"We mustn't talk of that, Mike," Charles broke in, huskily. "I don't allow myself to think of the impossible. How are you going to Carlin?"
"Afoot, sir. I like it. I can easily make my train to-night. Well, sir, you will have to be going in and I'll say good-by, Mr. Charles."
"Good-by, Mike. Your coming has been a great help to me."
Tears suddenly filled the servant's eyes, and, turning swiftly, he walked back toward the thicket and disappeared.
As he neared the house Charles saw Mary coming from the barn. Her head was cast down and she was moving slowly. They met near the kitchen door.
"I've just left them," she said, in a voice full of joyful emotion. "Oh, I can't describe all that took place. They have both been in abject despair night and day since Tobe was taken away, and when I told them the news they—I can't describe it. The joy seemed to bewilder them, stupefy them. Kenneth sat still on the horse-trough—I couldn't see his face in the dark, but I heard him catch his breath, and when he tried to speak he choked up. And Martin—he came to me and put his head on my breast and cried like the child he really is at times. Oh, Charlie, life is wonderful! I am in heaven to-night, and my reason tells me that I never could have reached it in any other way than through what I've suffered and your help. Yes, you—you did it. But for your money all would have been lost."
"You forget that you yourself would have paid it if I had not," Charles argued, "or rather, it would have been paid by—"
"No, there's where you are wrong," Mary protested. "My father tells me that the bank would not have cashed Albert's check that day. He has met with great losses in some enterprises, and is on the verge of bankruptcy. No, if it hadn't been for you all would have been lost. When your friend said just now that you were always doing kind deeds he said only what I already knew to be the truth. You are the most unselfish man I ever knew. Is it any wonder that I—" She did not finish, but suddenly turned and left him.