Itwasteno’clockasheclimbedagainintothebuggyandstartedhisteamonaswifttrotdowntheroad。Whatwouldshethink？Hesawhernowwithtearfuleyesandpoutinglips。Shewassittingatthewindow，withhatandgloveson；theresthadgone，andshewaswaitingforhim。
Butshe’dknowsomethinghadhappened，becausehehadpromisedtobethereateight。Hehadtoldherwhatteamhe’dhave。HehadforgottenatthismomentthedoubtanddistrusthehadgivenheronMonday。She’dknowhe’dsurelycome。
Buttherewasnosmilingortearfulfacewatchingatthewindowashecamedownthelaneatatearingpaceandturnedintotheyard。
Thehousewassilentandthecurtainsdown。Thesilencesentachilltohisheart。Somethingroseupinhisthroattochokehim。
“Agnes!“hecalled。“Hello!I’mhereatlast!“
Therewasnoreply。Ashesatthere，theparthehadplayedonMondaycamebacktohim。Shemaybesick!hethoughtwithacoldthrilloffear。
Anoldmancamearoundthecornerofthehousewithapotatoforkinhishands，histeethdisplayedinagrin。
“Sheain’there。She’sgone。“
“Gone!“
“Yes-more’nanhourago。“
“Who’dshegowith？“
“EdKinney，“saidtheoldfellowwithamaliciousgrin。“Iguessyourgooseiscooked。“
Willlashedthehorsesintoarunandswungroundtheyardandoutofthegate。Hisfacewaswhiteasadeadman’s，andhisteethweresetlikeavise。Heglaredstraightahead。Theteamranwildly，steadilyhomeward，whiletheirdriverguidedthemunconsciously。
Hedidnotseethem。Hismindwasfilledwithatempestofrages，despairs，andshames。
Thatridehewillneverforget。Inithethrewawayallhisplans。
Hegaveuphisyear’sschooling。Hegaveuphislawaspirations。Hedesertedhisbrotherandhisfriends。Inthedizzyingwhirlofpassionshehadonlyoneclearidea-togetaway，togoWest，togetawayfromthesneersandlaughterofhisneighbors，andtomakehersufferbyitall。
Hedroveintotheyard，didnotstoptounharnesstheteam，butrushedintothehouseandbeganpackinghistrunk。Hisplanwasformed，whichwastodrivetoCedarvilleandhiresomeonetobringtheteamback。Hehadnothoughtofanythingbuttheshame，theinsultshehadputuponhim。HeractiononMondaytookonthesamelevityitworethen，andexcitedhiminthesameway。HesawherlaughingwithEdoverhisdismay。Hesatdownandwrotealettertoheratlast-aletterthatcamefromtheferocityofthemedievalsavageinhim：
“ItyouwanttogotohellwithEdKinney，youcan。Iwon’tsayaword。That’swherehe’lltakeyou。Youwon’tseemeagain。“
Thishesignedandsealed，andthenhebowedhisheadandweptlikeagirl。Buthistearsdidnotsoftentheeffectoftheletter。Itwentasstraighttoitsmarkashemeantitshould。Ittoreasearedandraggedpathtoaninnocent，happyheart，andbetookasavagepleasureinthethoughtofitasherodeawayonthecarstowardtheSouth。
Thesevenyearslyingbetween188oand1887madeagreatchangeinRockRiverandinTheadjacentfarmingland。SignschangedandfirmswentoutofbusinesswithcharacteristicWesterneaseofshift。Thetreesgrewrapidly，dwarfingThehousesbeneaththem，andcontrastsofnewnessanddecaythickened。
WillfoundThecountrychanged，ashewalkedalongThedustyroadfromRockRivertoward“TheComers。“Thelandscapewasatitsfairestandliberalest，withitsseasofcorndeepgreenandmovingwithamournfulrustle，insharpcontrasttoitsflashingblades；itsgleamingfieldsofbarley，anditswheatalreadymottledwithsoftgoldinThemidstofitspea-green。
ThechangeswereinThehedges，grownhigher，InThegreaterpredominanceofcornfieldsandcattlepastures，butespeciallyinThedestructionofhomes。AshepassedonWillsawThegrassgrowingandcattlefeedingonadozenplaceswherehomeshadoncestood。TheyhadgivenplacetoThelargefarmandThestockraiser。StillThewholescenewasbountifulandverybeautifultoTheeye。
