“Polycarp Jenks, don't ever tell--about those marks. I--I don't want any one to know. When--after a while--I want to think first--perhaps you can help me. Go away now--not away from the ranch, but--let me think. I'm all right--or I will be. Please go.” Polycarp recognized that tone, however it might be hoarsened by bruised muscles and the shock of what she had suffered. He recognized also that look in her eyes; he had always obeyed that look and that tone--he obeyed them now, though with visible reluctance. He sat down in the kitchen to wait, and while he waited he chewed tobacco incessantly, and ruminated upon the mystery which lay behind the few words Val had first spoken, before she realized just what it was she was saying. After a long, long while--so long that even Polycarp's patience was feeling the strain--Val opened the door and stood leaning weakly against the casing. Her throat was swathed in a piece of white silk. “I wish, Polycarp, you'd get the team and hitch it to the light rig,” she said. “I want to go to town, and I don't feel able to drive. Can you take me in? Can you spare the time?” “Why, certainly, I c'n take you in, Mis' Fleetwood. I was jest thinkn' it wa'n't safe for you out here--” “It is perfectly safe,” Val interrupted chillingly. “I am going because I Want to see Arline Hawley.” She raised her hand to the bandage. “I have a sore throat,” she stated, staring hard at him. Then, with one of her impulsive changes, she smiled wistfully. “You'll be my friend, Polycarp, won't you?” she pleaded. “I can trust you, I know, with my--secret. It is a secret--it _must_ be a secret! I'll tell you the truth, Polycarp. It was Manley--he had been drinking again. He--we had a quarrel--about something. He didn't know what he was doing--he didn't mean to hurt me. But I fell--I struck my head; see, there is a great lump there.” She pushed back her hair to show him the place. “So it's a secret--just between you and me, Polycarp Jenks!” “Why, certainly, Mis' Fleetwood; don't you be the least mite oneasy; I'm your friend--I always have been. A feller ain't to be held responsible when he's drinkin'--by granny, that's a fact, he ain't.” “No,” Val agreed laconically, “I suppose not. Let us go, then, as soon as we can, please. I'll stay overnight with Mrs. Hawley, and you can bring me back to-morrow, can't you? And you'll remember not to mention--anything, won't you, Polycarp?” Polycarp stood very straight and dignified. “I hope, Mis' Fleetwood, you can always depend on Polycarp Jenks,” he replied virtuously. “Your secret is safe with me.” Val smiled--somewhat doubtfully, it is true--and let him go. “Maybe it is--I hope so,” she sighed, as she turned away to dress for the trip.