“Ye’ll be keerful, Gran’pap,” Plutina exclaimed anxiously, as she stood up.
“Now, don’t ye worrit none,” Uncle Dick ordered, tartly. His usual rather dictatorial manner in the household returned to him. “You-all run along. I want to think.”
The girl went obediently. The reaction from despair brought joyousness. Of a sudden, she became aware of the blending perfumes of the wild flowers and the lilting of an amorous thrush in the wood. Her lids narrowed to dreamy contemplation of the green-and-gold traceries on the ground, where the sunlight fell dappled through screening foliage. Fear was fled from her. Her thought flew to Zeke, in longing as always, but now in a longing made happy with hopes. There might be a letter awaiting her from New York—perhaps even with a word of promise for his return. She smiled, radiant with fond anticipations. Then, after a word of explanation to Alvira, she set off at a brisk pace over the trail toward Cherry Lane.
The girl went blithely on her way, day-dreaming of the time when Zeke should be come home to her again. She stopped at the Widow Higgins’ cabin, to receive felicitations over the escape of Uncle
Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick.
“WHEN ZEKE COMES HOME AGAIN.”
Dick from Fanny Brown. Plutina was not minded to harass the older woman with the tale of Dan Hodges. The outlaw’s threats against Zeke would only fill the mother’s heart with fears, against which she could make no defense. Otherwise, however, the tongues of the two ran busily concerning the absent one. And then, soon, Plutina was again hurrying over the trail, which the bordering wild flowers made dainty as a garden walk. Once, her eyes turned southward, to the gloomy grandeur of Stone Mountain, looming vast and portentous. The blur of shadow that marked the Devil’s Cauldron touched her to an instant of foreboding, but the elation of mood persisted. She raised her hand, and the fingers caressed the bag in which was the fairy crystal, and she went gaily forward, smiling.