"Old Bill Higgins an' Randy Dixon? They wouldn't try to arrest me if I wuz tied hand an' foot an' chloroformed into the bargain. But, say, there ain't no use talkin' about this thing. I want the folks to know that I'm goin' to stick to Justine an' help her out as long as I can. I'm doin' it honest an' I'm gittin' paid fer it like anybody else. Martin, I don't want to have 'em say anything ag'in her. She's as good as gold an' we all oughter be proud of her. Jud's in hard luck, I reckon. Leastwise he looked it last time he wuz here. Mebby he'll git on his feet over there in Europe, an' then he c'n do the right thing by her. But I'll tell you, Martin, we all want to stick to her now. She's all broke up an' I c'n see she's discouraged. She wouldn't let on fer the world, allus bright an' happy, but old Mrs. Crane told me t'other day that she'd ketched her cryin' more'n onct. That gosh-darned little farm of her'n ain't payin' a thing, an' I want to tell you she needs sympathy 'nstead of hard words." "They ain't a soul ever said anything ag'in her, 'Gene," broke in the other. "But they're apt to ef it goes on. But go ahead; you know best, 'Gene, you know best." "I don't know best, either. That's the trouble. I c'n talk to you an' sweat about it, but I don't know what to do. I'm awful worried about it. Of course, if any responsible person ever said anything wrong she could sue him in the courts, somehow er other, but she'd hate to do that," said 'Gene, reflectively. Plainly, he saw the girl's position better than his loyalty would allow him to admit. Martin started violently at the word "sue" and was from that moment silenced. He lived in terror of a lawsuit and its dangers. "D'you suppose she'd go to court?" "She wouldn't want to, but me--me an'--me an' Jud could coax her to do it," said 'Gene, shrewd in an instant. "I don't reckon folks remember about the courts, do they?" Martin pulled his nerves together sufficiently to send a stream of tobacco juice into a knot-hole in the fence fifteen feet away, and said: "Well, they'd oughter remember, by ginger!" After a few minutes of rather energetic chewing for him (Martin rarely chewed tobacco vigorously because of the extravagance), he calmly reopened the conversation. "When are you liable to git through plantin' over there?" "In a couple of days, if it keeps dry." "I'll let Bud Jones go over an' help you ef you need him." "Oh, I c'n git along, I guess." "I wuz thinkin' a little of sendin' Bud over this week with a couple bushels of potaters fer Jestine. Never seed sich potaters in my born days." "I think she's got a plenty, Martin." "You don't say so. Well, how's she off fer turnips?" "She could use a few bushels of turnips an' some oats an' little corn, I reckon. Dern it, I believe she's purty nigh out of hay, too," said 'Gene, soberly. "Tell her I'll drive over this week with some," said Martin, wiping his brow.