I thought at first that you were kinder like 
 me; it wasn't until I saw that lady an' found 
 you were a friend of hers, that I knew you 
 were different." 
 
 Her eyes were still downcast, and now a
 
 132 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 tinge of color mounted in her cheeks. "I 
 couldn't bear to have you take me to that 
 other lady in the city and be a-ashamed of 
 me " 
 
 "Ashamed of you!" he repeated, and some- 
 thing in his tone deepened the color in her 
 cheeks into a crimson tide. "Lou, look at 
 me!" 
 
 Obediently she raised her eyes for an in- 
 stant; then lowered them again quickly, and 
 after a pause she said in a very small voice: 
 
 "All right, Jim. I I'll go. I guess I 
 wouldn't just want to be a a quitter, after 
 all." 
 
 It was mid-afternoon when they walked into 
 Hunnikers and although they had come ten 
 long miles with only a stop for a picnic lunch 
 between, they bore no traces of fatigue. 
 Rather they appeared to have been treading 
 on air, and although Jim had scrupulously 
 avoided any further reference to the future, 
 there was a certain buoyant assurance about 
 him which indicated that in his own mind, 
 at least, there remained no room for doubt. 
 
 He needed all the assurance he could
 
 JOURNEY'S END 133 
 
 muster as, after ensconcing Lou at the soda 
 counter in the drug-store, he approached the 
 telephone booth farthest from her ears and 
 closed the door carefully behind him. Lou 
 consumed her soda to its last delectable drop, 
 glanced down anxiously at the worn, but spot- 
 less, little silk gown to see if she had spilled 
 any upon it, and then wandered over to the 
 showcase. 
 
 Jim's voice came to her indistinguishably 
 once or twice, but it was a full half-hour 
 before he emerged from the booth. He 
 looked wilted but triumphant, and he beamed 
 blissfully as he came toward her, mopping his 
 brow. He suspected that at the. other end of 
 the wire a certain gray-haired, aristocratic old 
 lady was having violent hysterics to the im- 
 mediate concern of three maids and an 
 asthmatic Pekinese, but it did not disturb his 
 equanimity. 
 
 "It's all right," he announced. "Aunt 
 Emmy expects you; I didn't tell you, did I, 
 that the lady I'm taking you to is my aunt? 
 No matter. She's awfully easy if you get on 
 the right side of her; I've always managed
 
 i 3 4 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 her beautifully ever since I was a kid, and 
 you'll have her rolling over and playing dead 
 in no time. Fifteen miles more to go, Lou, 
 and we'll be " 
 
 "Hello, there, Jim." An oil-soaked and 
 greasy glove clapped his shoulder and as he 
 turned, the same voice, suddenly altered, 
 stammered : "Oh, I beg your pardon 
 
 " 'Lo, Harry!" Jim turned to greet a tall, 
 lean individual more tanned than himself, 
 with little, fine, weather lines about his eyes 
 and an abrupt quickness of gesture which de- 
 noted his hair-triggered nerves. "What are 
 you doing in this man's town?" 
 
 "Motoring down from the Hilton's," the 
 other responded. "Pete was coming with me, 
 but at the last minute he decided to stay over 
 the week-end. I'm off to Washington to-night 
 to see about my passport; sailing next Wed- 
 nesday for Labrador, you know." 
 
 "Then you're alone?" Jim turned. "Miss 
 Lacey, let me present Mr. Van Ness; he 
 spends his time trailing all over the earth to 
 find something to kill. Miss Lacey is a young
 
 JOURNEY'S END 135 
 
 friend of my aunt's; I'm taking her down to 
 her for a visit" 
 
 The explanation sounded somewhat in- 
 volved, but Mr. Van Ness seemed to grasp 
 it, and bowed. 
 
 "You're motoring, too?" he asked. 
 
 "No. I The fact is " Jim stammered 
 in his turn. "We were thinking of taking the 
 train " 
 
 "Why not let me take you both down in the 
 car?" The other rose to the occasion with 
 evident alacrity. "Miss Lacy will like it bet- 
 ter than the train, I'm sure, and I haven't 
 seen you for an age, old man." 
 
