Pole laughed outright. “You keep that check, old man,” he said. “Nelson Floyd will cram it down yore throat ef you won't take it any other way. I tell you he's jest tickled to death. He thinks the world and all of you because you are the only kin he ever laid eyes on. Now, you stay right whar you are an' I'll send 'im to you. He's not fur off.” Hurrying into the next room, Pole saw Floyd standing at a window looking out into the street, a touch of his old despondency on him. He caught Pole's triumphant smile and stood with lips parted in suspense. “It's jest as I told you, my boy,” the mountaineer said, with a chuckle. “He's owned up to the whole blasted thing. You've got as good a right to vote in America as any man in it.” “Good God, Pole, you don't mean--” “You go in thar an' he'll tell you all about it.” Pole continued to smile. “You say he has actually confessed of his own accord?” Floyd cried, incredulously. “Well, I _did_ sorter have to lead 'im along a little,” Pole laughed. “To unlock his jaws, I told 'im me 'n' you already knowed the facts, so you might as well take that stand, give 'im plenty o' rope an' let 'im tell you all about it. But don't be hard on 'im, Nelson; the pore old cuss wanted to do the fair thing but was pressed to the wall by circumstances an' devilish men.” “Thank God, Pole, thank God!” Floyd cried. “I can hardly believe it's true.” “Well, it is, all right enough,” Baker assured him. “Now, I'm goin' to catch the ten-thirty train. I want to git home before you do, an' git this thing circulated--so nobody won't snub you an' feel bad about it afterwards. I'll strike old Mrs. Snodgrass the fust thing. She is editor of the _Hill-top Whirlwind_, an' will have an extra out ten minutes after I land containin' full particulars. Fer once I'm goin' to put her to a good use. She'll certainly make the rounds, an' as I don't want the old thing to walk 'er props off, I'll lend 'er a hoss. But I'll tell you what I'd like fer you to do, Nelson, an' I almost ax it as a favor.” “What's that, Pole?” “Why, I want you to take that old chap under yore wing to-day an' git 'im out o' the clutch o' them shyster lawyers that's got 'im scared to death.” “You may rest assured that I'll do that,” Floyd said, as he hurried away. A moment later, as Pole was passing Nelson's room to reach the main stairway, he glanced through the open door. Old Floyd sat with bowed head, wiping his eyes on his handkerchief, and his nephew stood by him, his hand resting on his shoulder. XL THREE days later, towards sundown, as Pole was about to enter Floyd & Mayhew's store, the old man came from! behind one of the counters and, with a smile of welcome, caught his arm and drew him to the edge of the sidewalk. “I am not much of a hand to talk on any subject, Pole,” he said. “But there is something I've got to say to you, and it comes from the heart.”