“She ain't a-goin' to give you up, nuther,” replied Abner; “that's the purty part about it. Thar ain't no give up in 'er. She ain't that sort. She's goin' to give that daddy o' her'n a tussle.” XI [Illustration: 9092] NE morning early in July, as Alan was passing Pole Baker's cabin, on his way to Darley, Pole's wife came out to the fence and stopped him. She was a slender, ill-clad woman, who had once been pretty, and her face still had a sort of wistful attractiveness that was appealing to one who knew what she had been through since her marriage. “Are you goin' to town, Mr. Alan?” she asked, nervously. “Yes, Mrs. Baker,” Alan answered. “Is there anything I can do for you?” She did not reply at once, but came through the little gate, which swung on wooden hinges, and stood looking up at him, a thin, hesitating hand on his bridle-rein. “I'm afeerd some 'n' s happened to Pole,” she faltered. “He hain't been home fer two whole days an' nights. It's about time fer 'im to spree agin, an' I'm powerful afeerd he's in trouble. I 'lowed while you was in town that you mought inquire about 'im, an' let me know when you come back. That ud sorter free my mind a little. I didn't close my eyes all last night.” “I 'll do all I can, Mrs. Baker,” Alan promised. “But you mustn't worry; Pole can take care of himself, drunk or sober. I 'll be back to-night.” Alan rode on, leaving the pathetic figure at the gate looking after him. “I wonder,” he mused, “what Uncle Ab would say about love that has that sort of reward. Poor woman! Pole was her choice, and she has to make the best of it. Perhaps she loves the good that's in the rascal.” He found Rayburn Miller at his desk, making out some legal document. “Take a seat,” said Miller, “I 'll be through in a minute. What's the news out your way?” he asked, as he finished his work and put down his pen. “Nothing new, I believe,” said Alan. “I've been away for two days. Not having anything else to do, I made it my business to ride over every foot of my father's big investment, and, to tell you the truth, I've come to you with a huge idea. Don't laugh; I can't help it. It popped in my head and sticks, that's all.” “Good. Let me have it.” “Before I tell you what it is,” said Alan, “I want you to promise not to ridicule me. I'm as green as a gourd in business matters; but the idea has hold of me, and I don't know that even your disapproval will make me let it loose.” “That's a good way to put it,” laughed Miller. “The idea has hold of you and you can't let it loose. It applies more closely to investments than anything else. Once git into a deal and you are afraid to let it go--like the chap that held the calf and called for help.”