overalls, too long in the legs and frayed at the bottoms.

I paused, laughed at myself, and almost abandoned the chase. But the
haunting familiarity of those shoulders and that silver hair! Again
I hurried on. As I passed him, I shot a keen look at his face; then I
whirled around abruptly and confronted--the Bishop.

He halted with equal abruptness, and gasped. A large paper bag in his
right hand fell to the sidewalk. It burst, and about his feet and mine
bounced and rolled a flood of potatoes. He looked at me with surprise
and alarm, then he seemed to wilt away; the shoulders drooped with
dejection, and he uttered a deep sigh.

I held out my hand. He shook it, but his hand felt clammy. He cleared
his throat in embarrassment, and I could see the sweat starting out on
his forehead. It was evident that he was badly frightened.

"The potatoes," he murmured faintly. "They are precious."

Between us we picked them up and replaced them in the broken bag, which
he now held carefully in the hollow of his arm. I tried to tell him my
gladness at meeting him and that he must come right home with me.

"Father will be rejoiced to see you," I said. "We live only a stone's
throw away.

"I can't," he said, "I must be going. Good-by."

He looked apprehensively about him, as though dreading discovery, and
made an attempt to walk on.