She took down a cow's-horn from a nail on the wall, and going to the door on the opposite side of the house she gave two long, ringing blasts, which set half a dozen dogs near by and some far off to barking mellowly. In a few minutes Pole appeared around the corner of the cabin. “Hello, Uncle Ab,” he said. “Won't you come in?” “No, hain't time,” smiled the old man. “I jest come over to see how much money you wanted to borrow.” “I don't want any o' yo'rn,” said Pole, leaning over the fence, his unbuttoned shirt-sleeves allowing his brawny, bare arms to rest on the top rail. “I wanted to talk to you about Alan an' that bank bu'st-up.” “You've been to town, I heer,” said Abner, deeply interested. “Yes, an' I've been with Alan an' Miller fer the last week tryin' to do some 'n', but we couldn't. They've been sendin' telegrams by the basketful, an' Jeff Dukes has trotted his legs off back an' forth, but nothin' hain't been done.” “You say the' hain't?” Abner's voice quivered and fell. “No; they both kept up the'r sperits purty well fer about ten days beca'se that dang Atlanta chief of police kept wirin' he was on a scent o' Winship; but day before yesterday they give in. We was a-settin' in Miller's office when the last message come from Atlanta. They said they'd been after the wrong man, an' that they'd give up. You ort to 'a' seed Alan's face. Miller tried to cheer 'im up, but it wasn't no go. Then who do you think come? Alan's sweetheart. She axed to see 'im, an' they talked awhile in the front room; then Miller come back an' said she'd axed to be introduced to me. Jest think of it! I went in and seed she'd been a-cryin'. She got up, by jinks! an' ketched my hand an' said she wanted to thank me beca'se I'd been sech a friend to Alan. Uncle Ab, I felt as mean as a egg-suckin' dog, beca'se thar was Alan flat o' his back, as the feller said, an' I hadn't turned a hand to he'p 'im. And thar she was, the gal he loves an' wants, an' his poverty standin' betwixt 'em. I couldn't say nothin', an' I reckon I looked more kinds of a damn fool than she ever seed on two legs.” “Well, what did you do?” asked Abner, too much moved by Pole's graphic picture to speak with his usual lightness. “What did I do? I made my bow an' slid. I made a bee-line fer Murray's bar an' put two down as fast as they could shovel 'em out. Then I tuck another, an' quit countin'. I begun to think I owned the shebang, an' broke several billiard-cues an' throwed the chalk around. Then Dukes come an' said he'd give me a chance to escape trial fer misconduct, ef I'd straddle my hoss an' make fer home. I agreed, but thar was one thing I had to do fust. I had promised Alan not to drink any more, an' so I didn't want to sneak away to hide it. I went to Miller's house, whar he's stayin', an' called 'im out. I told 'im I'd jest come fer no other reason 'an to let 'im see me at my wust. I felt like it was the only manly way, after I'd broke faith with a friend as true as he is.”