I could see just a flash of hesitation, but she wanted them too much. David, one bouquet will go in water and be cared for a week. Man, it's getting close! This does seem like a link."
"Since you say it, possibly I dare agree with you," said the Harvester.
"How near are you through with that canvass of yours?"
"About three fourths."
"Well I'd go on with it. After all we have got to find her ourselves. Those senile policemen!"
"I am going on with it; you needn't worry about that. But I've got to change to other flowers. I've stripped the violet beds. There's quite a crop of berries coming, but they are not ripe yet, and a tragedy to pick. The pond lilies are just beginning to open by the thousand. The lake border is blue with sweet-flag that is lovely and the marsh pale gold with cowslips.
The ferns are prime and the woods solid sheets of every colour of bloom. I believe I'll go ahead with the wild flowers."
" I would too! David, you do feel better, don't you?"
"I certainly do, Doctor. Surely it won't be long now!"
The Harvester was so hopeful that he whistled and sang on the return to Medicine Woods, and that night for the first time in many days he sat long over a candlestick, and took a farewell peep into her room before he went to bed.
The next day he worked with all his might harvesting the last remnants of early spring herbs, in the dry-room and store-house, and on furniture and candlesticks.
Then he went back to flower gathering and every day offered bunches of exquisite wood and field flowers and white and gold water lilies from door to door.
Three weeks later the Harvester, perceptibly thin, pale, and worried entered the office. He sank into a chair and groaned wearily.
"Isn't this the bitterest luck!" he cried. "I've finished the town. I've almost walked off my legs. I've sold flowers by the million, but I've not had a sight of her."
"It's been almost a tragedy with me," said the doctor gloomily. "I've killed two dogs and grazed a baby, because I was watching the sidewalks instead of the street. What are you going to do now?"
"I am going home and bring up the work to the July mark. I am going to take it easy and rest a few days so I can think more clearly. I don't know what I'll try next. I've punched up the depot and the policemen again. When I get something new thought out I'll let you know."
Then he began emptying his pockets of money and heaping it on the table, small coins, bills, big and little.
"What on earth is that?"
"That," said the Harvester, giving the heap a shove of contempt, "that is the price of my pride and humiliation.
That is what it cost people who allowed me to cheek my way into their homes and rob them, as one maid said, for my own purposes. Doc, where on earth does all the money come from? In almost every house I entered, women had it to waste, in many cases to throw away. I never saw so much paid for nothing in all my life. That whole heap is from mushrooms and flowers."
"What are you piling it there for?"
"For your free ward. I don't want a penny of it. Iwouldn't keep it, not if I was starving."
"Why David! You couldn't compel any one to buy.
You offered something they wanted, and they paid you what you asked."
"Yes, and to keep them from buying, and to make the stuff go farther, I named prices to shame a shark.
When I think of that mushroom deal I can feel my face burn. I've made the search I wanted to, and Iam satisfied that I can't find her that way. I have kept up my work at home between times. I am not out anything but my time, and it isn't fair to plunder the city to pay that. Take that cussed money and put it where I'll never see or hear of it. Do anything you please, except to ask me ever to profit by a cent. When I wash my hands after touching it for the last time maybe I'll feel better."
"You are a fanatic!"
"If getting rid of that is being a fanatic, I am proud of the title. You can't imagine what I've been through!"
"Can't I though?" laughed the doctor. "In work of that kind you get into every variety of place; and some of it is new to you. Never mind! No one can contaminate you. It is the law that only a man can degrade himself. Knowing things will not harm you.
Doing them is a different matter. What you know will be a protection. What you do ruins----if it is wrong. You are not harmed, you are only disgusted.
Think it over, and in a few days come back and get your money. It is strictly honest. You earned every cent of it."
"If you ever speak of it again or force it on me I'll take it home and throw it into the lake."
He went after Betsy and slowly drove to Medicine Woods. Belshazzar, on the seat beside him, recognized a silent, disappointed master and whimpered as he rubbed the Harvester's shoulder to attract his attention.
"This is tough luck, old boy," said the Harvester.
"I had such hopes and I worked so hard. I suffered in the flesh for every hour of it, and I failed. Oh but I hate the word! If I knew where she is right now, Bel, I'd give anything I've got. But there's no use to wail and get sorry for myself. That's against the law of common decency. I'll take a swim, sleep it off, straighten up the herbs a little, and go at it again, old fellow; that's a man's way. She's somewhere, and she's got to be found, no matter what it costs."
