“That’s all right, Sam,” replied Mr. Todhunter cordially. “All that ’appened there was that I let myself get what I might call rather ’asty. I been thinking it over, and I’ve got nothing against the feller.” This was true. Sleep, which knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, had done much to soothe the troubled spirit of Hash Todhunter. The healing effect of a night’s slumber had been to convince him that he had wronged Claire. He proceeded to get Sam’s expert views on this. “Suppose it was this way, Sam: Suppose a feller’s young lady went and give another feller a cup of hot tea and cut him a slice of cake. That wouldn’t ’ave to mean that she was flirting with ’im, would it?” “Not at all,” said Sam warmly. “Far from it. I would call it evidence of the kind heart rather than the frivolous mind.” “Ah!” “I may be dangerously modern,” said Sam, “but my view--and I give it fearlessly--is that a girl may cut many a slice of cake and still remain a good, sweet, womanly woman.” “You see,” argued Hash, “he was wet.” “Who was wet?” “This feller Twist. Along of washing the dog. And Claire, she took and give him a nice cup of hot tea and a slice of cake. Upset me at the time, I’ll own, but I see where maybe I done ’er an injustice.” “You certainly did, Hash. That girl is always doing that sort of thing out of pure nobility of nature. Why, the first morning I was here she gave me a complete breakfast--eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, marmalade and everything.” “No, did she?” “You bet she did. She’s a jewel, and you’re lucky to get her.” “Ah!” said Hash with fervour. He gathered up the tray alertly and bore it downstairs to the kitchen, where Chimp Twist eyed him warily. Although on his return to the house on the previous night Chimp had suffered no injury at Hash’s hands, he attributed this solely to the intervention of Sam, who had insisted on a formal reconciliation; and he had just heard the front door bang behind Sam. A nervous man who shrank from personal violence, particularly when it promised to be so one-sided as in his present society, Chimp felt apprehensive. He was reassured by the geniality of his companion’s manner. “Nice day,” said Hash. “Lovely,” said Chimp, relieved. “’As that dog ’ad ’er breakfast?” “She was eating a shoe when I saw her last.” “Ah, well, maybe that’ll do her till dinnertime. Nice dog.” “Yes, yes.” “Nice weather.” “Yes, yes.” “If the rain ’olds off, it’ll be a regular nice day.” “It certainly will.” “And if it rains,” continued Hash, sunnily optimistic, “I see by the paper that the farmers need it.” It was a scene which would have rejoiced the heart of Henry Ford or any other confirmed peacemaker; and Chimp, swift, in his canny fashion, to take advantage of his companion’s miraculous cordiality, put a tentative question. “Sleep well last night?” “Like a top.” “So did I. Say,” said Chimp enthusiastically, “that’s a swell bed I’ve got.” “Ah?”