oads on the provisions warned him that it
was time to stop. Meanwhile they had ranged the fields of old
times at random, and as Red took in Miss Mattie, pink with
excitement and sparkling as to eyes, he thought, "Blast the supper!
It's a square meal just to look at her. If she ain't pretty good
people, I miss my guess."

It was a merry meal. He had such a way of telling things! Miss
Mattie hadn't laughed so much for years, and she felt that there
was no one that she had known so long and so well as Cousin Will.
There was only one jarring note. Red spoke of the vigorous
celebration that had been followed by the finding of gold. It was
certainly well told, but Miss Mattie asked in soft horror when he
had finished, "You didn't get--_intoxicated_--Will?"

"DID I?" said he, lost in memory, and not noticing the tone.
"Well, I put my hand down the throat of that man's town, and turned
her inside out! It was like as if Christmas and Fourth of July had
happened on the same day."

"Oh, Will!" cried Miss Mattie, "I can't think of you like
that--rolling in the gutter." Her voice shook and broke off. Her
knowledge of the effect of stimulants was limited to Fairfield's
one drunkard--old Tommy McKee, a disreputable old Irishman--but
drunkenness was the worst vice in her world.

"Rolling in the gutter!" cried Red, in astonishment. "Why girl!
What for would I roll in the gutter? What's the fun in that?
Jiminy Christmas! I wanted to walk on the telegraph wires--there
wasn't anything in that town high enough for me--what put gutters
into your head?"

"I--I supposed people did that when they were--like that."

"I wouldn't waste my money on whisky, if that's all the inspiration
I got out of it," replied Red.

"Well, of course I don't know about those things, but I wish you'd
promise me one thing."

"Done!" cried Red. "What is it?"

"I wish you'd promise me not to touch whisky again!"

"Phew! That's a pretty big order!" He stopped and thought a
minute. "If you'll make that 'never touch it when it ain't
needed,' leaving when it's needed to what's my idea of the square
thing on a promise, I'll go you, Mattie--there's my hand."

"Oh, I shouldn't have said anything at all, Will! I have no right.
But it seemed such a pity such a splendid man--I mean--I think--.
You mustn't promise me anything, Will," stammered Miss Mattie,
shocked at her own daring.

"Here!" he cried, "I'm no little kid! When I promise I mean it!