, and the next day and for
days succeeding he went about his work, humming what he supposed to be
a tune. Two weeks dragged along and the time for the marriage was
approaching. Every day or so the young fellow would drive out into the
country to argue with the old man. He had rented a cottage and had
furnished it and he pleaded the crime of permitting it to stand there
empty of the two hearts that yearned to inhabit it. The old man
acknowledged the logic of the argument, but swore that he could not
have it said that he was anxious to get rid of his girl; and Warren
always agreed to this, at the time of its emphatic utterance, but when
he had driven back to town, and put up his horse, a spirit of
rebellion would arise and back he would go the next day to renew the
contest.

One night when Lyman went home he found old man Staggs in the
sitting-room waiting for him. "I've got something to tell you," said
the old man.

Lyman's heart jumped. "Has she returned?" he asked.

"Has who returned?"

"Why, Mrs. McElwin and her daughter?"

"Oh, I reckon not."

"Then what did you want to tell me?"

"I want to tell you that I won't drink any more."

"You told me that some time ago."

"Yes, but under different circumstances. When I told you, I was sick
and wouldn't have touched a drop if a barrel full had been under my
nose; but I tell you now when I am well. Do you know the reason why I
am so strong in the faith now? Of course you don't, and that is what I
am going to tell you. I was out in the stable this evening and I found
a bottle of liquor. Blast me if I hadn't been wanting it all day. But
what did I do? I went out and threw the bottle--and the liquor--as far
as I could send it, and I heard it squash in the street. And now I
want to ask you if that wasn't nerve."

Lyman summoned his patience and agreed that it was nerve, and the old
man continued. "I told my wife about it, but she didn't believe me.
And now what I want you to do is to convince her that it is a fact.
You can do it with a clear conscience, for I will swear to it. The
fact is there's going to be a reunion of the old home guard at
Downer's grove, about fifteen miles from here, and I want to go. I
went last year and--well, I fell, somewhat. But I wouldn't fall this
time, and I want you to tell Tobithy and Annie to let me go."

"And what if you come home drunk?"

"Lyman," said the old man, puffing up, "I have always stood as your
friend. I have got out