While Barnabas made his usual rounds of the groceries, meatmarket, drug store, mill, feed store, general store, and a hotel where he was well known, David was free to go where he liked. Usually he accompanied Barnabas, but to-day he walked slowly up the principal business street, watching for “one who needed flowers.” Many glances were bestowed upon the roses, some admiring, some careless, and then––his heart almost stopped beating at the significance––Judge Thorne came by. He, too, 78 glanced at the roses. His gaze lingered, and a look came into his eyes that stimulated David’s passion for romance.
“He’s remembering,” he thought joyfully.
He didn’t hesitate even an instant. He stopped in front of the Judge and extended the flowers.
“Would you like these roses, Judge Thorne?” he asked courteously.
Then for the first time the Judge’s attention was diverted from the flowers.
“Your face is familiar, my lad, but––”
“My name is David Dunne.”
“Yes, to be sure, but it must be four years or more since I last saw you. How’s your mother getting along?”
The boy’s face paled.
“She died three weeks ago,” he answered.