 Jim accepted with a promptitude which 
 proclaimed a mind relieved of its final bur- 
 den, and he turned to Lou. Mr. Van Ness 
 had gone out to see to his car, and they were 
 alone at a far corner of the counter. 
 
 "How about it, Lou? The last lap! The 
 last fifteen miles. It's been a long pull some- 
 times, and we've had some rough going, but 
 it was worth it, wasn't it?" 
 
 Her eyes all unconsciously gave him an- 
 swer even before she repeatedly softly:
 
 136 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 " 'The last lap.' Oh, Jim, shall I see you 
 some time, at this lady's house where you are 
 takin' me?" 
 
 "Every day," he promised, adding with 
 cheerful mendacity: "I dine with her nearly 
 all the time; have for years. Come on, Lou. 
 Harry's waving at us." 
 
 Through the village and the pleasant roll- 
 ing country beyond; past huge, wide-spread- 
 ing estates and tiny cottages, and clusters of 
 small shops with the trolley winding like a 
 thread between, the big maroon car sped, 
 while the two men talked together of many 
 things, and the girl sat back in her corner of 
 the roomy tonneau and gave herself up to 
 vague dreams. 
 
 Then the cottages gave place to sporadic 
 growths of brick and mortar with more open 
 lots between, but even these gaps finally 
 closed, and Lou found herself being borne 
 swiftly through street after street of tower- 
 ing houses out upon a broad avenue with 
 palaces such as she had never dreamed of on 
 one side, and on the other the seared, droop- 
 ing green of a city park in late summer.
 
 JOURNEY'S END 137 
 
 It was still light when the big car swept 
 into an exclusive street of brownstone houses 
 of an earlier and still more exclusive period, 
 and stopped before the proudest of these. 
 
 Jim alighted and held out his hand. 
 
 "Come, Lou," he said. "Journey's end."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 THE LONG, LONG TRAIL 
 
 THREE hours later, in that same proudly 
 exclusive house, an elderly lady with 
 gray hair and an aristocratically high, thin 
 nose paced the floor of her drawing-room 
 with a vigor which denoted some strong 
 emotion. 
 
 "I must say, John, that I think the whole 
 affair, whatever it may be, is highly repre- 
 hensible. I supposed James to be up in Canada 
 on a fishing trip when he telephoned me this 
 morning from somewhere near town with a 
 a most extraordinary message " 
 
 She broke off, glancing cautiously toward 
 a room across the hall, and added: "He said 
 he had something to tell me, and he would 
 be here this evening. Now you come, and 
 you appear to know something about it, but 
 I cannot get a word out of you!" 
 
 138
 
 THE LONG, LONG TRAIL 139 
 
 "All I can tell you, Mrs. Abbott, is that if 
 Jimmie does come to-night, I've got to pay 
 him a thousand bones dollars, I mean. It 
 was a sort of a wager, and that must be what 
 he wants to tell you about." 
 
 It was an exceedingly stout young man with 
 a round, cherubic countenance standing by 
 the mantel who replied to her, and the old 
 lady glanced at him sharply. 
 
 "A wager? H-m! Possibly." She paused 
 suddenly. "There's the bell." 
 
 A moment later James Tarrisford Abbott, 
 in the most immaculate of dinner clothes, 
 entered and greeted his aunt, halting with a 
 slight frown as he encountered the beaming 
 face of the young man who fell upon him. 
 
 "Good boy, Jimmie! You made it, after 
 all!" 
 
 "With a few hours to spare." Jim darted 
 a questioning glance at his aunt, and seemed 
 relieved at her emphatic shake of the head. 
 
 "I knew we'd lost when Mrs. Abbott told 
 me that you had telephoned to her from just 
 a little way out of town to-day," Jack Trim- 
 ble responded. "I ran over on my way to the
 
 140 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 club to give her a message from my mother. 
 Did you have a hard time of it, old man?" 
 
 "Hard?" Jim smiled. "I've been a rough- 
 rider in a circus " 
 
 Mrs. Abbott groaned, but Jack Trimble's 
 eyes opened as roundly and wide as his mouth. 
 
