FOUNDER OF HIS RACE loi 



tional Vermont "beech seal" to her sons — and he would 

 not deny they needed it ; and he had seen her dash scald- 

 ing water on a prowling Indian ; he guessed Robert 

 Evans' greeting, when they reached home, would not be 

 an affectionate one. 



On the way back to Randolph, Evans was in a temper 

 and swore grievously. Morgan had caught a cold and 

 coughed constantly. The journey was withal a trying 

 one; 'twas not to be wondered at that the horse's memo- 

 ries of Boston were neither beautiful nor gay, and that 

 he never had a desire to repeat his trip. 



It was dark when they reached home, but Mistress 

 Evans, who had been on the lookout, threw open the 

 kitchen door as they entered the gate, and the barn- 

 yard was flooded with the warm glow of the firelight 

 from within. Her head was tied up in a fustian square 

 and a fur was thrown over her shoulders. She ran out 

 to greet them, a lanthorn in her hand. 



''Welcome, home. Husband, dear!" she cried, cheerily. 

 "Give me the purchases. I would see my calico frock 

 without delay. Yes, and get to work on it, for 'tis no 

 short task to stitch those long seams — with chores -to do 

 besides !" 



She held out her hand eagerly. 



"Go into the house directly, Wife, out of the cold !" 

 evaded Evans, taking the lanthorn from her. "I will 

 be in presently — when I have bedded down the Morgan," 

 he added. 



And she, being an obedient, womanly and faithful wife, 

 suspecting nothing, went in to .sing over the final prepa- 

 rations of supper. 



In spite of the cold and fatigue of his owner, Morgan 

 never got a better rubbing-down nor a finer meal. 



'"Well, Morgan," Evans murmured, at last, "I guess 

 I can't put it off any longer." 



