Then the colonel broke out, "May the Lord, who heedeth the sparrow's fall and protects all us poor blundering children, bless you, John Barclay--bless you and all your household." There were tears in his eyes as he waved a grand adieu at the door, and he whistled "Gayly the Troubadour" as he tripped lightly down the stairs.

And in another moment the large white plumes were dancing in his eyes again.

This time they waved and beckoned toward a subscription paper which the colonel had just drawn up when the annoying letter came from Chicago, reminding him of his debt.

The paper was for the relief of a farmer whose house and stock had been burned.

The colonel brought from his hip pocket the carefully folded sheet of foolscap which he had put away when duty called him to Barclay.