"I got hit," he replied, "but hit'll hafter be more nex' time. Yo' must ha' ben mighty unthoughted not ter conceit a big gal like she is now costs more ter feed an' clothe than a leetle, mosquito-like thing she war when yo' brung her ter me five year back." "Oh, come now," returned the other, speaking in a low voice and drawing Peter to one side. "I'm paying you plenty and you know it. I gave you too much in the first place, that's all. But a bargain's a bargain and I'll stand by it. And I'm going to see that you do, too. Get me?" Evidently Peter did, for he made no reply. He merely stood with his head slightly drooped, like a dog that has received a lash, waiting for what was to follow. He had not long to wait. "I just got into town this morning," the man continued. "I was planning to take a run out to your place. Luckily, I saw you drive by the hotel. I thought you'd probably stop here at the post office, so I hurried right down." He paused. Peter waited, then edged toward the door. "Waal, I reckon I'd better be gittin' on," he drawled. The other stayed his departure. "Wait a minute," he said. "I want to talk with you. I've got a proposition I think you'll be interested in. You'd better put your horse up somewhere and come over to the hotel--say in about half an hour. I've got a man out now getting some information. He'll be back by that time and I'll be ready to discuss the matter." Peter twisted and writhed as he peered furtively at the speaker before replying. "Ther hain't no call fer me ter go ter no hotel es fur es I kin see," he remarked. "Jes' whut mought yo' be aimin' ter talk ter me erbout?" Again the man's lip curled back, his mustache drooped down and he spoke through his white teeth much as a dog would emit a low, threatening snarl. "I thought you might like to make a little easy money. Of course if you don't, I can take the girl--Mollie--off your hands as well now as any time." The threat was not lost on Peter. He did not want to surrender Mollie. She was his main source of income. It had been bad enough to lose Cynthy. But the amount he received for Mollie was far beyond the small sum Cynthy's father had been wont to remit. And this man now talking to him about a proposition to make easy money was Bailey, the stranger he had met at the crossroads five years previous and with whom he had made a contract that had brought him more easy money than he had ever dreamed of. Peter thrust his tongue in his cheek and revolved the tobacco in his mouth while his slow-moving wits considered the ultimatum that had just been issued. "All right," he said, at length. "I got a little business ter look arter et Smith's Golden Rule an' then I'll come right over. Whar'll I find yo'?" Bailey told him the location of his room. "You needn't say anything to anyone at the hotel," he remarked in a casual manner. "Just come right up to the room."