“I don't agree with you, sir,” Floyd answered, tartly, “but we won't argue about it. If you don't intend to abide by our agreement, then say so and we will part company.” Mayhew stared in alarm for a moment, then he said: “There's no use talking about parting. I only want to kind of hold you in check. You get your sympathies stirred up and make plunges sometimes when you ought to act with a clear, impartial head. You say the crop looks well; then it's all right. Go ahead, Mrs. Stark. Anything Nelson does is agreeable to me.” “Well, it's mighty good of you both,” the old woman said, wiping tears of joy from her eyes. “But I won't buy anything to-day. I'll ride out to the farm as quick as I can and tell Peter the good news. He's mighty nigh out of his senses about it.” Mayhew followed her down into the store. It was as if he were ashamed to meet the quizzical look which Pole Baker had fixed upon him. He had no sooner turned his back than Pole faced Floyd, his heavy brows drawn together, his every feature working under stress of deep emotion. “They say the Almighty is a just and a good God,” Pole said. “But I'll deny it all the rest o' my life ef He lets Jeff Wade shoot down sech a specimen o' manhood as you are fer jest that one slip, after--after, I say, after fillin' you with the fire of youth an' puttin' right in yore track a gal like that Minnie Wade, with a pair o' dare-devil eyes an' a shape that ud make a Presbyterian preacher--” “Dry up, Pole!” Floyd cried, suddenly. “Don't forget yourself in your worry about me. A man is always more to blame than a woman, and it's only the cowards that shirk the consequences.” “Well, you have it yore way, an' I'll have it mine,” Pole snorted. “What both of us think hain't got a damn thing to do with the time o' day. How does she stand by your ticker?” Floyd looked at his watch. “It's a quarter-past eleven,” he said. “The hell it is!” Pole went to the back-door and looked out at the dreary stable-yard and barn. He stood there for several minutes in deep thought, then he seemed to make up his mind on something that was troubling him, for he suddenly thrust his hand into his hip-pocket, turned his back on Floyd, drew out a revolver, and rapidly twirled the cylinder with his heavy thumb. “Yes, I 'lowed I'd swore off from shootin'-scrapes,” he mused; “but I shore have to git in this un. I'd never look Sally an' the childern in the face ag'in ef I was to stand still an' let that dead-shot kill the best friend me an' them ever had. No, Poley, old boy, you've got to enlist this mornin', an' thar hain't no two ways about it. I'd take a drink on it, but a feller's aim ain't wuth a dang when he sees double.” His attention was suddenly attracted to Floyd, who had left his stool and was putting a revolver into the pocket of his sack-coat. Pole shoved his own cautiously back into his pocket and went to his friend's side. “What you goin' to do now?” he asked.