hile I'm there, I may as well put for home. We can catch
the night train if you hurry."

"Wall, Square, I don't cotton to suddint changes: like to move when I
git a good ready. Ye put a man off his base, Darn--."

I checked his incipient profanity. "My friend, whether you like it or
not is in this case immaterial. I'll pay you for the time I meant to
stay, and all you like for the fifteen miles. But be quick, now."

While he was hunting strings for his broken buckboard, I threw my traps
together, and scratched a line to Jim: called home by sudden press of
business, I said--and so it was, in a way. It is a long ride, but I had
enough to think of. At the depot I wired, "Hold the girls. I am coming
back." As I straightened up from this exercise, there was the old sinner
grinning malignantly over my shoulder. "Hodge," I said, "not a word
about the ladies to Mr. Hartman, mind," and I gave him an extra dollar.
This was another mistake, I suppose.

"Never you mind, Square: tain't me as goes back on my friends." What
could the old fool be thinking of? I would have given him some more
cautions, but the train came, and I was off.

You may imagine the reception at home. I tried to take a high hand, but
what can a man do against three women? "I really think, Robert," said
Mabel, "that since the girls had set their hearts on this excursion, you
might have indulged them." "The conceit of men!" cried Clarice; "what
had our coming to do with Mr. Hartman? Is he lord of the manor, that no
one may trespass on his demesne?" Jane too turned on me. "It was not
very kind of you, brother, to prefer a mere acquaintance above your own
sister, and suspect her motives in order to save his peace, forsooth!" I
knew it was humbug; but I had to eat no end of humble pie, all the same.
You may believe me or not--if you are a family man you will, without
difficulty--but I had to get those women apart, and explain things to
them one at a time, before I could have peace in the house. My own flesh
and blood were soon mollified; but Clarice has not forgiven me yet. I
have been on my knees to her, so to speak--most men do it, and she
expects it--but it is of no use. "My dear Clarice," said I, "you know I
would do anything in the world for you." "Yes," said she contemptuously,
"I've just had experience of it." "But you don't know Hartman." "Then
why couldn't you let me know him?" "But it wouldn't have done, under
these circumstances. He--I--." "Unhappy man