ItwasespeciallygratefultoWill，forhehadspentnearlyallhisyearsofabsenceamongTherocks，treelessswells，andbleakcliffsofTheSouthwest。ThecricketsrisingbeforehisdustyfeetappearedtohimsomethingsweetandsuggestiveandThecattlefeedinginTheclovermovedhimtodeepthought-theyweresopeacefulandslow-motioned。
AshereachedalittlepoppletreebyTheroadside，hestopped，removedhisbroad-brimmedhat，puthiselbowsonThefence，andlookedhungrilyuponThescene。Theskywasdeeplyblue，withonlyhereandthereahuge，heavy，slow-moving，massive，sharplyoutlinedcloudsailinglikeabergoficeinashorelessseaofazure。
Inthefieldsthemenwereharvestingtheripenedoatsandbarley，andThesoundoftheirmachinesclattering，nowlow，nowloud，cametohisears。Fliesbuzzednearhim，andakingbirdclatteredoverhead。Henoticedagain，ashehadmanyatimewhenaboy，thatThesoftenedsoundofThefar-offreaperwasattimesexactlylikeThehumofabluebottleflybuzzingheedlesslyabouthisears。
AslenderandveryhandsomeyoungmanwasshockinggrainnearThefence，workingsodesperatelyhedidnotseeWilluntilgreetedbyhim。Helookedup，repliedtoThegreeting，butkeptontillhehadfinishedhislaststook，thenhecametotheshadeofthetreeandtookoffhishat“Nicedaytositunderatreeandfish。“
Willsmiled。“Ioughttoknowyou，Isuppose；Iusedtolivehereyearsago。“
“Guessnot；wecameinthreeyearsago。“
Theyoungmanwasquick-spokenandverypleasanttolookat。
Willfeltfreerwithhim。
“AreTheKinneysstilllivingoverthere？“Henoddedatagroupoflargebuildings。
“Tomlivesthere。OldmanliveswithEd。TomoustedTheoldmansomeway，nobodyseemstoknowhow，andsoheliveswithEd。“
WillwantedtoaskafterAgnes，buthardlyfeltable。“Is’poseJohnHannanisonhisoldfarm？“
“Yes。Gotagoodcropthisyear。“
WilllookedagainatThefieldsofrustlingwheatoverwhichThecloudsrippled，andsaidwithanairofconviction：“ThislaysoverArizona，deadsure。“
“You’refromArizona，then？“
“Yes-agoodwaysfromit“’Willrepliedinawaythatstoppedfurtherquestion。“Goodluck!“headdedashewalkedondownTheroadtowardThecreek，musing。“Andthespring-Iwonderifthat’sthereyet。I’dlikeadrink。“Thesunseemedhotterthanatnoon，andhewalkedslowly。Atthebridgethatspannedthemeadowbrook，justwhereitwidenedoverasandyford，hepausedagain。Hehungovertherailandlookedattheminnowsswimmingthere。
“Iwonderifthey’reThesameidenticalchapsthatusedtoboilandglittertherewhenIwasaboy-looksso。Menchangefromonegenerationtoanother，butThefishremainThesame。Thesameeternalprocessionoftypes。IsupposeDarwin’udsaytheirenvironmentremainsThesame。“
HehungforalongtimeoverTherailing，thinkingofavastnumberofthings，mostlyvague，flittingthings，lookingintothecleardepthsofthebrook，andlisteningtothedeliciousliquidnoteofablackbirdswingingonthewillow。Redliliesstarredthegrasswithfire，andgoldenrodandchicorygreweverywhere；purpleandorangeandyellow-greentheprevailingtints。
Suddenlyawatersnakewriggledacrossthedarkpoolabovetheford，andtheminnowsdisappearedundertheshadowofthebridge。ThenWillsighed，liftedhishead，andwalkedon。Thereseemedtobesomethingpropheticinit，andhedrewalongbreath。
That’sthewayhisplansbrokeandfadedaway。
Humanlifedoesnotmovewiththeregularityofaclock。Inlivingtherearegapsandsilenceswhenthesoulstandsstillinitsflightthroughabysses-andthentherecometimesoftrialandtimesofstrugglewhenwegrowoldwithoutknowingit。Bodyandsoulchangeappallingly。
Sevenyearsofhard，busylifehadmadechangesinWill。
