n the wood, the farmhouse and the river than he'd known for days. He had walked into his picture. Now with perspective gone,

ng uncles? ... Hum ... Joel Ashley's boy had run away but the uncle there had been a stepmother. Was the runaway boy anybody's long lost heir? A pity! One read such things in the papers. Years back there had been a scandal about a gi

hortly, "to find a river. I'l

owever, he admitted a confusing plentitude of woods, hills and farmhouses. Dangerously near the state of mind Garry called "running in

inn. He forgot the village. Another gust of warm, sweet wind, another shower

aled the glint of the river. After that by all the dictates of convenience it should have curved again and continued its course to Kenny's destination, pleasantly parallel with the bends of the river. Instead it crossed the river bridge and went

ision. Upstream or downstream? Heaven alone knew! Whichever way he elected to go would

come. He would travel upstream and mail his letter when he found the village. Kenny conversely had found the village first. Therefore he

ind was in ferment. What if the boy had written to his sister? Must he vagabond forth again with the morning into a world of bucolic dawns, alarm-clock farmer

glided endlessly on in sylvan peace. The other shore looked better. There the wind-bent shag of trees was greener save when, with a hint of rain, the

with birds and the sound of the river, he came to the end of his journey-a wood, stretching steeply up a

y to credit her crowning whimsy. In a fury of exasperation he clambered down to the water's

rest to the south speckled the sky behind the chimney. To Kenny's ardent fancy, the old house, built of gray and ancient stone, became a rugged cameo

river's edge and to a boat. Kenny

He might even camp on the river bank and if ever a foot came down the path and toward the boat, he would

ith Kenny tossed hi

orn upon the willow an

Farm

blow

its perhaps, romance, a ferryman! Thank God the tree was old, the ho

nd the wooded hills seemed to fling the echo back upon him. In better humor he flun

the legend dimly adrift in his brain, dreamed that he too must wait until a ferryman grew up. He grew up on the further shore to a youth in patches and then all at once the dream became a be

O'N

p the dream to the end. If he m

A hand touche

lear. Well, if a man must dream, let him dream thus, vividly, turning the clock back to maids unbelievably quaint and winsome in old b

d brocade! The mystery of her gown, the river setting, the laughing sweetness of her face, rooted him to the spot in wonder and delight. He knew every subtlety of her coloring in one glance. Her soft exquisite eyes were brown. Tragi

eler knows the landmarks of an old, familiar road. Heaven help him, one of his periodic fits of madness was upon h

om of experience that it would not, could not last. Almost he could have forecast to the day the sad descent into sanity, reactive, monotonous, unemotional, inevitable as the end

as an artist. It was unthinkable. Nay, it was unscrupulous, for the greatness of his gift Kenny regarded as an obligation. Besides, Kenny denie

e blamed the girl. A girl with a face like that had absolutely no right to be loitering in a spot of such enchantment. He blamed t

rl's laughter had changed to s

th gold brocade and an ancient boat and such a ferryman. He had evoked romance and mystery with the

our pardon

?" The girl s

her with the frank charm of a boy begging her to like him, "f

in her skin deepened.

e was to recognize in that eager gallantry the finest of tact. "It's a de

had tumbled fr

brow c

horn blew lately I th

eautiful, ingenuous and wholly sincere. Dumfound

ce of delight. But I like it diffused. A bit more

rom the pocket of her gown and held it out to him. He read the address with

riting wa

of Mike!" said

id Joan. "It makes e

y ob

Miss

his own respectability as a suitable friend for your truant brother and fix his id

state of all men who love him and pass on cheerfully to a pleasant task. All that Brian has said of his father is true. As for Brian himself, he's a lovable, hot-heade

they're apart and more trouble when they're together than any two men I have ever known. Personally I think they're miserable apart and hopeless

