Taffy kept his eyes sullenly on the ground. Finding that he would
not answer, she turned her horse again and rode slowly after the
others. Taffy heard the soft footfalls die away, and when he looked
up she had vanished.

He picked up his boots and started in the direction to which she had
pointed. Every now and then a sob shook him. By-and-by the chimneys
of the house hove in sight among the ridges, and he ran toward it.
But within a gunshot of the white garden-wall his breast swelled
suddenly and he flung himself on the ground and let the big tears
run. They made little pits in the moving sand; and more sand drifted
up and covered them.

"Taffy! Taffy! Whatever has become of the child?"

His mother was standing by the gate in her print frock. He scrambled
up and ran toward her. She cried out at the sight of him, but he hid
his blood-smeared face against her skirts.

[1] Mattock.



CHAPTER V.


TAFFY RINGS THE CHURCH BELL.

They were in the church--Squire Moyle, Mr. Raymond, and Taffy close