the next day, and the next. When they are all gone, I can spend every minute gathering cocoons, and hunting other things I can sell. Oh, thank God, for my precious, precious money. Why, I didn't pray in vain after all! I thought when I asked the Lord to hide me, there in that big hall, that He wasn't doing it, because I wasn't covered from sight that instant. But I'm hidden now, I feel that.” Elnora lifted her eyes to the beams above her. “I don't know much about praying properly,” she muttered, “but I do thank you, Lord, for hiding me in your own time and way.”
Her face was so bright that it shone with a white radiance. Two big tears welled from her eyes, and rolled down her smiling cheeks. “Oh, I do feel that you have hidden me,” she breathed. Then she blew out the lights, and the little wooden bed creaked under her weight.
Pete Corson dropped from the limb and found his way to the road. He stood still a long time, then started back to the Limberlost. A tiny point of light flashed in the region of the case. He stopped with an oath.
“Another hound trying to steal from a girl,” he exclaimed. “But it's likely he thinks if he gets anything it will be from a woman who can afford it, as I did.”
He went on, but beside the fences, and very cautiously.
“Swamp seems to be alive to-night,” he muttered. “That's three of us out.”
He entered a deep place at the northwest corner, sat on the ground and taking a pencil from his pocket, he tore a leaf from a little notebook, and laboriously wrote a few lines by the light he carried. Then he went back to the region of the case and waited. Before his eyes swept the vision of the slender white creature with tossing hair. He smiled, and worshipped it, until a distant rooster faintly announced dawn.
Then he unlocked the case again, and replaced the money, laid the note upon it, and went back to concealment, where he remained until Elnora came down the trail in the morning, appearing very lovely in her new dress and hat.
CHAPTER V
WHEREIN ELNORA RECEIVES A WARNING, AND BILLY APPEARS ON THE SCENE
It would be difficult to describe how happy Elnora was that morning as she hurried through her work, bathed and put on the neat, dainty gingham dress, and the tan shoes. She had a struggle with her hair. It crinkled, billowed, and shone, and she could not avoid seeing the becoming frame it made around her face. But in deference to her mother's feelings the girl set her teeth, and bound her hair closely to her head with a shoe-string. “Not to be changed at the case,” she told herself.
That her mother was watching she was unaware. Just as she picked up the beautiful brown ribbon Mrs. Comstock spoke.
“You had better let me tie that. You can't reach behind yourself and do it right.”
Elnora gave a little gasp. Her mother never before had proposed to do anything for the girl that by any possibility she could do herself. Her heart quaked at the thought of how her mother would arrange that bow, but Elnora dared not refuse. The offer was too precious. It might never be made again.
“Oh thank you!” said the girl, and sitting down she held out the ribbon.
Her mother stood back and looked at her critically.
“You haven't got that like Mag Sinton had it last night,” she announced. “You little idiot! You've tried to plaster it down to suit me, and you missed it. I liked it away better as Mag fixed it, after I saw it. You didn't look so peeled.”
“Oh mother, mother!” laughed Elnora, with a half sob in her voice.
“Hold still, will you?” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You'll be late, and I haven't packed your dinner yet.”
She untied the string and shook out the hair. It rose with electricity and clung to her fingers and hands. Mrs. Comstock jumped back as if bitten. She knew that touch. Her face grew white, and her eyes angry.
“Tie it yourself,” she said shortly, “and then I'll put on the ribbon. But roll it back loose like Mag did. It looked so pretty that way.”
Almost fainting Elnora stood before the glass, divided off the front parts of her hair, and rolled them as Mrs. Sinton had done; tied it at the nape of her neck, then sat while her mother arranged the ribbon.
“If I pull it down till it comes tight in these creases where she had it, it will be just right, won't it?” queried Mrs. Comstock, and the amazed Elnora stammered,
“Yes.”
When she looked in the glass the bow was perfectly tied, and how the gold tone of the brown did match the lustre of the shining hair! “That's pretty,” commented Mrs. Comstock's soul, but her stiff lips had said all that could be forced from them for once. Just then Wesley Sinton came to the door.
“Good morning,” he cried heartily. “Elnora, you look a picture! My, but you're sweet! If any of the city boys get sassy you tell your Uncle Wesley, and he'll horsewhip them. Here's your Christmas present from me.” He handed Elnora the leather lunch box, with her name carved across the strap in artistic lettering.
“Oh Uncle Wesley!” was all Elnora could say.
“Your Aunt Maggie filled it for me for a starter,” he said. “Now, if you are ready, I'm going to drive past your way and you can ride almost to Onabasha with me, and save the new shoes that much.”
Elnora was staring at the box. “Oh I hope it isn't impolite to open it before you,” she said. “I just feel as if I must see inside.”
“Don't you stand on formality with the neighbours,” laughed Sinton. “Look in your box if you want to!”
Elnora slipped the strap and turned back the lid.
This disclosed the knife, fork, napkin, and spoon, the milk flask, and the interior packed with dainty sandwiches wrapped in tissue paper, and the little compartments for meat, salad, and the custard cup.
“Oh mother!” cried Elnora. “Oh mother, isn't it fine? What made you think of it, Uncle Wesley? How will I ever thank you? No one will have a finer lunch box than I. Oh I do thank you! That's the nicest gift I ever had. How I love Christmas in September!”
“It's a mighty handy thing,” assented Mrs. Comstock, taking in every detail with sharp eyes. “I guess you are glad now you went and helped Mag and Wesley when you could, Elnora?”
“Deedy, yes,” laughed Elnora, “and I'm going again first time they have a big day if I stay from school to do it.”
“You'll do no such thing!” said the delighted Sinton. “Come now, if you're going!”
“If I ride, can you spare me time to run into the swamp to my box a minute?” asked Elnora.
The light she had seen the previous night troubled her.
“Sure,” said Wesley largely. So they drove away and left a white-faced woman watching them from the door, her heart a little sorer than usual.
“I'd give a pretty to hear what he'll say to her!” she commented bitterly. “Always sticking in, always doing things I can't ever afford. Where on earth did he get that thing and what did it cost?”
Then she entered the cabin and began the day's work, but mingled with the brooding bitterness of her soul was the vision of a sweet young face, glad with a gladness never before seen on it, and over and over she repeated: “I wonder what he'll say to her!”
What he said was that she looked as fresh and sweet as a posy, and to be careful not to step in the mud or scratch her shoes when she went to the case.
Elnora found her key and opened the door. Not where she had placed it, but conspicuously in front lay her little heap of bills, and a crude scrawl of writing beside it. Elnora picked up the note in astonishment.
DERE