There he laughed as never before in his life.

Finally he controlled himself and started toward the cabin; but he was chuckling as he passed the driveway, and walked down the broad cement floor leading to his bathing pool, where the moonlight bridged the lake, and fell as a benediction all around him.
He stood a long time, when he recognized the familiar crash of a breaking backlog falling together, and heard the customary leap of the frightened dog.

He walked to his door and listened intently, but there was no sound; so he decided the Girl had not been awakened.

In the midst of a whitening sheet of gold the Harvester dropped to his stoop and leaned his head against the broad casing.

He broke a twig from a hawthorn bush beside him, and sat twisting it in his fingers as he stared down the line of the gold bridge.