es. Mike
says ye got some chances ye don't know about; HE swears ye'll be the
next Mayor of Canaan."

"Nonsense! Folly and nonsense, Happy! That's the kind of thing I used
to think when I was a boy. But now--pshaw!" Joe broke off with a tired
laugh. "Tell them not to waste their time. Are you going out to the
Beach this afternoon?"

The little man lowered his eyes moodily. "I'll be near there," he
said, scraping his patched shoe up and down the curbstone. "That
feller's in town agin."

"What fellow?"

"'Nashville' they call him; Ed's the name he give the hospital:
Cory--him that I soaked the night you come back to Canaan. He's after
Claudine to git his evens with me. He's made a raise somewheres, and
plays the spender. And her--well, I reckon she's tired waitin' table
at the National House; tired o' me, too. I got a hint that they're
goin' out to the Beach together this afternoon."

Joe passed his hand wearily over his aching forehead. "I understand,"
he said, "and you'd better try to. Cory's laying for you, of course.
You say he's after your wife? He must have set about it pretty openly
if they're going to the Beach to-day, for there is always a crowd there
on Sundays. Is it hard for you to see why he's doing it? It's because
he wants to make you jealous. What for? So that you'll tackle him
again. And why does he want that? Because he's ready for you!"

The other's eyes suddenly became bloodshot, his nostrils expanding
incredibly. "READY, is he? He BETTER be ready. I--"

"That's enough!" Joe interrupted, swiftly. "We'll have no talk like
that. I'll settle this for you, myself. You send word to Claudine
that I want to see her at my office to-morrow morning, and you--you
stay away from the Beach to-day. Give me your word."

Mr. Fear's expression softened. "All right, Joe," he said. "I'll do
whatever you tell me to. Any of us 'll do that; we sure know who's our
friend."

"Keep out of trouble, Happy." Joe turned to go and they shook hands.
"Good day, and--keep out of trouble!"

When he had gone, Mr. Fear's countenance again gloomed ominously, and,
shaking his head, he ruminatively entered an adjacent bar through the
alley door.

The Main Street bridge was an old-fashioned, wooden, covered one,
dust-colored and very narrow, squarely framing the fair, open country
beyond; for the town had never crossed the river. Joe found the cool
shadow in the bridge gracious to his hot brow, and