Rebecca was afraid to interrupt, and too honest to wish to overhear. She could only hope the man and the boy would pass on to the house as they talked, so she motioned to the paralyzed Thirza to take two more steps and stand with her behind the elderberry bushes. But no! In a moment they heard Mr. Came drag a stool over beside the grindstone as he said: “Well, now Elisha Jeremiah, we'll talk about the red cow. You say you've drove her a month, do ye? And the trade between us was that if you could drive her a month, without her getting the rope over her foot and without bein' afraid, you was to have her. That's straight, ain't it?” The Prophet's face burned with excitement, his gingham shirt rose and fell as if he were breathing hard, but he only nodded assent and said nothing. “Now,” continued Mr. Came, “have you made out to keep the rope from under her feet?” “She ain't got t-t-tangled up one s-single time,” said Elisha, stuttering in his excitement, but looking up with some courage from his bare toes, with which he was assiduously threading the grass. “So far, so good. Now 'bout bein' afraid. As you seem so certain of gettin' the cow, I suppose you hain't been a speck scared, hev you? Honor bright, now!” “I--I--not but just a little mite. I”-- “Hold up a minute. Of course you didn't _say_ you was afraid, and didn't _show_ you was afraid, and nobody knew you _was_ afraid, but that ain't the way we fixed it up. You was to call the cow your'n if you could drive her to the pasture for a month without _bein'_ afraid. Own up square now, hev you be'n afraid?” A long pause, then a faint, “Yes.” “Where's your manners?” “I mean yes, sir.” “How often? If it hain't be'n too many times mebbe I'll let ye off, though you're a reg'lar girl-boy, and'll be runnin' away from the cat bimeby. Has it be'n--twice?” “Yes,” and the Little Prophet's voice was very faint now, and had a decided tear in it. “Yes what?” “Yes, sir.” “Has it be'n four times?” “Y-es, sir.” More heaving of the gingham shirt. “Well, you _air_ a thunderin' coward! How many times? Speak up now.” More digging of the bare toes in the earth, and one premonitory tear drop stealing from under the downcast lids, then,-- “A little, most every day, and you can keep the cow,” wailed the Prophet, as he turned abruptly and fled behind the shed, where he flung himself into the green depths of a tansy bed, and gave himself up to unmanly sobs. Cassius Came gave a sort of shamefaced guffaw at the abrupt departure of the boy, and went on into the house, while Rebecca and Thirza made a stealthy circuit of the barn and a polite and circumspect entrance through the parsonage front gate.