Hisfacehadgrownbold，resolute，andrugged，someofitsdelicacyandallofitsboyishqualitygone。Hisfigurewasstouter，erectasofold，butlessgraceful。Heborehimselflikeamanaccustomedtolookoutforhimselfinallkindsofplaces。Itwasonlyattimesthattherecameintohisdeepeyesapreoccupied，almostsadlookthatshowedkinshipwithhisoldself。
Thislookwasonhisfaceashewalkedtowardtheclumpoftreesontherightoftheroad。
Hereachedthegroveofpoppletreesandmadehiswayatoncetothespring。Whenhesawit，itgavehimashock。Theyhadletitfillupwithleavesanddirt。
Overcomebythememoriesofthepast，heflunghim-selldownonthecoolandshadowybank，andgavehim-selluptothebittersweetreveriesofamanreturningtohisboyhood’shome。Hewasfilledsomehowwithastrangeandpowerfulfeelingofthepassageoftime；withavaguefeelingofthemysteryandelusivenessofhumanlife。Theleaveswhispereditoverhead，thebirdssangitinchoruswiththeinsects，andfarabove，inthemeasurelessspacesofsky，thehawktolditinthesilenceandmajestyofhisflightfromcloudtocloud。
Itwasafeelinghardlytobeexpressedinword~oneofthoseemotionswhosespringsliefarbackinthebrain。Helaysostill，thechipmunkscamecuriouslyuptoABranchRoad35
hisveryfeet，onlytoscurryawaywhenhestirredlikeasleeperinpain。
HehadcuthimselfoffentirelyfromthelifeatTheCorners。HehadsentmoneyhometoJohn，buthadconcealedhisownaddresscarefully。Theenormityofthisfollynowcamebacktohim，rackinghimtillhegroaned。
Heheardthepatteroffeetandthehalf-mumbledmonologueofarunningchild。Herousedupandfacedasmallboy，whostartedbackinterrorlikeawildfawn。Hewasdeeplysurprisedtofindamantherewhereonlyboysandsquirrelsnowcame。Hestuckhisfistinhiseye，andwasbackingawaywhenWillspoke。
“Holdon，sonny!Nobody’shityou。Come，Iain’tgoin’toeatyeh。“
Hetookabitofmoneyfromhispocket。“Comehereandtellmeyourname。Iwanttotalkwithyou。“
Theboycreptuponthedime。
Willsmiled。“YououghttobeaKinney。Whatisyourname？“
“TomathDickinthonKinney。I’mthixandahalf。I’vegotacolt，“
lispedtheyoungsterbreathlesslyashecrepttowardthemoney。
“Oh，youare，eh？Well，now，areyouTom’sboyorEd’s？“
“Tomth’sboy。UncleEdhithgal-“
“Edgotaboy？“
“Yeth，thir-liibaby。AuntAggletthmehold’im“
“Agg!Isthathername？“
“That’swhatUncleEdcallthher。“
Theman’sheadfell，anditwasalongtimebeforeheaskedhisnextquestion。
“Howisshe，anyhow？“
“Purtywell，“pipedtheboywithaprolongationofthelastwordsintoakindofchirp。“She’thbeenthick，though，“headded。
“Beensick？Howlong？“
“Oh，alongtime。Butsheain’tthickabed；she’thawuulpoor，though。Gran’pathaythshe’thpooratharake。“
“Oh，hedoes，eh？“
“Yeth，thir。UncleEdhejawthher，thenshecrieth。“
Will’sangerandremorsebrokeoutinagroaningcurse。“OmyGod!Iseeitall。Thatgreatlunkin’houn’hasmadelifeahellferher。“Thenthatlettercamebacktohismind；hehadneverbeenabletoputitoutofhismind-heneverwouldtillhesawherandaskedherpardon。
“Here，myboy，Iwantyoutotellmesomemore。WheredoesyourAuntAgneslive？“
“Atgran’pa’th。Youknowwheremygran’palivth？“
“Well，youdo。NowIwantyoutotakethislettertoher。Giveittoher。“Hewrotealittlenoteandfoldedit。“Nowdustouto’here。“
Theboyslippedawaythroughthetreeslikearabbit；hislittlebrownfeethardlyrustled。Hewaslikesomelittlewoodanimal。
Leftalone，themanwentbackintoareveriethatlastedtilltheshadowsfellonthethicklittlegrovearoundthespring。Herose~
lastand，takinghisstickinhand，walkedouttothewoodagainandstoodthere，gazingatthesky。Heseemedloathtogofarther。Theskywasfullofflame-coloredcloudsfloatinginayellow-greensea，wherebarsoffaintpinkstreamedbroadlyaway。