"It sounds," laughed Eve, "as though you were talking of a cereal coffee. Indeed, though, I don't want to know if you don't want me to."

"But I do! That is--sometime--"

"I understand; it's a guilty secret. But you were telling me about my cousin. When did he die, Mr. Herrick?"

"Last August. We'd both been working pretty hard and Ed was sort of run down, I reckon. He got typhoid and went quick. I got him to Pueblo as soon as I learned what the trouble was, but the doctor there said he never had a chance. We buried him in Pueblo."

Wade was looking down at his roughened hands and spoke so low that Eve had to bend forward a little to hear him.

"It--it was a pretty decent funeral," he added simply. "There were seven carriages."

"Really?" she murmured.

"Yes." He raised his head and looked at her a trifle wistfully. "You can't understand just what Ed's death meant to me, Miss Walton. You see, he was about the only real friend I ever had, the only fellow I ever got real close to. And he was such a thoroughbred, and--and was so darn--so mighty good to me! I tell you, it sort of knocked me out for awhile."

"I'm sorry I didn't know him," said Eve, softly. "I'm sure I'd have liked him as well as you did. And perhaps he'd have liked me."

"I'm sure of that," said Wade with conviction.

"I suppose he never spoke of me?"

"Only once, I think. Before he died he told me he had made a will and left me his share of the mine and everything else he had. I--oh, well, I didn't like it and said so. 'You'll have to take it,' he answered.

'There's no one else to leave it to; I've got no relatives left except an uncle and a cousin, and they have all the money they need. You see, he didn't know about--"

"I understand. And even had papa been alive he would have accepted nothing from Edward, I'm certain."

"But you--"

"Nor I."

"I'm sorry to hear you say that," said Wade, frowningly. "I've been thinking that perhaps--something might be done. There's so much money, Miss Walton, and it doesn't belong to me. Don't you think--"

"No." Eve shook her head gently, but decisively. "It's nice of you to want it, Mr. Herrick, but you mustn't think any more about it. Papa would never have allowed me to accept any of Cousin Edward's property if he had been alive, and I shan't do it now that he is dead. We won't speak about that any more, please. Tell me how you came to visit Eden Village. To see the house you'd inherited?"

"Yes. Ed wanted me to. He was very fond of this place and fond of the house. 'I'd rather you always kept it,' he told me. 'If the time ever comes when you have to sell it, all right; but until then see that it's looked after and kept up.' So this summer, when I found I was going to have a vacation--the first real one for six years, Miss Walton--I decided that the first thing I'd do would be to come here and look after Ed's place."

"Then yours is only a flying visit? I'm sorry."

"No, I think I shall stay some time," replied Wade. "I like it immensely. It's so different from where I've been. And, besides, the house needs looking after. I think I'll have it painted."

"Then you'll be sure to make mistakes," laughed Eve. "Or perhaps you'll paint it a different color from this?"

"No, I shan't; white it must be. Then, you see, I'll have every excuse for mistaking this house for my own."

"I hope you won't feel that you need an excuse to come here, Mr.

Herrick. We're not a ceremonious people here. We can't afford to be; neighbors are too scarce."

Wade thanked her and there was a moment's silence. Then Eve, who had been smilingly watching the players, turned with lowered voice.

"And sometimes when you come to see us, Mr. Herrick, won't you come through the gate in the hedge, please?"

"Certainly," he answered, looking a little puzzled.

"Does that sound queer?" she asked with a soft laugh. "I suppose it does. There was a time when the dwellers in your house and in mine used that gate in the hedge as my poor old grandfather meant they should.

Perhaps I have a fancy to see it used so again. Or perhaps that isn't the reason at all. You have your secret; we'll call this mine. Maybe some day we'll tell our secrets."

"Is that a promise?" he asked, eagerly.

She hesitated a moment. Then, "If you like," she answered, smiling across at him.

"Good! Then let us have it all shipshape, in contract form."

"Oh, you business men!"

"I hereby agree to tell you before I leave Eden Village the name of my mine, and you agree to tell me why--why--"

"Why you are to come to see us by way of the gate in the hedge. Agreed, signed, sealed, and delivered in the presence of Miss Caroline Mullett and Doctor Joseph Crimmins."

"Eh?" asked the Doctor. "What's that? I heard my name spoken, didn't I?"

"You did, Doctor, but quite respectfully," answered Eve.

"Respectfully!" grumbled the Doctor. "That's all age gets, just respect!

Thirty years ago, madam, you wouldn't have dared to respect me! I beg your pardon, Miss Mullett; you are right, it is my first count.

Fifteen-two, fifteen-four, fifteen-six, and a pair's eight and one's nine. And that puts me out!"

"Brute!" said Miss Mullett.

"Who won?" asked Eve.

"I, Miss Eve, but an empty victory since I have incurred this dear lady's displeasure," replied the Doctor, arising. "I had the misfortune to run out when she needed but one to win, an unpardonable crime in the game of cribbage, Mr. Herrick."

"I'm not sure we wouldn't hang you for that out our way, Doctor," said Wade, with a smile.

"Well, something ought to be done to him," grumbled Miss Mullett, closing the cribbage box with a snap.

"Madam, leave me to the reproaches of my conscience," advised the offender.

"Your conscience!" jeered Miss Mullett. "You haven't any. You're a doctor."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "STERN IN HER ANGER, MR. HERRICK, BUT OF AN AMIABLE AND FORGIVING DISPOSITION"]

"Mr. Herrick, let us be going, I pray.

"'From pole to pole the thunder roars aloud, And broken lightnings flash from ev'ry cloud.'

"Besides which, sir, it is close upon ten o'clock, I see, the bed-hour of our virtuous village. Miss Mullett, I shall pray for your forgiveness. Miss Eve, I trust you to say a good word for me. If the storm clears, do you hang a white handkerchief from the window there and I, going by, will see it and be comforted." The Doctor laid a hand on Wade's shoulder and, with a mischievous glance at Miss Mullett, whispered hoa.r.s.ely: "Stern in her anger, Mr. Herrick, but of an amiable and forgiving disposition."

"I'll forgive you when I've had my revenge," answered Miss Mullett, laughingly.