"Well, no odds." Bates began to tug at his glove again. "I've come to you like a man an' made an open breast of it, as the feller said. I intend to ask her point-blank the very first time I get her alone again. The girl hain't give me the least bit of hope, but her mother has--a little. I reckon a feller might take it that way." "What did Mrs. Floyd say?" Westerfelt started, and looked Bates straight in the eyes. "Oh, nothing much; I may be a fool to think it meant anything, but this morning when I called for Miss Harriet the old lady came in and acted mighty friendly. She asked me to come to dinner with 'em next Sunday, and said Harriet always was backward about showing a preference for the young man she really liked, an' said she was shore I didn't care much for her or I'd come oftener." Westerfelt was silent. He had never suspected Mrs. Floyd of scheming, but now that his suspicions were roused he let them run to the opposite extreme. Yes, he thought, she was trying to marry her daughter off. Perhaps because she wanted her to forget Wambush, who was certainly a man no sensible woman would like to have in her family. Bates's round red face appeared in a blur before him. Bates said something, but it sounded far off, and he did not catch its import. There was a long silence, and then the lawyer spoke again: "What do you say? Why are you so devilish grum?" He took off his hat, and wiped his brow with a red bandanna. Westerfelt stared into his face. He was unable to collect his senses. It was an awful moment for him. If he intended to marry her, and forget all, he must propose to her at once, or, urged by her mother, she might marry Bates and be lost to him forever. Bates caught his arm firmly. "I'm no fool," he said, impatiently. "Dad burn it, you _do_ love her. I see it! You are trying to throw me off the track! Look heer! If you've lied to me--" Voices were heard in the bushes up the road. Jennie Wynn and Harriet were approaching. "There they are now!" exclaimed Bates, in another tone; "you have not been open with me; for God's sake, don't keep me in suspense! Is she _yours_? Answer that!" "I have never asked her." Westerfelt spoke through tight lips. "I've no claim on her." "Well, then, it's as fair for one of us as the other." Bates was half angry. "We both want her; let's have it over with. Let's speak out now an' let her take her choice. If she takes you, you may drive her home; ef it's me--well, you bet it'll make a man of me. She is the finest girl on God's green earth. Here they come! What do you say?" Westerfelt drew his arm from Bates's grasp, and stared at him with eyes which seemed paralyzed. "Don't mention me to her," he demanded, coldly. "I'll manage my own affairs." "All right," Bates lowered his voice, for the two girls were now quite near; "you may be sure of your case, and I may be making a blamed fool of myself, but she's worth it."