Nine by fourteen—say, all through the years I've remembered the measurements of that unlucky window pane! I even snooped around the old Sloan place before I came here. Bless me! If that shiftless old Jediah Sloan hasn't let that shed window stay out all of these years. I'm going over there now and set it. I'm finally able to obey you, dad. Surely that settles the score, hey?"
"You're the same quick-witted rascal you were as a boy, haven't you?" almost chuckled his father.
"Yes, call it quits," and taking out his pocket knife he slowly cut the leather strap into bits and threw them aside.
"I say, dad," broke in Eldred afresh, "how's Miriam?"
"Oh, she's grown to be a likely girl," responded the old man.
"Not married yet?"
"Oh, no; she don't seem to care anything for fellers."
A bland, satisfied smile covered the face of the returned wanderer. He tucked the package under his arm and crossed lots to the Sloan place, whistling thoughtfully, but with his usual innate heartsomeness.
Eldred came to the Sloan home by the rear. There was the old shed used as a kitchen as of yore, there was the unglazed gaping sash. Eldred sat down beside a sheltering lilac bush and removed the covering from the pane of glass and the putty, placed these handy for his meditated operations and drew a putty knife from his pocket. 