"I can see," said Janice more quietly, "that Polktown has changed and developed whether I have or not. We certainly have learned----" "To _do something_," finished Nelson with emphasis. "That's it exactly. The teachings instilled into his daughter's mind by that really wonderful man, Mr. Broxton Day, to the end that she is always eager to begin the battle while other folk are merely talking about it, has served to put Polktown on the map." Janice squeezed his arm, dimpling and smiling. "Dear daddy!" she mused. "If he only could get away from business affairs and come out of distracted Mexico to spend his time here in peace and quiet." "'Peace and quiet!'" repeated the schoolmaster. "Ask Walky Dexter what he thinks of _that_. If your father sustains the reputation his daughter has given him, Polktown would be prodded into an even more strenuous existence than that of our recent successful campaign for no license. Walky believes, Janice, you have all the characteristics of a capsicum plaster." "Now, Nelson!" "Fact! You ask him. You're the greatest counter-irritant that was ever applied to any dead-and-alive settlement.... 'Lo, Walky!" The village expressman, as well known as the town pump and quite as important, drew the bony and sleepy Josephus to an abrupt stop beside the smiling pair of young people. Walky's broad, wind-blown countenance was a-grin and his eyes twinkled as he broke into speech: "Jefers-pelters! d'you know what I caught myself a-doin' when I seen you two folks goin' down hill ahead of me?" "I couldn't guess, Walky. What?" asked Janice. "Whistlin' that there 'Bridle March' they play on the church organ when there's a weddin'--haw! haw! haw!" Janice colored rosily, but could not refrain from laughter at Walky's crude joke. Nobody could be very angry with Walky Dexter, no matter what he said or did. "That's a poor brand of humor you are peddling, old man," said the schoolmaster coolly. "Besides, you don't pronounce the word right. It's 'bri-_dal_' not 'bridle.' You speak it as though it were a part of Josephus' harness." "Young man," responded Walky solemnly, but with a twinkle in his watery eye, "when they play that march for you ye'll find ye're harnessed all right. I been merried thutty year now and I oughter know if 'tain't a 'bridle' march and a halter they lead ye to 'stead of a altar." He exploded another laugh in approval of his own wit and rattled on down to the dock. There was little self-consciousness in the manner of the schoolmaster and Janice. They looked at each other understandingly again and smiled.