When Dr. Fenneben returned to his study after the hilarious
demonstration he found Dennie Saxon busy with the little film
of dust that comes in overnight. Old Bond Saxon, Dennie's father,
had been one of the improvident of Lagonda Ledge who took a new lease
on a livelihood with the advent of Sunrise. From being a dissipated
old fellow drifting toward pauperism, he became the proprietor
of a respectable boarding house for students, doing average well.
At rare intervals, however, he lapsed into his old ways.
During such occasions he kept to the river side of the town.
Sober, he was good-natured and obliging; drunken, he was sullen,
with a disposition to skulk out of sight and be alone.
His daughter Dennie had her father's good-nature combined with
a will power all her own.

As Dr. Fenneben watched her about her work this morning, he noted
how comfortably she took hold of it. He noted, too, that her heavy
yellow-brown hair was full of ripples just where ripples helped,
that her arms were plump, that she was short and nothing willowy,
and that she had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Why don't you take a holiday, Miss Dennie?" he asked, presently.

"I wanted this done so I wouldn't be seeing dusty books
in my daydreams," Dennie answered.

"Where do you do your dreaming today?"

"A crowd of us are going down the river to the Kickapoo Corral. I must
make the cakes yet this morning," she answered.