 "Thundering So it was you after all!" 
 
 "Me?" Jim demanded with ungrammat- 
 ical haste. 
 
 "You rough-rider circus!" Jack ex- 
 claimed. "Vera said the chap looked like 
 you, but it never occurred to me that it could 
 possibly be!" 
 
 "So it was Vera, was it?" Jim smiled. "I 
 heard what she said I mean, it was repeated 
 to me. You were one of that party?" 
 
 "Yes. We were with" the Lentilhons in their 
 car, and the funniest thing happened the next 
 'day on the way home! Crusty old farmer 
 wouldn't turn out on the road, and Guy Len- 
 tilhon lost control and smashed straight 
 through his wagon !" Jack laughed. "W-what 
 do you think it was loaded with?" 
 
 "Eggs!" responded Jim crisply. "I hap- 
 pened to be on it at the time, my boy, and
 
 THE LONG, LONG TRAIL 141 
 
 your sense of humor I hope you all got 
 what I did! But I must explain to Aunt 
 Emmy here, or she will think that we are 
 both quite mad!" 
 
 "And I must be off to the club," Jack an- 
 nounced. "I'll break the news to Billy Hollfs 
 that we've lost. See you later, and we'll all 
 settle up. Good evening, Mrs. Abbott." 
 
 When the stout young man had taken his 
 departure, Mrs. Abbott turned to her nephew 
 between laughter and tears. 
 
 "James, this is the maddest of all mad 
 things that you have ever done!" 
 
 "Jack doesn't know anything about Lou?" 
 Jim demanded anxiously. 
 
 "Certainly not. He has only been here a 
 quarter of an hour, and I kept her out of the 
 way. But, James, you cannot be serious! 
 You cannot mean to marry this nameless 
 waif?" 
 
 "Stop right there, Aunt Emmy," he inter- 
 rupted her firmly. "I'm going to marry, if 
 she will have me, your ward whom you have 
 legally adopted; I mean, you will have 
 adopted her by the time she has grown up.
 
 142 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 But I don't intend to be nosed out by any of 
 these debutante-grabbers; I'm going to have 
 everything settled before her studies are fin- 
 ished and you bring her out. I saw her first!" 
 
 "H-m. We shall see," Aunt Emmy re- 
 marked dryly, adding: "But that can wait 
 for the moment. What was this ridiculous 
 wager all about, and how did you get into 
 such horrible scrapes?" 
 
 "The whole thing came out of an idle dis- 
 cussion Jack Trimble, Billy Hollis and I had 
 at the club one night concerning human na- 
 ture. It drifted into a debate about charity 
 in general and the kindness shown toward 
 strangers by country folk in particular, with 
 myself in the. minority, of course," Jim ex- 
 plained. 
 
 "They each wagered me a thousand against 
 my five hundred that I couldn't walk from 
 Buffalo to New York in twenty-five days with 
 only five dollars in my pocket to start with, 
 and work my way home without begging nor 
 accepting more than a quarter for each job I 
 managed to secure in any one time. 
 
 "The idea was to see how many of these
 
 THE LONG, LONG TRAIL 143 
 
 hard-boiled up-State farmers we hear so 
 much about would offer you the hospitality 
 reputed to be extended only by the rural popu- 
 lation of the South and West, and how many 
 would give a foot-sore and weary traveler a 
 lift upon the way. There were other condi- 
 tions, too; I was not to use my own surname, 
 not to go a foot out of the State into either 
 Pennsylvania or New Jersey. I was not to beg, 
 borrow, or steal, and for the occasional 
 twenty-five cents I might earn I could only 
 purchase food or actual necessities, not use it 
 for transportation, and I must not beat my 
 way by stealing rides on boats or trains or any 
 other conveyances." 
 
 While Aunt Emmy sat staring at him in 
 speechless amazement, Jim produced his lit- 
 tle red note-book and laid it before her. 
 
 "There's the route I chose over the moun- 
 tains, my expense account for each day, and 
 the names and addresses of the people who 
 helped to prove my contention that, take them 
 by and large, the people of my own State are 
 as big-hearted as any in the Union, and Jack's 
 money and Billy's says that they are!
 
