His voice broke here and he turned away. Sudden contrition, and as sudden fear that Peak, offended, might desert him in his need, assailed Hiram. “I ain’t responsible for what I’m sayin’ to-day, Sime,” he pleaded. “You know what has happened to stir me up. I’ve been stirred up all my life, somehow. You’ll have to overlook it in me. There ain’t nobody I ever got along with better’n I have with you--when all is said. I’ll show you later that I appreciate it, too. We’ll get along together all right after this. All is, you must see me through and keep her mouth plugged.” Then the two tall hats bent together in earnest conference. That evening one of Hiram Look’s horses, hitched to Hiram’s best carriage, pranced up to the door of Fyles’ tavern, and the thin woman hopped in lightly, snuggled herself down beside Simon Peak, and away they went. In Simon’s inside pocket was one of Hiram’s bankbooks showing deposits of a generous amount in one of the savings banks at the county shire. Between its leaves was tucked an order signed by Hiram Look, and directing that money should be paid over to Simon Peak, who would be identified by one of the showman’s friends in the city. There were blank spaces in the order for the insertion of the amount of money to be drawn. “I’m going to show you what I think of you, Sime,” Hiram had declared in a burst of enthusiasm. “You said I misjudged you. Well, here’s showin’ you that I ain’t. I’m goin’ to leave that order blank ’cause I believe in you. I’ll bet you’re friend enough of mine to beat her down another notch. I’ll bet you can do it. Fill in the amount and draw when it’s settled. Stay till you get them letters, put her on a train and come back, and I’ll show ye that Hime Look appreciates a friend in need.” It was a piece of impulsiveness that worried the showman considerably during the next day or two, as he sat watching for the head of the gray horse to come bobbing around the alders. His hard life had taught him to distrust men’s honesty and faith. He wondered as he sat there what had influenced him to put so much trust in Peak on the spur of the moment. “It’s on account of gittin’ softened up by women, that’s what it is,” he grunted in soliloquy. “There I was with a tin can tied to my tail and runnin’ around in a circle and afraid of the two of ’em. No, I ain’t afraid of Abby Snell! But it’s wuth more than one five thousand dollars to keep it away from her that I ever fell in love with a circus woman and wrote such letters as----” Again the red flush came up from under his collar.