But Britt had started to run wild and was galloping under the whip of fury. He had been doing some amazing things that day--he had written verse, he had blubbered foolishly with a girl looking on, and he had horsewhipped his twin brother before the eyes of the populace--but what he did next was more amazing than all the rest. Having sourly admitted to himself that he was a coward when he was alone with the girl, he took advantage of this moment when his choleric desperation gave him fictitious courage. He slashed into the situation with what weapons he had at hand--and he held a reserve weapon, so he thought, in the big wallet that thrust its bulk reassuringly against his breast. “This thing seems to have come to a climax; and it ain't through any fault of mine. I've never yet been afraid to talk for myself, in a climax, and I ain't afraid now. The time to do business is when you've got your interested parties assembled--and the five folks in this room--the whole five--may not be collected together again,” he stated, with vengeful significance, looking hard at Vaniman. Then he whirled on the girl. “Vona, I want to marry you. You know it. Your folks know it. It's all understood, even if it hasn't been put into words. I'll give you everything that money will buy. When you get me you know what you're getting. I put the question to you right here and now, before your home folks, and that shows you what kind of a square man I am. I don't sneak in dark corners.” He accused her escort with a glowering side-glance. Mrs. Harnden simpered. Vona had never found her mother an especially stable support in times of stress, but the girl did feel that the maternal spirit might arise and help in an emergency as vital as that one! Mrs. Harnden, however, was gazing into the arena and was blandly indicating by her demeanor, “Thumbs down!” Then the girl appealed to her father, mutely eager; denied sympathy, she was asking for protection. But Mr. Harnden was distinctly not extending protection. He was looking at Mr. Britt. By avoiding what he knew the girl was asking for with all her soul in her eyes, Mr. Harnden was indulging his consistent selfishness; he hated to be worried by the troubles of others; others' woes placed brambles on the pathway of his optimism. “Tasper, you have certainly jumped the Harnden family--jumped us complete! You can't expect a girl to get her voice back right away. But I suppose it's up to me to speak for the family.” Vaniman stepped into the center of the room. “I suppose so, too, Mr. Harnden. I'll confess that I came into your house this evening with that idea in my mind.” Now the girl had eyes only for the one whom she recognized as her real champion; those eyes would have inspired a knight to any sort of derring-do, Frank was telling himself. “That being agreed, I'll speak,” stated Mr. Harnden, throwing back his coat lapels and displaying all his pencil quills.