"Perhaps I am," acknowledged Sally turning the full battery of her pretty eyes upon her companion, until his pulse quickened as it had not done in years. He made an effort to speak, but the words failed him, and he only edged a little closer to her. For a wonder, she did not attempt to draw farther away. Was she really coming to her senses, as her mother had predicted? "Do you remember the ride we took a few weeks ago, an' what you said to me?" she asked slowly, and with averted eyes. "My dear, I have thought of little else, I do assure you," answered the Squire promptly, suddenly finding speech, now that the dazzling battery was withdrawn. "Well, I have thought a good deal of it myself of late," admitted Sally thoughtfully. "You profess to think a lot of me, but I expect you would refuse me the least little favor I might ask of you." "Have you usually found me a hard-hearted old skinflint?" asked the Squire reproachfully. "I've never put your kindness to a very great test, as yet. I thought I would begin with asking a little favor. You wouldn't refuse me that now, would you?" The girl looked up smiling into the old man's face, and brought all the coquetry at her command into play. "What is the favor?" asked the Squire shrewdly. "I never like to make a promise till I know what I'm promising." "It's about the smallest possession you have, and the one least valuable to you." "Well, what is it?" "I want the hat that was picked up last night." "Hum--m--m!" said the Squire meditatively. "In what manner does that hat concern you?" "How it concerns me, does not concern _you_," retorted the girl promptly, with an arch glance. "I don't know about that. Whatever concerns you, concerns me deeply, ducky!" "Will you give me that hat?" persisted Sally. "You fear it will be recognized?" ventured the Squire, and the girl winced under the words. "Well, it will be, before I've done with it. Of course I know it's that rascally Milt's hat," added the Squire shrewdly following up the clue the girl's manner and request had given him. "Haven't I seen him wear it, time and again? He had it on Court day," hazarded the speaker. He noted the quick start his companion gave, and the look of fear that overspread her face and crept into her eyes. A sudden thought occurred to him. He was now in a better position to strike a bargain than he soon would be again. "Now, suppose we put this matter on a strictly business footing," he said blandly. "You want the hat and I want a wife. A fair exchange is no robbery." "Don't say that!" exclaimed Sally, as though a sharp pain had suddenly entered her heart. "You are cruel!" "Not in the least!" retorted the Squire. "It's you that's cruel, my dear! You have it in your power to make me the happiest of men, and incidentally keep a friend of yours out of the penitentiary. The whole matter rests with you." The girl made no answer.