Jim looked up and endeavored to catch her eye, but no use. When she saw how pitiful he looked she burst out laughing and walked away with her chin way up high, then came back with a smile, bade him good-night, and she was gone.
Jim was in trouble. Mrs. Felker was delirious with grief. Little Juda, the sunshine of the home, was gone, and Winnie had told him plainly he must abandon all serious thoughts. He lay awake way into the night and formed his plans thus: "I will not go over to Richardsons in the morning, nor the next day nor the next, and perhaps never. I will take my axe and go up among the old hickory trees and work from sun to sun and try to banish little Juda from my mind, and also try to forget what a fool I am; fool—fool—of course I am, tossing around here all night over a girl that does not care for me. The idea of my consulting with her father over a cabbage patch. I think Jim Hall is not quite dead gone yet—no, I will not show my face there again very soon, of course not. Now I will turn over and go to sleep." But poor Jim, like many others, would like to forget his Winnie, but could not. Winnie had won his heart. She had come to stay.
Morning came and as the sun banished the dew from the grass, so daylight had upset all of Jim's plans concerning the hickory logs. He did not want to see Winnie in particular—no, but then he must not treat Mr. Richardson shabbily because Winnie had misused him. "Oh, I'll go over, of course I will, and visit the old folks, and if I see her I will pass the time of day to her—that is all."
GOOD MORNING, MISS RICHARDSON!
He found the old gent out feeding pigs and soon they were engaged in a friendly conversation. When they turned into the house, Aunt Mary came briskly forward to greet him and asked many questions concerning his long hunt for Juda among the Indians, which he could have answered more sensibly had he not been expecting Winnie. Of course, he was not anxious to see her, but he wondered where she was.
"Jim," said Mr. Richardson, "you will find plenty of those early apples down in the orchard if you care for them." So Mr. Hall started through the orchard and came spat upon Winnie by the wild rose bush, on the orchard wall.
"Good morning, Miss Richardson," he said, as he extended his hand in a cold businesslike manner.