with the sight of Johnnie.

Pap was breathing audibly through his open mouth.

"She--she never had nothin' made," he whispered out the ready lie
hurriedly, scrambling to his feet and down the steps, pressing close to
Roan Sultan's shoulder, laying a wheedling hand on the bridle, looking
up anxiously into the stern young face above him.

"Oh, yes, she did," Stoddard returned. "I remember, now, hearing some of
the children from the room say that she had a device which worked well.
From the description they gave of it, I judge that it is the same which
this letter tells me you and Buckheath are offering to the Alabama
mills. Mr. Trumbull, the superintendent, says that you and Buckheath
hold the patent for this Indicator jointly. As soon as I can consult
with Johnnie, we will see about the matter."

Himes let go the roan's bridle and staggered back a pace or two,
open-mouthed, staring. The skies had fallen. His heavy mind turned
slowly toward resentment against Buckheath. He wished the younger
conspirator were here to take his share. Then the door opened and Shade
himself came out wiping his mouth. He was fresh from the breakfast
table, but not on his way to the mill, since it was still too early. He
gave Stoddard a surly nod as he passed through the gate and on down the
street, in the direction of the Inn. Himes, in a turmoil of stupid
uncertainty, once or twice made as though to detain him. His slow wits
refused him any available counsel. Dazedly he fumbled for something
convincing to say. Then on a sudden inspiration, he once more laid hold
of the bridle and began to speak volubly in a hoarse undertone:

"W'y, name o' God, Mr. Stoddard! Who should have a better right to that
thar patent than Buck and me? I'm the gal's stepdaddy, an' he's the man
she's goin' to wed."

Some peculiar quality in the silence of Gray Stoddard seemed finally to
penetrate the old fellow's understanding. He looked up to find the man
on horseback regarding him, square-jawed, pale, and with eyes angrily
bright. He glanced over his shoulder at the windows of the house behind
him, moistened his lips once again, gulped, and finally resumed in a
manner both whining and aggressive.

"Now, Mr. Stoddard, I want to talk to you mighty plain. The whole o'
Cottonville is full o' tales about you and Johnnie. Yes--that's
the truth."

He stood staring down at his big, shuffling feet, laboriously sorting in
his own mind such phrases as it might do to us