And then Midget felt more kisses on her forehead, and a hearty pat on her back, as a voice, not quite steady, but determinedly cheerful, said:  “Brace up now, Mehitabel, we want you to go riding with us.”

Marjorie looked up, with a sudden smile, and then again buried her face on her father’s shoulder and almost strangled him as she flung her arms round his neck.  Then she drew his head down, while she whispered faintly in his ear.  Three times she had to repeat the words before he could catch them: 

“Are you my father?” he heard at last.  The fear flashed back upon him that Midget’s mind was affected, but he only held her close to him, and said, gently, “Yes, Marjorie darling, my own little girl,” and the quiet assurance of his tone seemed to content her.

“Wal, wal! an’ who be you, sir?” exclaimed a gruff voice, and Mr. Maynard looked up to see Zeb Geary approaching from the barn.

“You are Mr. Geary, I’m sure,” said Cousin Jack, advancing; “we have come for this little girl.”

“Wal, I’m right down glad on’t!  I jest knew that purty child had a home and friends, though she vowed she hadn’t.”

“And you’ve been kind to her, and we want to thank you!  And this is Mrs. Geary?”

“Yep, that’s Sary.  Come out here, Mother, and see what’s goin’ on.”

Out of shyness, Mrs. Geary had watched proceedings from the kitchen window, but fortified by her husband’s presence, she appeared in the doorway.

“They’ve been so good to me, Father,” said Marjorie, still nestling in his sheltering arms.

“Wal, we jest done what we could,” said Mrs. Geary.  “I knowed that Jessiky belonged to fine people, but she didn’t want to tell us nothin’, so we didn’t pester her.”

“And we ain’t askin’ nothin’ from you, neither,” spoke up Zeb.  “She’s a sweet, purty child, an’ as good as they make ’em.  An’ when she wants to tell you all about it, she will.  As fer us,—­we’ve no call to know.”

“Now, that’s well said!” exclaimed Mr. Bryant, holding out his hand to the old man.  “And, for the present, we’re going to take you at your word.  If you agree, we’re going to take this little girl right off with us, because her mother is anxiously awaiting news of her safety.  And perhaps, sometime later, we’ll explain matters fully to you.  Meantime, I hope you’ll permit us to leave with you a little expression of our appreciation of your real kindness to our darling, and our gratitude at her recovery.”

A few whispered words passed between the two gentlemen, and then, after a moment’s manipulation of his fountain pen and checkbook, Mr. Bryant handed to old Zeb Geary a slip of paper that took his breath away.

“I can’t rightly thank you, sir,” he said, brokenly; “I done no more’n my duty; but if so be’s you feel to give me this, I kin only say, Bless ye fer yer goodness to them that has need!”

“That’s all right, Mr. Geary,” said Cousin Jack, touched by the old man’s emotion; “and now, Ed, let’s be going.”