ung man--he became interested in residence
property, in lots, and in the cost of erecting dwellings.... Scattergood
looked in vain for reciprocal symptoms to be shown by Sarah. But Sarah
was a woman. What symptoms she exhibited were meaningless even to
Scattergood.

"Bob," said Scattergood, one auspicious day, "got any pref'rence for
prosecutin' attorneys--married or single?"

"It depends," said Bob, cautiously.

"Um!... How's Sairy behavin', Bob?"

"She's--she's--" Bob became incoherent, and then speechless.

"Calc'late I foller you, Bob.... Git your point of view exact.... About
prosecutin' attorneys, Bob, I prefer 'em married."

"Mr. Baines," said Bob, "if I could get Sarah Pound to marry me, I
wouldn't give a tinker's dam who was prosecutor."

"Mishandlin' of fact sim'lar to that," said Scattergood, dryly, "has
been done nigh on to a billion times.... Any idee how Sairy stands on
sich a proposition?"

"She's about equally fond of me and the letter press," said Bob,
dolefully.

"Good sign," said Scattergood. Then after a short pause: "Say, Bob,
still rent out drivin' bosses at the livery?... G'-by, Bob."

Bob was astonished to find how easy it is to ask a girl to go driving
the second time--after you have spent an anxious, dubious, fearsome day
screwing up your courage to ask her the first time. He was delighted,
too, because he even fancied Sarah now discriminated between him and the
letter press--in his favor. Bob came fresh and unsophisticated to the
business in hand, which was courtship. Sarah had never before been
courted, but she recognized a courtship when she saw it at such close
range, and found it delightfully exciting. Bob did his clumsy, earnest,
honest best, and Sarah, somewhat to her surprise, became more satisfied
with the universe and with her share in its destinies.... In short,
matters were progressing as nature intended they should progress, and
Scattergood felt almost that they might be trusted to go forward to a
satisfactory denouement without his interference.

Then old Solon Beatty died!

This solved one of Bob Allen's problems; it furnished plenty of
authentic work for Sarah Pound--for Bob was retained as attorney for old
Solon's estate, which he found to be in an amazing state of confusion.
Old Solon left behind him, reluctantly, property of divers kinds, and in
numerous localities, valued at upward of a hundred thousand dollars,
split and invested into as many enterprises and