and the eaves dripped. A crow was cawing somewhere. Birt had
paused to let the mule rest, and the raucous sound caused him to
turn his head. His heart gave a bound when he saw that on the other
side of the fence the underbrush was astir along the path which
wound through the woods to the tanyard. Somebody was coming; he
hoped even yet that it might be Nate. He eagerly watched the
rustling boughs. The crow had flown, but he heard as he waited a
faint "caw! caw!" in the misty distance. Whoever the newcomer might
be, he certainly loitered. At last the leaves parted, and revealed-
-Rufe.

Birt's first sensation was renewed disappointment. Then he was
disposed to investigate the mystery of Nate's non-appearance.

"Hello, Rufe!" he called out, as soon as the small boy was inside
the tanyard, "be you-uns SURE ez Nate said he'd come over by sun-
up?"

Rufe halted and gazed about him, endeavoring to conjure an
expression of surprise into his freckled face. He even opened his
mouth to exhibit astonishment--exhibiting chiefly that equivocal
tongue, and a large assortment of jagged squirrel teeth.

"Hain't Nate come yit?" he ventured.

The tanner suddenly put into the conversation.

"War it Nate Griggs ez ye war aimin' ter trade with ter take yer
place wunst in a while in the tanyard?"