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In which Clarence Esmond places himself in the hands of the Bright-eyed Goddess of Adventure, and entrusted by that Deity to the care of a Butcher's Boy.

On morning early in September, the sun was shining brightly upon the village of McGregor. Nestled in a coulee between two hills, one rising squarely and rock-ribbed, lacking only the illusion of windows to give it the appearance of a ruined castle, the other to the northwest, sloping gently upwards, and crowned at the summit with a number of villas, McGregor, running down to the Mississippi River, was as pretty a town as Iowa could boast.

On this bright particular morning, an overgrown youth was sitting on the boat-landing, his feet dangling above the water, his face glooming darkly. Master Abe Thompson, age sixteen, was troubled in spirit.

He was homeless.

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