"YOU'RE WANTED--YOU'RE WANTED!" It was Saturday night, and the end of David's third day at the farmhouse.

Upstairs, in the hot little room over the kitchen, the boy knelt at the window and tried to find a breath of cool air from the hills.

Downstairs on the porch Simeon Holly and his wife discussed the events of the past few days, and talked of what should be done with David.
"But what shall we do with him ?" moaned Mrs.Holly at last, breaking a long silence that had fallen between them.

"What can we do with him?
Doesn't anybody want him ?" "No, of course, nobody wants him," retorted her husband relentlessly.
And at the words a small figure in a yellow-white nightshirt stopped short.

David, violin in hand, had fled from the little hot room, and stood now just inside the kitchen door.
"Who can want a child that has been brought up in that heathenish fashion ?" continued Simeon Holly.