e said, "that bargain
was made long BEFORE; I never saw 'Lige Curtis after you came to the
house. It was before that, in the afternoon," he went on hurriedly,
"that he was last in my store. I can prove it." Nevertheless he was so
shocked and indignant at being confronted in his own suppressions and
falsehoods by an even greater and more astounding misconception of
fact, that for a moment he felt helpless. What, he reflected, if it were
alleged that 'Lige had returned again after the loafers had gone, or had
never left the store as had been said? Nonsense! There was John Milton,
who had been there reading all the time, and who could disprove it. Yes,
but John Milton was his discarded son,--his enemy,--perhaps even his
very slanderer!

"But," said Grant quietly, "don't you remember that your daughter
Euphemia said something that evening about the land Lige had OFFERED
you, and you snapped up the young lady rather sharply for letting out
secrets, and THEN you went out? At least that's my impression."

It was, however, more than an impression; with Grant's scientific memory
for characteristic details he had noticed that particular circumstance
as part of the social phenomena.

"I don't know what Phemie SAID," returned Harcourt, impatiently. "I KNOW
there was no offer pending; the land had been sold to me before I ever
saw you. Why--you must have thought me up to pretty sharp practice with
Curtis--eh?" he added, with a forced laugh.

Grant smiled; he had been accustomed to hear of such sharp practice
among his business acquaintance, although he himself by nature and
profession was incapable of it, but he had not deemed Harcourt more
scrupulous than others. "Perhaps so," he said lightly, "but for Heaven's
sake don't ask me to spoil my reputation as a raconteur for the sake of
a mere fact or two. I assure you it's a mighty taking story as I tell
it--and it don't hurt you in a business way. You're the hero of it--hang
it all!"

"Yes," said Harcourt, without noticing Grant's half cynical superiority,
"but you'll oblige me if you won't tell it again IN THAT WAY. There are
men here mean enough to make the worst of it. It's nothing to me, of
course, but my family--the girls, you know--are rather sensitive."

"I had no idea they even knew it,--much less cared for it," said Grant,
with sudden seriousness. "I dare say if those fellows in the 'Clarion'
knew that they were annoying the ladies they'd drop it. Who's the
editor? Loo