"An' the Banks called back, sharp, like they do, 'Who's there?' but it was Nimrod whinnied.... It was the colonel gone to bed in the road, an' Nimrod standin' stock-still by his side, like he always did, till some one passin' would lay his master acrost his back again. "Miss Judith sat down when we knew, an' she sat straight as a rod; there's all the pride of all the Westmo's in Miss Judith, and was then, though she weren't no older than you. 'Some gentleman has met with an accident,' she says, very steady. 'Help him to his horse, Ben,' an' I did. "But the colonel weren't too far gone not to recognize a petticoat--he had a' instinc' for anything feminine an' his manners couldn't be beat. I'd put his hat on his head, but he swep' it off. "'My grateful thanks to you, Madame,' he says in his fine voice. 'I met with a little accident. I shall hope to thank you in person to-morrow.' He were too far gone to know his own daughter, but he hadn't forgot his Westmo' manners. "An' Miss Judith sat straight as ever, an' all she says was, 'Drive on, Ben.'... That's Westmo' for you!" Ben concluded, with deep admiration. Ann had heard the story before, and always it had brought the color to her cheeks, for it stirred her imagination, but she had never flushed more deeply than now. "You like Garvin, don't you, Ben?" she asked softly. Ben eyed her in his shrewd way, "Yes, he's got feelin' for the woods--a born hunter. Trouble is, everything's game to Garvin, Ann." Ann was afraid to say anything more. "It was a bag-fox they had this morning," she remarked for diversion. "Shame!" Ben said curtly. Then, irrelevantly, "I reckon I'll choose Westmo' fo' my nex' shootin'. I mean to tote my traps over there to-night." Ann was recalled to her errand. "You mean you'd go away from us, Ben?" she asked in well-simulated surprise. Ben's eyes twinkled. "I'm tellin' you news now, ain't I! What did you come down here for?" Ann laughed; she knew it was no use to pretend. "You're so smart, Ben--you know what's in people's heads ... Aunt Sue told me. She's just heart-broken, an' I said I'd come an' beg you. How could we have got on without you this winter, and how are we going to get on without you now? Don't you go, Ben!" "Reckon Coats can run this place without me," Ben said determinedly. "I don't believe he can," Ann persisted. "I know he'll want you." "Not he. I know Coats Penniman." "Of course you know him better than I do," Ann said wistfully. "Don't you like my father, Ben?" Ben moved restlessly. "He's a Penniman an' awful set in his ways--Coats Penniman's a fearful steady, determined man--though that's not sayin' anything against him." "Aunt Sue says he is the best man who ever walked," Ann said earnestly. "She's reason to think that way.... I reckon I don't like too much goodness, Ann--not the kind that's unhuman good. That's because I'm jest 'Bear' Brokaw, though.... No, I'm goin'."