I remember that my uncle laughed at the jests of Mr. Hacket but said little and was not, I thought, in good spirits.  They went home before the examination ended.

The facts hereinbefore alleged, and others, were proven, for the tracks fitted the shoes of Amos.  The young man was held and presently indicted.  The time of his trial was not determined.

I received much attention from young and old in the village after that, for I found soon that I had acquired a reputation for bravery, of the slender foundation for which the reader is well aware.  I was invited to many parties, but had not much heart for them and went only to one at the home of Nettie Barrows.  Sally was there.  She came to me as if nothing had interrupted our friendship and asked if I would play Hunt the Squirrel with them.  Of course I was glad to make this treaty of peace, which was sealed with many kisses as we played together in those lively games of the old time.  I remember that I could think of nothing in this world with which to compare her beauty.  I asked if I could walk home with her and she said that she was engaged, and while she was as amiable as ever I came to know that night that a kind of wall had risen between us.

I wrote a good hand those days and the leading merchant of the village engaged me to post his books every Saturday at ten cents an hour.  Thenceforward until Christmas I gave my free days to that task.  I estimated the sum that I should earn and planned to divide it in equal parts and proudly present it to my aunt and uncle on Christmas day.

One Saturday while I was at work on the big ledger of the merchant I ran upon this item: 

October 3.  S. Wright—­To one suit of
clothes for Michael Henry
from measures furnished by
S. Robinson               $14.30
Shirts to match             1.70

I knew then the history of the suit of clothes which I had worn since that rainy October night, for I remembered that Sam Robinson, the tailor, had measured me at our house and made up the cloth of Aunt Deel’s weaving.

I observed, also, that numerous articles—­a load of wood, two sacks of flour, three pairs of boots, one coat, ten pounds of salt pork and four bushels of potatoes—­all for “Michael Henry” had been charged to Silas Wright.

So by the merest chance I learned that the invisible “Michael Henry” was the almoner of the modest statesman and really the spirit of Silas Wright feeding the hungry and clothing the naked and warming the cold house, in the absence of its owner.  It was the heart of Wright joined to that of the schoolmaster, which sat in the green chair.

I fear that my work suffered a moment’s interruption, for just then I began to know the great heart of the Senator.  Its warmth was in the clothing that covered my back, its delicacy in the ignorance of those who had shared its benefactions.