"He has had his lesson, perhaps he will turn over a new leaf," she said. "I fear there isn't a new leaf in his book," said Kelso. "They're all dirty." He told his wife what Abe had said in the store. "The wisdom of the common folk is in that beardless young giant," he said. "It is the wisdom of many generations gathered in the hard school of bitter experience. I wonder where it is going to lead him." As Eliphalet Biggs was going down the south road next morning he met Bim on her pony near the schoolhouse, returning from the field with her cow. They stopped. "I'm coming back, little girl," he said. "What for?" she asked. "To tell you a secret and ask you a question. Nobody but you has the right to say I can not. May I come?" "I suppose you can--if you want to," she answered. "I'll come and I'll write to you and send the letters to Ann." Mentor Graham, who lived in the schoolhouse, had come out of its door. "Good-by!" said young Mr. Biggs, as his heels touched the flanks of his horse. Then he went flying down the road. CHAPTER VIII WHEREIN ABE MAKES SUNDRY WISE REMARKS TO THE BOY HARRY AND ANNOUNCES HIS PURPOSE TO BE A CANDIDATE FOR THE LEGISLATURE AT KELSO'S DINNER PARTY. Harry Needles met Bim Kelso on the road next day, when he was going down to see if there was any mail. She was on her pony. He was in his new suit of clothes--a butternut background striped into large checks. "You look like a walking checkerboard," said she, stopping her pony. "This--this is my new suit," Harry answered, looking down at it. "It's a tiresome suit," said she impaciently. "I've been playing checkers on it since I caught sight o' you, and I've got a man crowned in the king row." "I thought you'd like it," he answered, quite seriously, and with a look of disappointment. "Say, I've got that razor and I've shaved three times already." He took the razor from his pocket and drew it from its case and proudly held it up before her. "Don't tell anybody," he warned her. "They'd laugh at me. They wouldn't know how I feel." "I won't say anything," she answered. "I reckon I ought to tell you that I don't love you--not so much as I did anyway--not near so much. I only love you just a wee little bit now." It is curious that she should have said just that. Her former confession had only been conveyed by the look in her eyes at sundry times and by unpremeditated acts in the hour of his peril. Harry's face fell. "Do you--love--some other man?" he asked. "Yes--a regular man--mustache, six feet tall and everything. I just tell you he's purty!" "Is it that rich feller from St. Louis?" he asked. She nodded and then whispered: "Don't you tell." The boy's lips trembled when he answered. "I won't tell. But I don't see how you can do it." "Why?" "He drinks and he keeps slaves and beats them with a bull whip. He isn't respectable." "That's a lie," she answered quickly. "I don't care what you say." Bim touched her pony with the whip and rode away.