Bible from the topmost shelf, extracted from inside its cover the aged, yellow slip of paper that he had deposited there when he had entered the cottage that morning, and on which was inscribed Helena's name and address in a stiff, old-fashioned, angular hand resembling the Patriarch's—an effect that Madison had stayed up half the night to produce.
"I guess this must be it," he said. "He said it was here—we'll make sure though"—and he handed it to the Patriarch.
Long and painfully the Patriarch studied it, anxiously deciphering the words that he had never seen before, anxious to know all and whatever this might tell him about his niece—then again he nodded his head and expressed his gratitude by patting Madison's sleeve.
Madison's smile modestly disavowed any thanks, as he passed the slip to Mr. Higgins.
"Reckon that be it," Mr. Higgins agreed. "An' now, I guess I'll go right back to town an' write it—I allow that the sooner we get her down here the better. Folks'll be glad to hear this—the women folks was figurin' on takin' spells an' helpin' out in the house same as the men in the garden—'pears now there won't be no need of it."
Madison accompanied Mr. Higgins outside and helped him to harness up.
"Look here, Mr. Madison," said Hiram Higgins, as he made ready to go and climbed into the democrat, "would you allow that the Patriarch's
