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Mr. Wopp looked up in approval and brandished a formidable looking piece of fat meat, precariously poised on one prong of his fork and in his efforts to lose none of its dripping flavor, described an uncertain spiral in the air. “Grand chain,” bawled Geordie evidently feeling his importance, “dos-et-dos, ladies’ chain, swing on the corners, and put some feelin’ in your step. Edith had quickly put her plan in execution, aided by the willing newspapers; but so far nothing had come of it, and mother and daughter feared their charge had lost more than aunt and cousin. South America, a very definite spot in the child’s mind, was still too vague a postoffice address for even Uncle Sam’s marvellous mail-carrying; and so, while encouraging May Nell, the two women tacitly adopted her into their hearts and discussed her future as if she were their own..

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Yet almost before the prayer was breathed the child with incredible swiftness scudded across the bending board and stood safe by his side! What if they should find him? Gee! Couldn’t a boy run faster than a man? Another sound banished these thoughts; wheels on the road, whose thick coat of dust almost hushed the ring of metal tires. A horseman before, and now a wagon; this was an unusual amount of travel for that lonely road. Mrs. Wopp’s eagle eye, again rested on the lowering face of her offspring. He laughed coarsely. “George Smith’s kid, all right. You’ve got the same high way with you.”.