 144 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 "I'm going to return some of that kindness, 
 Aunt Emmy. There are two little boys near 
 Riverburgh whose father is dead and who are 
 trying to do the farm work of men. They 
 are going to a good school this winter, and 
 there are a few other people who are going 
 to be surprised! By Jove, I never realized 
 what money was for until now! But best of 
 all, I found Lou!" 
 
 "And what makes you so sure that I am 
 going to adopt her and educate her and bring 
 her out?" demanded Aunt Emmy. "My dear 
 boy, when you started on this Canadian fish- 
 ing trip of yours I knew that something extra- 
 ordinary would come of it, but I did not 
 anticipate anything so bizarre as this! Why 
 do you think that I will interest myself in 
 this child?" 
 
 "Because you won't be able to help it." His 
 face had sobered, and there was a note in his 
 voice that his aunt had never heard before. 
 "You won't be able to help loving her when 
 you find out how courageous she is, and sin- 
 cere and true! She is the biggest-hearted, 
 most candid, naive little "
 
 THE LONG, LONG TRAIL 145 
 
 "She is quite that!" Aunt Emmy inter- 
 rupted in her turn, with emphasis. "How I 
 am ever to hide her away until I've had her 
 coached not to drop her g's, and to realize that 
 there is a V in the alphabet I don't know, but 
 I'll try. James I think there are distinct 
 possibilities there." 
 
 "I knew it!" Jim cried. "I knew you 
 wouldn't be able to resist her! For the Lord's 
 sake, Aunt jEmmy, don't let them spoil her! 
 She's so sweet and simple-hearted, don't let 
 them make her cynical and worldly-wise! I'll 
 promise not to speak to her, not to let her 
 know how I feel until you say that I may." 
 
 "Will you, James?" There was a faint 
 smile about the delicately lined lips. "She is 
 a child in many ways, a blank page for most 
 impressions to be made upon, but in other 
 things she is very much of a woman, and I 
 rather fancy that what you have to tell her 
 will not be so much of a surprise." 
 
 "You old dear!" Jim sprang to his feet 
 and folded his aunt in his embrace which 
 threatened her coiffure. "Where is she?" 
 
 "In the library waiting for you, Jamie!"
 
 146 ANYTHING ONCE 
 
 She used the old nursery name, and caught 
 his arm. "She is very young, but the heart 
 sometimes breaks easily then. Don't speak 
 unless you yourself are very sure." 
 
 Jim smiled, and throwing back his head 
 looked straight into the kindly old eyes. Then 
 without a word he turned and disappeared 
 through the door. 
 
 "And you're going to be happy here?" It 
 was some time later when Jim had explained 
 about the wager, and they were sitting to- 
 gether in the window-seat. 
 
 "Happy? Why, Jim, I can't believe I'm 
 awake! I'm going to study an' work an' try 
 my best to be like her. Seems to me it'll take 
 the rest of my life, but she says that in a year 
 or two there won't anybody hardly tell the 
 difference." 
 
 "And then, Lou, when the time is past? 
 What then?" 
 
 "I don't know." Her tone was serenely un- 
 concerned. 
 
 "That trail we've followed together for the
 
 THE LONG, LONG TRAIL 147 
 
 last week wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked. 
 "You were happy in spite of the hardships?" 
 
 "It was wonderful!" She drew a deep 
 breath. "I I wish we could start again, Jim, 
 and do it all over again, every step of the 
 way!" 
 
 "If you feel like that, dear, perhaps some 
 day when you have finished your studies we 
 will start again on a longer trail." He took 
 one of the little toil-worn hands in his. "The 
 long, long trail, Lou, only we will be to- 
 gether! When that day comes, will you take 
 the new road with me?" 
 
 She bowed her head, and somehow he 
 found it nestling in the hollow of his shoulder, 
 and his arms were about her. After a long 
 minute, she stirred and smiled. 
 
 "Well " she hesitated. "You knew from 
 the very beginning, Jim, that I'd do anything 
 once!" 
 
 THE END
 
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