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rn]|5I K5g^H [51 #. D J 
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(412) 
back gate to the steps. William and Roger 
listened respectfully to their uncle’s cau- 
tionings. Wyeth meantime had up-ended 
the back-log, tried the girth of it with arm- 
clasps, and stood beside it faintly stooped. 
Like a shot he bent, heaved mightily, and 
brought it clear of the ground. His 
brothers sprang to his help — in a trice they 
had it balanced upon his shoulder, and 
were walking beside him toward the hall. 
Joy fought in them with fear — joy in the 
lad’s strength, fear that he might over¬ 
strain it. The Major was serene. This 
boy of his heart was steady-—he wouldn’t 
undertake what was beyond him. The 
older man thrilled to see the youth who 
would come after him at Grassways, show 
so finely, so fully, the might of a man. 
When the coals had been duly raked 
forward, the back-log put in place, flat on 
the hearth-stone, and irons set straight, 
and small logs piled on them, the Major 
patted his boy’s arm, saying joyously: 
“Better than being a football star — eh, 
son? Football’s all right — anything is all 
right that helps to make real men.” 
Outside, a motor burred loudly — there 
was a general cry: “The Waltons!” a gen¬ 
eral welcoming rush. Amazement checked 
it on the threshold — Joe-Billy was driv¬ 
ing, and Anna sat beside him, holding 
something in her lap. Behind the big car 
was cram-full of boxes, of curiously 
shaped parcels, most carefully wrapped 
and tied. Luggage proper was invisible if 
present. Anna, laughing at their amaze¬ 
ment, called to William: “Don’t stare so 
hard — this only means Jack!” 
“Jack? Who’s been carving him up in 
such shapes? Bum job — I say,” William 
flung back. Wyeth was lifting Anna’s bur¬ 
den with one hand, with the other steady¬ 
ing her exit from the car. Joe-Billy 
grinned encouragement, saying: “Good 
boy! All I can do to hold this untamed 
auto. Greenest chaufifeur ever — that’s 
what I am. But it was the understudy or 
nothing — Fritz is dead to life and things 
until after New Year.” 
“Stop gabbing. T want Nancy to show 
us - ” Anna began impatiently. “Oh, 
here’s the telegram — so ’fraid I’d lost it— 
we got another, of course—that’s why we 
came.” 
Nancy’s hand shook as she tore open the 
yellow envelope. Inside she read : “Flow¬ 
ers are not things Sister—instead they’re 
souls. I’m sending some to help you 
make Christmas — and ask — May I come, 
too ?” 
For the first time and the last, Nancy 
broke down. Jack, her prodigal half- 
brother twenty year's her junior, had been 
gone so long. To all entreaty he had 
answered: “I’ll come — when I have made 
good. Everybody knew that. As she stood 
sobbing and speechless, her husband’s arm 
about her, Roger rushed to the telephone. 
And exactly two hours later, John Mas¬ 
ters, of Chicago and New York, coolest 
and most daring of speculators, read with 
dimming eyes : “Don’t fail us ! Christmas 
won’t come really until you do.” 
