Steve listened a little surprised at the homily. Then Mr. Follet went on: "I ain't ever cared anything about liquor myself, though I could have had all I wanted all my life long, but I am willing other people should make it, and have it, or sell it, all they want to." Steve looked more surprised and his lips settled just a little into firmer lines, but Mr. Follet failed to notice it. "Now, old Kaintuck, which has always been the freest state in the Union, has got a passle o' folks turned loose in it just like the folks I was telling you about. They're so good themselves they ain't satisfied till they make everybody else do just as they say. They're making laws in the towns that no liquor can be sold, and I tell you men of old Kaintuck ain't goin' to stand that and I don't blame 'em," he concluded vehemently. Steve started to reply, his lips growing firmer, and his eyes taking fire, but Mr. Follet gave him no chance. "Now, I promised some fellows that I would meet 'em to-night,--and bring home a load of hay," he ended with an excited laugh. "A load of hay with whiskey enclosed?" asked Steve, instantly suspecting. "Yes," said Mr. Follet, delighted with Steve's quickness, "that's the idee. Then I unload it in my barn and ship it as I please to these dry towns. I'm in for the law as a general thing," he added quickly, "but I believe in folks having their rights." "Well, Mr. Follet," said Steve, going to the foot of the bed and leaning hard upon it, "we must understand each other at once. I do not agree with you as to our rights. I do not think we have the right to destroy ourselves or others with any weapon whatsoever, the pistol, the knife, poison or whiskey. I am with the law in every particular," he said firmly. "With the law," exclaimed Mr. Follet excitedly, "when it says a man can't do with his own corn on his own place what he wants to do with it? A man's got as good a right, in my mind, to put up a still and make whiskey out of his corn as his wife has to gather apples and make pies!" he concluded, fairly quivering with excitement. Steve held himself quietly, and said gently: "Mr. Follet, you are too ill for me to discuss these things with you now. I see we look at them from totally different points of view." "There ain't but one point of view," shrilly returned Mr. Follet, "and that's the point of view of man's rights. Why, it won't be long till a man can't milk his own cow without the government standing round to watch her switch her tail and tell him how to do it,--all ready to grab the money if he sells a little to a neighbour!" "Well, Mr. Follet," said Steve, looking steadily but kindly in the enraged eyes of his opponent, "there is one thing that we do agree upon, and that is, every man has a right to his own opinion," and the kindness in Steve's eyes merged into his sudden smile, which stemmed a little the rising tide of Mr. Follet's wrath. After a somewhat subdued pause he turned to Steve appealingly: