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“
I
wonder
if
that
other
egg
is
going
to
hatch
?
”
mused
the
Bird
Woman
.
“
I
am
afraid
not
.
It
should
have
pipped
today
.
Isn
’
t
it
a
beauty
!
I
never
before
saw
either
an
egg
or
the
young
.
They
are
rare
this
far
north
.
”
“
So
Mr
.
McLean
said
,
”
answered
Freckles
.
Before
they
drove
away
,
the
Bird
Woman
thanked
him
for
his
kindness
to
the
Angel
and
to
her
.
She
gave
him
her
hand
at
parting
,
and
Freckles
joyfully
realized
that
this
was
going
to
be
another
person
for
him
to
love
.
He
could
not
remember
,
after
they
had
driven
away
,
that
they
even
had
noticed
his
missing
hand
,
and
for
the
first
time
in
his
life
he
had
forgotten
it
.
When
the
Bird
Woman
and
the
Angel
were
on
the
home
road
,
she
told
of
the
little
corner
of
paradise
into
which
she
had
strayed
and
of
her
new
name
.
The
Bird
Woman
looked
at
the
girl
and
guessed
its
appropriateness
.
“
Did
you
know
Mr
.
McLean
had
a
son
?
”
asked
the
Angel
.
“
Isn
’
t
the
little
accent
he
has
,
and
the
way
he
twists
a
sentence
,
too
dear
?
And
isn
’
t
it
too
old
-
fashioned
and
funny
to
hear
him
call
his
father
’
mister
’
?
”
“
It
sounds
too
good
to
be
true
,
”
said
the
Bird
Woman
,
answering
the
last
question
first
.
“
I
am
so
tired
of
these
present
-
day
young
men
who
patronizingly
call
their
fathers
’
Dad
,
’
’
Governor
,
’
’
Old
Man
’
and
’
Old
Chap
,
’
that
the
boy
’
s
attitude
of
respect
and
deference
appealed
to
me
as
being
fine
as
silk
.
There
must
be
something
rare
about
that
young
man
.
”
She
did
not
find
it
necessary
to
tell
the
Angel
that
for
several
years
she
had
known
the
man
who
so
proudly
proclaimed
himself
Freckles
’
father
to
be
a
bachelor
and
a
Scotchman
.
The
Bird
Woman
had
a
fine
way
of
attending
strictly
to
her
own
business
.
Freckles
turned
to
the
trail
,
but
he
stopped
at
every
wild
brier
to
study
the
pink
satin
of
the
petals
.
She
was
not
of
his
world
,
and
better
than
any
other
he
knew
it
;
but
she
might
be
his
Angel
,
and
he
was
dreaming
of
naught
but
blind
,
silent
worship
.
He
finished
the
happiest
day
of
his
life
,
and
that
night
he
returned
to
the
swamp
as
if
drawn
by
invisible
force
.
That
Wessner
would
try
for
his
revenge
,
he
knew
.
That
he
would
be
abetted
by
Black
Jack
was
almost
certain
,
but
fear
had
fled
the
happy
heart
of
Freckles
.
He
had
kept
his
trust
.
He
had
won
the
respect
of
the
Boss
.
No
one
ever
could
wipe
from
his
heart
the
flood
of
holy
adoration
that
had
welled
with
the
coming
of
his
Angel
.
He
would
do
his
best
,
and
trust
for
strength
to
meet
the
dark
day
of
reckoning
that
he
knew
would
come
sooner
or
later
.
He
swung
round
the
trail
,
briskly
tapping
the
wire
,
and
singing
in
a
voice
that
scarcely
could
have
been
surpassed
for
sweetness
.
