They sang together, the wind and rain, among the leaves, and the note that reached his heart, rather than his ear, thrilled him with courage and hope.

Once more the invisible voice that had upborne him in the great valley of the Ohio told him, even here in the ruined valley of Wyoming, that what was lost would be regained.

The chords ended, and the echoes, amazingly clear, floated far away in the darkness and rain.

Henry roused himself, and came from the imaginative borderland.

He stirred a little, and said in a quiet voice to Shif'less Sol: "Did you hear anything, Sol ?" "Nothin' but the wind an' the rain." Henry knew that such would be the answer.
"I guess you didn't hear anything either, Henry," continued the shiftless one, "'cause it looked to me that you wuz 'bout ez near sleep ez a feller could be without bein' ackshooally so." "I was drifting away," said Henry.
He was beginning to realize that he had a great power, or rather gift.
Paul was the sensitive, imaginative boy, seeing everything in brilliant colors, a great builder of castles, not all of air, but Henry's gift went deeper.