MARTIN'S SON SHAKES OFF THE DUST

THE very next day, Mrs. Wade rented a room for Bill in the same
home in which Rose boarded, and for the rest of the winter she
and Martin went on as before--working as hard as ever and making
money even faster, while peace settled over their household, a
peace so profound that, in her more intuitive moments, Bill's
mother felt in it an ominous quality.

The storm broke with the summer vacation and the boy's
point-blank refusal to return to farm work. His father laid down
an ultimatum: until he came home he should not have a cent even
from his mother, and home he should not come, at all, until he
was willing to carry his share of the farm work willingly, and
without further argument. "You see," he pointed out to his wife,
"that's the thanks I get for managing along without him this
winter. The ungrateful young rascal! If he doesn't come to his
senses shortly--"

"Oh, Martin, don't do anything rash," implored Mrs. Wade. "Nearly
all boys go through this period. Just be patient with him."

But even she was shaken when his Aunt Nellie, over ostensibly for
an afternoon of sociable carpet-rag sewing, began abruptly: "Do
you know what Bill is doing, Rose?"

"Working in the mines," returned his mother easily. "Isn't it
strange, Nellie, that he should be digging coal right under this
farm, the very coal that gave Martin his start?"