call that I had to answer. God just picked me up and planted me here on
my bit of land, and I've got to root and grow or--or dishonor Him."

"Oh, Sam, you have, you have honored Him," I said as I crept closer to
his arm.

"I've been all uprooted and pruned, Betty, and I've lost--lost--you
know! But for Him I must go on just the same and bear fruit." At the
pain in Sam's low voice something in me throbbed.

"Lost? Oh, Sam, what?" I exclaimed, as I hugged his arm against my
breast. "What's happened to you, Sam? Tell--"

But just here we were interrupted by a clatter and a clash of hoofs, a
wild shout in Peter's voice, and a cheer in the fledgling's high treble.
The biggest mule lurched up to the gate, and two figures took a flying
leap from his back to the pavement. With a rush they swept up the path
and brought up panting at the bottom of our steps.

"Peter!" I gasped, descending to be sure that neither of them was bodily
broken or demented.

"It's across! it's across!" shouted Peter as he reached out his arms and
grabbed me in a wild embrace.

"What?" Sam and I both demanded, though, of course, in a way we knew.

"The play!" exclaimed Peter, putting his head down on my shoulder and
fairly sobbing out his relief. "Farrington is going to begin rehearsals
from the first two acts I've sent him, and I am to go right on to New