"Now see here, Rivers!" Maclin drew his chair closer and laid his hand on Larry's arm--he gloated over the trouble in the eyes holding his with dumb questioning. "It's coming out all right. We're in early and we've got the best seats--only keep them guessing; guessing! Larry, your wife goes--down to the Point a lot--goes missionarying, you know. Well, this Northrup is tramping around in the woods skirting the Point." Just here Larry started and looked as if something definite had come to him. Had he not seen Northrup that very day in the woods? "Now there's an empty shack on the Point, Rivers--some old squatter has died. I want you to get that shack somehow or another. It ought to be easy, since they say your wife owns the place; it's your business to _get_ it and then watch out and keep your mouth shut. You've got to live somewhere while you can't live decent at home. 'Tisn't likely your wife, having slammed the door of her home on you, will oust you from that hovel on the Point--your being there will work both ways--she won't dare to take a step." Larry drew a sigh, a heavy one, and began to understand. He saw more than Maclin could see. "She hasn't turned me out," he muttered. "I came out." "Let her explain that, Rivers. See? She can't do it while she's gallivanting with this here Northrup." Larry saw the possibilities from Maclin's standpoint, but he saw Mary-Clare's smile and that uplifted head. He was overwhelmed again by the sense of impotence. "Give a woman a free rein, Rivers, she'll shy, sooner or later." Maclin was gaining assurance as he saw Larry's discomfort. "That's what keeps women from getting on--they shy! When all's said, a tight rein is a woman's best good, but some women have to learn that." Something in Larry burned hot and resentful, but whether it was because of Maclin or Mary-Clare he could not tell, so he kept still. "Let's turn in, anyway, for to-night, old boy." Maclin's voice sounded paternal. "To-morrow is to-morrow and you'll feel able to tackle the job after a night's sleep." So they turned in and it was the afternoon of the next day when Larry took his walk to the Point. Just as he started forth Maclin gave him two or three suggestions. "I'd offer to hire the shanty," he said. "That will put you in a safe position, no matter how they look at it. An old woman by the name of Peneluna thinks she owns it. There's an old codger down there, too, Twombley they call him--he's smart as the devil, but you can't tell which way he may leap. Try him out. Get him to take sides with you if you can." "I remember Twombley," Larry said. "Dad used to get a lot of fun out of him in the old days. I haven't been on the Point since I was a boy." "It's a good thing you never troubled the Point, Rivers. They'll be more stirred by you now." "Maybe they'll kick me out." "Never fear!" Maclin reassured him. "Not if you show good money and play up to your old dad. He had everyone eating out of his hand, all right."