Amanda Reist knew the woods so well that she never felt any fear as she
wandered about in them. That August morning as she climbed the fence by
the school-yard and sauntered along the narrow paths between the trees
she hummed a little song--not because of any particular happiness, but
because the sky was blue and the woods were green and she loved to be
outdoors.
She climbed the narrow trail, gathering early goldenrod, which she
suddenly dropped, and stood still. Before her, a distance of about
twenty feet, lay the figure of a man, face down on the ground, his arms
flung out, his hair disheveled. A great fear rose in her heart. Was it
a tramp, an intoxicated wanderer, was he dead? She shrank from the
sight and took a few backward steps, feeling a strong impulse to run,
yet held riveted to the spot by some inexplicable, irresistible force.
The figure moved slightly--why, it looked like Martin Landis! But he
wouldn't be lying so in the grass at that time of day! The face of the
man was suddenly turned to her and a cry came from her lips--it
_was_ Martin Landis! But what a Martin Landis! Haggard and lined,
his face looked like the face of a debilitated old man.
"Martin," she called, anxiously. "Martin!"
He raised his head and leaned on his elbow. "Oh," he groaned, then
turned his head away.
She ran to him then and knelt beside him in the grass. "What's wrong,
Martin?" she asked, all the love in her heart rushing to meet the need
of her "knight." "Tell me what's the matter."
"They say I'm a thief!"
"Who says so?" she demanded, a Xantippe-like flash in her eyes.
"The bank, they're examining the books, swooped down like a lot of
vultures and hunting for carrion right now."
"For goodness' sake! Martin! Sit up and tell me about it! Don't cover
your face as though you _were_ a thief! Of course there's some
mistake, there must be! Get up, tell me. Let's sit over on that old log
and get it straightened out."
Spurred by her words he raised himself and she mechanically brushed the
dry leaves from his coat as they walked to a fallen log and sat down.
"Now tell me," she urged, "the whole story."
Haltingly he told the tale, though the process hurt.
"And you ran away," she exclaimed when he had finished. "You didn't
wait to see what the books revealed? You ran right out here?"
"Yes--no, I stopped at Isabel's."
"Oh"--Amanda closed her eyes a moment--it had been Isabel first again!
She quickly composed herself to hear what the city girl had done in the
man's hour of trial. "Isabel didn't believe it, of course?" she asked
quietly.