"Good morning," growled Crane. Tolliver looked off over the valley and up at the sky which was flecked with tags of fleece-cloud. "Hit look like hit mought rain in er day er two," he remarked. "Yes, I don't know, quite likely," said Crane, gazing evasively in another direction. "Ever'body's well, I s'pose, up ther' at the tavern?" inquired Tolliver. "I believe so," was the cold answer. Tolliver leaned over the pommel of his saddle-tree and combed his horse's mane with his sinewy fingers. Meantime the expression in his face was one of exceeding embarrassment blent with cunning. "Kyernel, c'u'd ye do a feller a leetle yerrent what's of importance?" he asked with peculiar faltering. "Do what?" inquired Crane lifting his eye-brows and turning the cigar in his mouth. "Jest a leetle frien'ly job o' kindness," said Tolliver, "jest ter please ask thet young leddy--thet Miss Crabb 'at I fotch up yer on er mule tother day, ye know; well, jest ax her for me ef I moughtn't come in an' see 'er on pertic'lar an' pressin' business, ef ye please, sir." By this time the mountaineer's embarrassment had become painfully apparent. Any good judge of human nature could have seen at once that he was almost overcome with the burden and worry of the matter in hand. His cheeks were pale and his eyes appeared to be fading into utter vacancy of expression. Crane told him that there was no need to be particularly formal, that if he would go in and ask for Miss Crabb she would see him in the parlor. "But, Kyernel, hit's er private, sort er confidential confab 'at I must hev wi' 'er, an'----" "Oh, well, that's all right, you'll not be interrupted in the parlor." "Air ye pine blank shore of it, Kyernel?" "Certainly." "Dead shore?" "Quite, I assure you." Crane had become interested in Tolliver's affair, whatever it might be. He could not keep from sharing the man's evident intensity of mood, and all the time he was wondering what the matter could be. Certainly no common-place subject could so affect a man of iron like Tolliver. The poet's lively imagination was all aglow over the mystery, but it could not formulate any reasonable theory of explanation. Miss Crabb appeared in the parlor promptly and met Tolliver with a cordiality that, instead of reassuring him, threw him into another fit of embarrassment from which he at first made no effort to recover. His wide-brimmed hat, as he twirled it on his knees, quivered convulsively in accord with the ague of excitement with which his whole frame was shaking. He made certain soundless movements with his lips, as if muttering to himself. Miss Crabb at first did not notice his confusion, and went on talking rapidly, reiterating thanks for the kindness he had shown her in her recent mishap, and managing to put into her voice some tones that to him sounded very tender and sweet.