Pullman, though he distinctly said not. He hopes to find at your farm a letter from your brother that will furnish a clue. Whereupon, I take it, he'll rove forth again to s

of the pair of them quarreling all over the state of Pennsylvania. In view of a certain sentimental indiscretion o

tle safer with Brian than he would be anyw

ritten just after he had acquired one of the medals th

nce

Ritte

catching enough to gratify and upset him. The letter, reminiscent of his penitential quest for Brian, roused voices that he did not want to hear. Nor did he hear them for long. Jo

ave been expected. The article he saw at a glance was an excellent one and truthful. He particularly liked the phrase "brilliant painter

clipping in his hand, had a pi

thing we call a 'blurb,'

l, her eyes wide and direct, "wh

ur and felt better. Peredur had gone in quest of the Holy Grail. And he had found fair ladies. History, rom

dent Kenny laughed sof

hat there never was a fool who hadn't another fool to admire him! Trouble is," he a

e your son. I cried a great deal the first night but the next day

in time. The mere sight of him had certified Brian'

e was to it! And he must do some thinking afterward, some painful thinking of the kind that drove him mad. He wondered for a moment, with his fingers by force of habit travelin

rmoil Kenny to

u've heard from

e girl sadly.

me all at once amazingly clear. And Kennicott O'Neill was no man to shirk a duty, let John

footsore, weary miles always with

. "It would have been wonderful if I could ha

a vague air of enthusiasm. But he

will y

id Kenny firmly, "and sta

is no

I shall camp here under the willow,

ghter and glanced wistfully across the river at

d, old ramshackle inn, quaint and archaic like the pu

de no pretense of misund

y with an air of inspiration

her gown. Kenny wondered why. He found her distress

e is large. Rooms and rooms of it. And only Uncle and I, save Hughie and

is knapsack and sta

rself what Garry said about work. Honestly, Miss West, I ought to wo

delight. When the girl did not answer he turned

ound and grave with astonishment, "ho

g and vivid for anybody's father. Their eyes met in new and difficult

e thing across. The announcement brought

she exclaimed. "The river is full

an's union." He dropped his knapsack into the boat and busied himself with the painter. "If the boat ha

an sensibly, "than two oars

here, waiting, one hand upon the

flapping in the wind, was gold like the afterglow behind the gables and the soft, haunting shadows in the girl's ey

head in the clouds rushed on to his doom. The punt was a fairy boat sailing him over a silver river to Hy Brazil, the Isle of Delight. A

he present and the present for him shone in the soft brown eyes of the ferryman in the stern. Past and future he shrugged to the winds. For he was sailing across to ro

ng across to romance, he ho

, nodding, "where the river be

river ran, already there was shadow. Twilight and afterglow! Kenny in poetic vein told of the Gray Man of the Path. The Path was in Ireland, a fissure in the cliff at Fairhead. If you climb

is the spirit of the mists of Benmore. But t

ed, quick to

id, "his path is the r

Twilight was stealing

path. It wound steeply upward among the trees, with here and there a r

nothing further for his utter undoing. And if she did,

n. He had forgotten the girl's name but it began with an "I." Now in the dusk he faced gnarled and glimmering boughs of fleece. The wind, fitful and chill since the sunset, sp

f the romance in the orchard. She was intent upon a man coming d

ched for you too since the letter

, middle-aged and unpoetic for

ll. He must have some supper. Tell Han

the supper hour. Beyond in a huge, old-fashioned kitchen, yellow with lamp light, Hughie's daughter, a ruddy-cheeked girl plump and wholesome as an apple, was washing dishes. Kenny liked her. He liked the s

slave. He begged to

s if he had liked Hannah for a very long time. And Hannah's best lamp was on the table. There was a pleasant undercurrent o

gown in the doorway,

ce. "I've a message from Uncle Adam. He understands about your so

-yellow shadows, Kenny wished that a number of people who had never troubled to be just and call him considerate could hear what she said. Thank Heaven his self-respect was returning. These simple people were splendidly intuitional. They understood. An agreeable wave o

ter sleep wherever Hannah says. And then

t knickerbockers and a satin coat. The thought of his knapsack wardrobe filled him with discontent. Hum! To-morro

rm. It covered three typewritten pages and read like

y st

e groaned. "The

e postmark had been harmless. It had served no other purpose than to lea

e wealth of detail. "My white flannels. Have cleaned. No plac

st invade the O'Neill studio, excavate and pack, Sid could help and Mac and Jan. Waiting, he read the telegram again. With Kenny's usual

ked. "He wants work so he can fill h