" "But I've got to go!" insisted Rollo, in perfectly understandable dog-talk. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. ‘Champion?’ ‘The lad you saw following her. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. Actually, he had come all this distance simply to fulfil a certain clause in his contract with Fate, to be in Canton on this particular day. McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth.
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