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CHAPTER I. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. "Hoddy, Hoddy!… No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair. " It occurred to the spinster to ask: "Have you ever seen a fashion magazine?" "No. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. Her eyes still had the fevered glow of sickness, yet she seemed in perfect health. You're Mister Wild's pris'ner, and worse luck to it!" "I don't ask you to liberate me," urged Thames; "but will you convey a message for me?" "Where to, honey?" "To Mr.
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