"I don't. But I'm listening." "Well, it was this way. Soon as Lanse learned me an' Helen wasn't hitched, he couldn't help knowin' everything was gonna be all right. On account of it warn't logical her an' me should git kilt _before_ we was married an'--an' had a youngster...." His face was flaming. But I was inexorable. "I still don't get it. Why not? Why wasn't it logical?" "Aw, durn, Jim--don't you see? Because Biggs knew that much o' my 'history.' That is, my future, to me, is my _past_ to him. He knew who I'd married, and that me an' my wife had a youngster, an' consequently if them things hadn't happened yet, we was bound to live an' make 'em happen!" So it finally sank in. I said, "Golly! You're right--as usual! But wasn't it a lucky break that Lancelot Biggs happened to know something about your history, Hank? Your name must be pretty well known to the men of the future--" Hank writhed in embarrassment. "Well, now, I wouldn't 'zackly say that, Jim. Lanse knew about me, yes. But then, he'd be likely to. Him an' me bein' related, so to speak--" "Related!" "Yeah. Spoke to him 'bout it later. Y'see, Lanse is a sort of grandson o' mine, with a lot o' great-greats on the front of it--" He gulped and looked at Helen miserably. "I--I'm afeared they ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it, Helen. Lanse says you was his great-great-grandmammy!" And then Helen MacDowell--smiled! And it was the kind of smile I hope to see some time on the lips of a woman looking at me. And she said, very softly, "There's no sense in fighting fate, is there, Hank? What must be, must be. And there _is_ something we can do--to make the future happier...." Aw, hell! I promised Helen she could have him alone in a dark room, didn't I? So I said good-by. I don't think either of them heard me. In fact, I'm sure of it!