broad-brimmed, was not a sombrero, and the respectable, loose-fitting
suit of clothes was not of buckskin with tassels on the trousers; and
likewise that he came without the cartridge belt and holster which they
had pictured in anticipatory sessions on the baggage-trucks. There could
be no doubt of the warmth of their greeting as they sidled up and seized
a hand somewhat larger than theirs, but the welcome had in it an
ingredient of awe that puzzled the newcomer, who did not hesitate to
inquire:--"What's the matter, Ed? Why so ceremonious, Perley?"

But his eagerness did not permit him to wait for explanations. Grasping
his bag, the only baggage he possessed, he started off at a swinging
stride for Hanover Street, pausing only to shake the hands of the few who
recognized him, unconscious of the wild-fire at his back. Hanover Street
was empty that drowsy summer afternoon, and he stopped under the
well-remembered maples before the house and gazed at it long and
tenderly; even at the windows of that room--open now for the first time
in years--where he had served so many sentences of imprisonment. Then he
went cautiously around by the side and looked in at the kitchen door. To
other eyes than his Euphrasia might not have seemed a safe person to
embrace, but in a moment he had her locked in his arms and weeping. She
knew nothing as yet of Mr. Blodgett's misfortunes, but if Austen Vane had
depopulated a county it would have made no difference in her affection.

"My, but you're a man," exclaimed Euphrasia, backing away at last and
staring at him with the only complete approval she had ever accorded to
any human being save one.

"What did you expect, Phrasie?"

"Come, and I'll show you your room," she said, in a gutter she could not