"Yes, but I can't help from holdin' that a man that will nip you in a hoss swop one time will do it agin if he gets the chance."

"Well," she said, "you would have nipped him if you could."

"Yes, that mout be, but I wouldn't have come round preachin' to him afterwards. Go on in, you young folks, and I'll waller around here a while and then go down and see how my hosses air gettin' along."

"And I will stay with you," said Lyman. The romance had gone out of the old house, for him, but not for Warren and Nancy. Warren walked to the church with her, and she pleaded with him to let her go up to the door alone.

"Why should we care what they think?" he said.

"Oh, I care a good deal. They would talk about me and laugh at me, and besides you ain't no kin to me. It's only kin folks that set together."

"They don't know whether I'm any kin to you or not."

"Yes, they do. They know that I haven't any young men kin folks round here but cousin Jerry."

"Who the deuce is he? Hold on a moment. Tell me about that fellow Jerry."

"Oh, there ain't nothin' to tell except he's my cousin. If you let me go in alone I'll tell you all about him when I come out."

He suffered her to go in alone, but he sat as close to her as he could, on a bench just opposite, and it was so evident that he wanted to be nearer that a hillside wag remarked to a friend; "See that young feller a leanin' in toward her like a young steer with a sore neck."

The remark was pa.s.sed from one to another and a t.i.tter went round the room. Warren saw her blush and realizing that he was the cause of her embarra.s.sment, he leaned back, and the wag remarked: "Other side of his neck's sore now--he's leanin' tuther way."

Lyman and the old man walked about the grounds. Pitt suggested going to the spring, but Lyman drew back from the idea as if the place were desolate now. They went down the road to a mossy place where the ironwood trees leaned out over a stream. They looked at the sun-fish flashing their golden sides in the light; they sat down to smoke a pipe, the rising voice of the preacher seeming to sift in the leaves above them. The sun was shining aslant when they got up and a shadow lay upon the pool.

"He must be on the home-stretch," said the old man, nodding toward the house. "I'll go over and hitch up the horses."

"I have a similar task to perform," Lyman replied. "I'll see you again before I start home."

"All right, and I am much obleeged for your company."

The sermon was over before the horses were harnessed. Warren came running to Lyman. "You ride with the old man and let me take the girl in the spring wagon," said he.

"What; we may not go in the same direction."

"Of course we do. We are going home with them. It's all right. I've put the old man down for a year's subscription."

"And you want to go over there to board it out. Is that it?"

"I hadn't thought of that. But I could do it."

"Does he know that he's a subscriber?"

"Not yet, but I can tell him. Miss Nancy wants us to go."

"Did she say so?"

"Well, now what would be the use of saying so? She could say it as easily as not. And I guess she would have said it if she had thought to. But I know she wants us to go. Come, now, won't you go just to oblige me? Remember, I didn't kick very hard when you killed all my best pieces of news. Let me have a fling now, won't you? You've been having all the fun--marriage and White Caps. Won't you go just to oblige me?"

"Yes, I'll ride with the old man or I'll ride on a rail when you put it that way."

"All right. Here she comes now, and the old man's up there waiting for you."

During the drive, the old fellow commented upon the historical places along the road. He pointed out the spot where he had killed the last diamondback rattlesnake seen in that neighborhood; he directed Lyman's attention to a barn wherein five negroes had been hanged for rising against the whites in 1854; he pointed at a charred stump and told the story of a fanatic who had tied himself there and burned himself on account of his religion. They came at last to a large log house, the Pitt homestead, and had unharnessed the horses before Warren and Nancy came within sight. A tall woman, followed by a score of children of all sizes, came out to meet them.

"They ain't all mine," said the old man. "Them as looks about fryin'

size belongs to the folks over the creek. Mother, this here is a friend of ourn from away up yonder whar they have to slice the potatoes and slip 'em down between the rocks, and I want to tell you that him and me fits one another like a hand and glove."

"I am mighty glad to meet you," said the woman, wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n. "Come right in and excuse the looks of everything and make yourself at home. But, pap, where's Nancy?"

"Oh, she's comin' along in a carry-all with the town man that runs the paper. She's all right--she can take care of herself anywhere."

They went into the house, the children scattering and peeping from corners and from behind the althea bushes in the yard. Warren and Nancy soon came in laughing. The girl threw her hat on the bed, tucked up her skirts and went out to the kitchen to help her mother, and the old man excused himself on the grounds that he must go out to feed the stock.

"Warren, gallantry is all right, but this is cruel," said Lyman. "We are imposing on this family. Look how those women have to work, and they will strain every nerve to get us something to eat."

"Of course they will, and they like it. Do you know that? They do. You couldn't please them more than by eating with them, and I'm always willing to put myself out to please folks. Say, we'll stay here tonight and go in tomorrow."

"I am not going to stay. Doesn't it strike you that you are a trifle too brash, as they say around here? Don't you think so?"

"Not a bit of it. I want to stay till tomorrow to see whether I want to come back again or not. I want to find out whether I am in love with her or not. I think I am, but still I don't know, and my rule is that a man ought to know where he stands before he walks. We were pa.s.sing under a tree and she reached up and pulled at a limb and her loose sleeve fell down and I saw her arm. That almost settled it. But I think I'll know definitely in the morning."

"Warren, I'm going back to town tonight."

"What, over that dark road? Don't you know we pa.s.sed a good many dangerous places coming? Stay till tomorrow."

"No, I'll walk back and leave the wagon for you."

"That would be an outrage. If you go back, drive."

"No, to tell you the truth I would rather walk. I want to think."

"Then you'd rather go alone, anyway, wouldn't you? All right, and probably I can get her to come to town with me tomorrow. They've got to send in to buy things sometimes, I should think. By the by, I've got a lot of seeds sent by a congressman, and I'll tell the old man he can have them. Nothing catches one of these old fellows like seeds.

He'll send her in after them tomorrow morning, and then I can find out how I stand."

"With her?"

"No, find out how I stand with myself--see whether I love her or not.

Have you found out yet--in your case? Tell me, I won't say anything about it."

"Yes, I have found out."

"You needn't say--I guess I know." Warren reached over and took Lyman by the hand. "We save time and trouble when we put a man in a position so that he needn't say."

"Yes," said Lyman, "the greatest justice you can confer on a man, at times, is to permit him to be silent."

Nancy came hastily into the room and from the broad mantel-piece took down two beflowered tea-cups, kept there as ornaments. She smiled at Warren and brushed out with a mischievous toss of her comely head.

"We not only put them to extra trouble, but compel them to take down their decorations," Lyman remarked.