ard the house.

The Harvester sat on the log and tried to think; but there are times
when the numbed brain refuses to work, so he really sat and suffered.
Belshazzar whimpered and licked his hands, and at last the man arose
and went with the dog to the wagon. As they came through Onabasha, Betsy
turned at the hospital corner, but the Harvester pulled her around and
drove toward the country. Not until they crossed the railroad did he
lift his head and then he drew a deep breath as if starved for pure air
and spoke. "Not to-day Betsy! I can't face my friends just now. Someway
I am making an awful fist of things. Everything I do is wrong. She no
more trusts me than you would a rattlesnake, Belshazzar; and from all
appearance she takes me to be almost as deadly. What must have been her
experiences in life to ingrain fear and distrust in her soul at that
rate? I always knew I was not handsome, but I never before regarded my
appearance as alarming. And I 'fixed up,' too!"

The Harvester grinned a queer little twist of a grin that pulled and
distorted his strained face. "Might as well have gone with a week's
beard, a soiled shirt, and a leer! And I've always been as decent as I
knew! What's the reward for clean living anyway, if the girl you love
strikes you like that?"

Belshazzar reached across and kissed him. The Harvester put his arm
around the dog. In the man's disappointment and heart hunger he leaned
his head against the beast and said, "I've always got you to love and
protect me, anyway, Belshazzar. Maybe the man who said a dog was a man's
best friend was right. You always trusted me, didn't you Bel? And you
never regretted it but once, and that wasn't my fault. I never did it!
If I did, I'm getting good and well paid for it. I'd rather be kicked
until all the ribs of one side are broken, Bel, than to swallow the dose
she just handed me. I tell you it was bitter, lad! What am I going to
do? Can't you help me, Bel?"

Belshazzar quivered in anxiety to offer the comfort he could not speak.

"Of course you are right! You always are, Bel!" said the Harvester. "I
know what you are trying to tell me. Sure enough, she didn't have any
dream. I am afraid she had the bitterest reality. She hasn't been loving
a vision of me, working and searching for me, and I don't mean to her
what she does to me. Of course I see that I must be patient and bide my
time. If there is anything in 'like begetting like' she is bound to care
for m