“I got it up”--Bishop's face was doggedly pale, almost defiant of his overwhelming disaster--“I mortgaged this farm to get money to buy Maybry and Morton's four thousand acres.” “The farm you was going to deed to Alan?” gasped his wife. “You didn't include that?” “Not in _that_ deal,” groaned Bishop. “I swapped that to Phil Parsons fer his poplar an' cypress belt.” The words seemed to cut raspingly into the silence of the big room. Abner Daniel was the only one who seemed unmoved by the confession. He filled his pipe from the bowl on the mantel-piece and pressed the tobacco down with his forefinger; then he kicked the ashes in the chimney till he uncovered a small five coal. He eyed it for a moment, then dipped it up in the shovel, rolled it into his pipe, and began to smoke. “So I ain't a-goin' to git no yeerly pass over the new road,” he said, his object being to draw his brother-in-law back to Perkins's action in the matter. “Perkins was a-lyin' to me,” answered Bishop. “He hain't admitted it yet; but he was a-lyin'. His object was to he'p the Tompkins sell out fer a decent price, but he can' t be handled; he's got me on the hip.” “No,” said Abner. “I'd ruther keep on swappin' gold dollars fer mountain-land an' lettin' it go fer taxes 'an to try to beat a lawyer at his own game. A court-house is like the devil's abode, easy to git into, no outlet, an' nothin' but scorch while you are thar.” “Hush, fer the name o' goodness!” cried Mrs. Bishop, looking at her husband. “Don't you see he's dyin' from it? Are you all a-goin' to kill 'im? What does a few acres o' land ur debts amount to beside killin' a man 'at's been tryin' to help us all? Alfred, it ain't so mighty awful. You know it ain't! What did me 'n' you have when we started out but a log-house boarded up on the outside? an' now we've got our childern educated an' all of us in good health. I railly believe it's a sin agin God's mercy fer us to moan an' fret under a thing like this.” “That's the talk,” exclaimed Abner Daniel, enthusiastically. “Now you are gittin' down to brass tacks. I've always contended--” “For God's sake, don't talk that way!” said Bishop to his wife. “You don't mean a word of it. You are jest a-sayin' it to try to keep me from seein' what a fool I am.” “You needn't worry about me, father,” said Alan, firmly. “I am able to look out for myself an' for you and mother. It's done, and the best thing to do is to look at it in a sensible way. Besides, a man with twenty thousand acres of mountain-land paid for is not broken, by a long jump.” “Yes, I'm gone,” said Bishop, a wavering look of gratitude in his eye as he turned to his son. “I figured on it all last night. I can't pay the heavy interest an' come out. I was playin' for big stakes an' got left. Thar's nothin' to do but give up. Me buyin' so much land has made it rise a little, but when I begin to try to sell I won't be able to give it away.”