"Didn't have the money. Allus my luck. Ever' time I've come across a chance fur a good speckerlation I ain't got no money. But I must be goin'--I don't know, howsomedever, fur wife must have fed the stock by this time. Lemme see. I reckon I better go." That night when the romantic woman from the city was asleep, she did not dream that the preacher was on his knees, with clasped hands, gazing up at her window. CHAPTER XI. READING THE NEWS. The next morning Old Jasper took up the story-paper and for a long time sat at the table, bending over it, reading laboriously. Not far away his wife sat, knitting and slowly rocking. Sometimes the old man's face would light up and then it would darken. "Shot fo' an' stobbed three," he read. "Hold on, he's about to git another one. Got him! Oh, you bet he's got him foul. Wait a minit." Then, gripping the table with one hand and with the other one grasping the paper, he continued to read: "'Then the Captain findin' himself again surrounded by the'"--he halted and began to spell out the word--"'by the--b-a-n-d-i-t-s--threw down his empty pistol, drew his dirk and--' Who tore this off?" he got up excitedly and demanded. "Here, fetch me what the Captain done. Never in all my life was I left in sich a lurch. Why, thar's no tellin' how many mo' he killed. Didn't think that feller Gabe was sich a good jedge of a paper, but blamed if he didn't fetch me one with news a oozin' out at every pore. And now somebody has come along an' grabbed the works outen it. Margaret, don't you see whut a fix I'm in? Can't you help me?" Without looking up from her knitting, she replied: "Why, Jasper, that ain't news. It's only a story-paper." He staggered back as if she had thrown over him a pail of cold water. His hair looked limp, and dew-beads of emotion stood out upon his brow. He took a step forward and limped as if he had lost a part of his strength. "What, Margaret, ain't news when a man shoots fo' an' stobs three? Now you air a woman of fine sense. I've allus said that, and for mercy sake don't come a tellin' me that you don't know what news is. Scold me whenever you feel like it, but don't come a tellin' me that." She didn't look up. "But Jasper, it ain't true." "Ain't true? Here it is, right here. Look." He shuffled over to her and spreading out the paper put his finger at the place whence the vital spark had fled. "Look, spelled out jest like in a almanic. See fur yo'se'f." Then came her voice, cold and cutting to his hopes: "Oh, I know it's thar well enough. What I mean is it's all made up--it's a tale." "A tale? What's that? What do you mean by a tale? Do you mean that it didn't happen?" "Yes, that's exactly what I mean. Of course it didn't happen."