rue. I deceived her too--she didn't really know who I was until less
than a week ago. Then she came home."

"Why didn't you come and tell me at first?" says Old Man Wright.

"How could I?" says he. "I knew what that would mean, from all Curly
said. Besides, I wanted to win her just for what I was--just for what
she was. I wanted to be sure she'd love me the way I wanted, for just
what I was. I'm sure now.

"But I was going to come and tell you; we came on now for that very
thing--the two of us, as you see. It wasn't any pleasure for me to
deceive either you or her--I never liked that any more than you did."

Old Man Wright he just set looking at him, and he couldn't talk. The
young fellow went on.

"I loved her the first time I saw her, sir," says he. "I resolved, the
first time I ever saw her, that sometime I'd marry her. I did. And we're
happy--we're happier than I ever thought anybody could be. How can you
bear a grudge against a girl like that--your own girl? She's only done
what she thought was right. And it was right too! And it goes!"

"So you're the son of this family!" says Old Man Wright, slow. "That
can't be helped, neither. I--well, I didn't know. I--I thought you
wanted her for her money. I'll go so far as to say that."

"It wouldn't of made any difference," says Bonnie Bell then. "I'd of
married him anyway. It's just like he says--he never told me about it
until just a little while ago. I thought he was some sort of a distant
relative of the Wisner family. If you stop to think you can see how all
these things happened easy enough. Especially you can when you stop to
think that, on foot and off a horse, Curly is apt to do more fool things
than a cageful of white rats--God bless him! Because nobody else but him
could of done just what he's done!"

"Well, it does seem to me," says I then, "that most of this happened
account of me. I reckon I made about as many fool breaks as any fellow
could," says I. "Like I told your pa, I couldn't see a load of hay. But
here's where I quit. It don't look like you need me no more, for things
is mixed up now as bad as they can get," says I.

"Keep still, Curly," says Bonnie Bell to me. "Set down!"

About then I seen them two old men looking at each other. Without saying
nothing, they both got up and went out into the parlor together. We
couldn't hear what they said. For that matter, we couldn't hear what we
said ourselfs, because of something that happened around i