“Miss Cynthia and I were sitting in the grape arbor, behind the house. She only stayed a minute or two. I sat there a long time after she went in. I was smoking and was beastly tired.” “I see, I see!” Pole was slightly mollified, but was still to be heard from. “Now, let me tell you some'n', Nelson,” he pursued. “Thar hain't no flower that ever bloomed an' throwed out sweet smells that's as nice an' purty as a pure young gal that's got good, honorable parents, an' the reputation of a creature like that is more valuable in my sight than all the gold an' diamonds on earth.” “You certainly are right about that,” Floyd agreed, coldly, for he was secretly resenting Pole's implied warning. “Well, then,” Baker said, even more sternly, “don't you climb out'n Nathan Porter's orchard at this time o' night ag'in, when thar's a gate with a latch an' hinges to it right before yore eyes. What ef you'd 'a' been seed by some tattlin' busybody? You hain't got no more right to run the risk--_the bare risk_, I say--o' castin' a stain on that little gal's name than I have to set fire to yore store an' burn it to the ground. The shack could be built up ag'in, but that fair name 'ud never be the same ag'in.” “You are thoroughly right, Pole,” Floyd said, regretfully. “I can see it now. But I'm rather sorry to see you throw it at a feller quite so hard.” “I reckon I'm sorter upset,” the farmer said, half apologetically, as they walked on. “I reckon it was my talk with Jeff Wade about his sister that got me started. That's mighty nigh broke him all to pieces, Nelson.” “So you met Wade!” Floyd said, quickly. “I thought perhaps you stopped him.” “You thought I did? What made you think I did?” “Why, when I'd waited till about one o'clock,” Floyd replied, “I started out to Wade's, and--” “You say you started out thar?” “Yes, I knew he meant business, and I wanted it settled, one way or the other, so that I could go back to work, or--” “Or turn yore toes to the sky, you fool!” “I started to say,” Floyd went on, “that I knew something had interfered with his coming, and--” “He'd 'a' shot seventeen holes in you or 'a' put seventeen balls in one!” Pole cried, in high disgust. “I finally fixed him all right, but he wasn't in no frame o' mind to have you come to his house an' rub it in on 'im. However, you hain't told me what made you think I stopped 'im.” “Why,” said Floyd, “just as I was starting away from the spring, Mel Jones came running down the hill. He'd been hiding behind a big rock up there to see the affair, and was awfully disappointed. He begged me to wait a little longer, and said he was sure Jeff would come on. Then he told me he saw you in the road near Wade's house, and I understood the whole thing. I guess I owe my life to you, Pole. It isn't worth much, but I'm glad to have it, and I'd rather owe you for it than any one I know. What did you say to Wade?”