"Do you want to go?" she demanded.
"No, oh, never; but it would save you trouble, and I have no right to bring that on you," he cried, hastily, and with emotion.
"Then I say you shan't go away, not for a dozen Jim Dilks. You belong here now. I've done what I said I never would do, given away my Joey's things, and you're my boy, I say. I won't let you go away! This is your home as long as you want to stay. Let me catch that Jim Dilks trying to chase you off, that's all."
Darry could not trust his voice to say one word, only caught up her work-stained hand and pressed it to his lips, then fled from the house.
And yet as Darry stood out under the old oak that shielded the cottage from the burning sun in summer, and the biting winds of the "northers" in winter, looking up at the first bright evening star that peeped into view, he felt a happiness deep down in his boyish heart that could not be excelled by a prince of the royal blood coming into his palace home.
He was merry all evening, and the twins romped as they had not done for many a day, in fact, ever since their brother had left them.
The mother looked on in silent approval, thinking that once more home seemed to have a brightness about it that had been long lacking.
When all had retired save Darry he sat by the fire thinking.
Somehow he could not forget that skulking figure he had seen leaving the vicinity of the cabin at dusk, and he would have given much to have known just what mission brought the vindictive Jim out there.
The bully's home was in the village, and he had no business so far away, unless bent on an errand that would not bear the light of day.