"Whereas _your_ goin' was a clean case o' tryin' to pass off goods that weren't your own, or anything like it. . . . Come, I'll put it to you another way. Supposin' your letter had worked the trick, and she'd said 'yes' on the strength of it--I'm puttin' this for argyment's sake, you understand?" "Go on." "And supposin' one day, after you was married, she'd come to you and said, ''Bias, I want a letter written. I thought o' writin' it myself, but you're such a famous hand at a letter.' A nice hole you'd a-been in!" "No, I shouldn'. I'd say, 'You rate me too high, my dear. Still,' I'd say, 'if you insist upon it, you just scribble down the main points on a sheet o' paper, and I'll take a walk and think it over.' Then I'd carry it off to Benny." 'Bias, who so far had held the better of the argument by keeping his temper, clinched his triumph with a nod and refilled his pipe. "Benny's an old man, and might die at any moment," objected Cai. "Now you're gettin' too far-fetched altogether. . . . Besides, 'twouldn't be any affair o' yours--would it?--after I'm married to her." "Well, you won't be--now: and no more shall I," said Cai bitterly. "Benny's seen to that!" "'Tis a mess, sure enough," agreed 'Bias, lighting his pipe and puffing. "She'll be affronted--oh, cuss the word! Just fancy it, to-morrow morning, when she opens her post! A nice pair of jokers she'll think us!" Cai paced the room. "Couldn't we go up to-night and explain?" "Five minutes to ten," said 'Bias with a glance at the clock. "Ask her to get out o' bed and come down to hear we've made fools of ourselves? I don't see myself. You can do what you like, o' course." "I shan't sleep a wink," declared Cai, still pacing. "How on earth Benny--" He halted of a sudden. "You don't suppose Benny himself--" "Ch't! a man of his age. . . . No, I'll tell you how it happened, as I allow: and, if so, Benny's not altogether to blame. First you goes to him, and wants a letter written. You give him no names, but he learns enough to guess how the wind sits . . . am I right, so far?" Cai nodded. "So he writes the letter and off you goes with it. Later on, in _I_ drops with pretty much the same request. I remember, now, the old fellow behaved rather funny: asked me something about bein' the 'first person,' and then wanted to know if I didn' wish the letter written for a friend. I wasn't what you might call at my ease with the job, and so--as the time was gettin' on for dinner, too--I let it go at that." "You did? . . . But so did I!" "Hey?" "I let Benny think he was writin' it for a friend o' mine. Far as I remember, he suggested it. . . . Yes, he certainly did," said Cai with an effort of memory.