"I will. But isn't that glorious news from George? Oh, you don't know how low-spirited he was. Sometimes I thought he never would get up again. Don't you know that just a word, even though lightly spoken, may sometimes spur one to renewed action? Oh, it's undoubtedly a fact." "Yes, words may sometimes be ashes, but often they are coals of fire. Will you please--" "Oh, that's a good sentiment. I must remember it and tell George. He'll be out again Saturday evening. But I'll go and tell Mrs. Stuvic that you want to see--that's the man coming out now." A strong-looking man came walking out toward the gate. Mrs. Blakemore stepped aside, and he was about to pass when Milford said: "Your name is Dorsey, I understand." "That's it," the man replied, taking a toothpick out of his mouth. "I'd like to see you a moment on business; over in the grove." "What's your name?" "Come over into the grove. I want to see you a moment. My name's Milford." "Do you want to see me about a horse? I want to hire one. Is that it?" "Yes, over in the grove." "All right. Got him there? I don't care whether he's gentle or not. I can manage him all right. The first thing one of you farmers tells a fellow is that his horse is gentle, when he knows that all he wants is an opportunity to run away. So you may save yourself that trouble." Milford conducted him to a spot out of view from the house. He halted and threw his hat on the ground. He told him what the hired man had said. "Well," said Dorsey, "this is a fine proceeding." "Take off your coat." "What are you going to do?" "Whip you if I can." "But I'm not looking for any trouble." "You may not have looked for it, but you've found it." "Say, this is all nonsense. You won't tell me what I said, and I don't remember. But let me tell you something. You can't whip me. I can mop the earth with you--my way. Is that the way you want to fight?" "Yes. _My_ way would mean something. But it won't do in this country. Take off your coat." The fellow was an athlete. Milford was no match for him. He had the strength, but not the skill in boxing. But once Milford got him down, ran under and snatched his feet from under him. In a moment, though, he was up again, meeting strength with skill. Three times he knocked Milford down. It was useless to continue to fight. Milford held up his hands. "We'll call it off for the present," he said, panting. "Suit yourself. I've got nothing to fight about except to keep from getting licked, and it's for you to say when to stop." "Well, I say stop, for the present. I haven't been used to fighting your way. I'm from the West, and if I had you there we'd soon settle it. It's not over with as it is. I'll see you again. Do you expect to come back out here this summer?" "Well, I'm not going to let you keep me away. You don't know what you've run up against, young fellow. I teach boxing in town. That's my lay." "All right. I'll see you again."