“Sit down, Reuben; I won’t touch you. I didn’t think you had just got the bad news. It’s over a week old to me.” “I got your letter last evening.” “Yes? I suppose it was enough to upset you. Come, we will let things run along as they have been for a few days. You won’t find me hard to get on with after you once know me.” I had my doubts about this, but decided to keep them to myself. We finished the meal in silence, and then Ford beckoned me out into the mill-room. “Do you want me to stay with you to-night?” he asked. “Won’t it be too much of an inconvenience?” “Not at all. I’ll go down to the house, and let the folks know, and then come right back.” “If you do you’ll have to sleep with me, for I’ll have to give the spare bed to Mr. Norton,” I said. “I won’t mind that if you don’t,” replied the mill-hand. So the matter was settled. If Mr. Norton heard of it he did not say anything, and for the remainder of the evening things ran smoothly. Before we retired I had learned many things that are not necessary to repeat here. Mr. Norton told of how he and my father had met in Chicago, how my father had begged of him to advance him money from time to time, and how the two had started together for South Dakota. He was a fluent talker, and I grew quite interested, though I did not exactly believe all that was told me. We were all up early the next morning, and Ford and I prepared breakfast. Before eating, Mr. Norton applied himself again to the bottle, and asked the mill-hand if there was a good tavern at the Bend; to which Ford replied that there was a tavern, but whether good or bad he did not know, as he had never stopped there. “Got any grinding to do?” “Enough to keep us running till noon.” “And after that?” “We’ll have to wait for something to come in,” I replied. “Then, Ford, we can get along without you,” continued Mr. Norton. “In the future Reuben and I will do all the work.” “All right,” said the mill-hand, seeing that there was nothing else to be done. “How about my wages?” and he winked at me. “How much is coming to you?” “Eight dollars.” “Reuben, have you the money?” “No, sir; as I said before, I haven’t a dollar.” Mr. Norton thought for a moment, and then got out his pocket-book. “Here you are,” he said. “Give me a receipt. I will have to charge the amount against the estate.” “Then I don’t want it,” said Ford. “I’m not going to rob Rube of what little is coming to him.” “Take it, Dan,” I said. “You’ve earned it.” And I compelled him to put the money in his pocket. Then the receipt was written out, and this Mr. Norton placed carefully in his notebook. “Now we are done with you,” he said. “If I ever need you in the future I will send Reuben for you. I suppose you never thought of buying the mill, did you?” “I haven’t got the money,” replied Ford. “The reason I asked is because the place may be up for sale,” went on Mr. Norton; “if so, it ought to be a pretty good investment for you.” “It might be,” said Ford.