In his memory he saw Jake Dolan, who had followed the trail where it led to Carnine's farm, come stumbling into the farm-house Tuesday where they were hidden, and John, in memory, heard Jake whisper that he had left his dog with the rescuing party to lead the rescuers to him if he was on the right trail and did not return.
And then as Barclay's mind went back to the long Tuesday, when he should have been at the Ridge to sign the tax levy, the headlight flashed out of the tunnel.

But these were fading pictures.

The one image that was in his mind--clear through all the years--was of a wood and a tree,--a great, spreading, low-boughed elm, near Carnine's house where the young people were held prisoners, and Jane Mason sitting with her back against the tree, and lying on the dry grass at her feet his own slight figure; sometimes he was looking up at her over his brow, and sometimes his head rested on the roots of the tree beside her, and she looked down at him and they talked, and no one was near.

For through youth into middle life, and into the dawn of old age, That Day was marked in his life.

The day of the month--he forgot which it was.