ve a note for that pair of harrows you've got in the spring. I suppose
you wouldn't object to having it back, eh?"

"We . . . ll, since you put it in that way," drawled Judson with a
grin, "I reckon I might as well do it. A man must look out for his own
interests in these hard times."

Both saw Anne at this moment and conversation abruptly ceased. Anne
bowed frostily and walked on, with her chin slightly more tilted than
usual. Soon Judson Parker overtook her.

"Have a lift, Anne?" he inquired genially.

"Thank you, no," said Anne politely, but with a fine, needle-like
disdain in her voice that pierced even Judson Parker's none too
sensitive consciousness. His face reddened and he twitched his reins
angrily; but the next second prudential considerations checked him. He
looked uneasily at Anne, as she walked steadily on, glancing neither to
the right nor to the left. Had she heard Corcoran's unmistakable
offer and his own too plain acceptance of it? Confound Corcoran! If
he couldn't put his meaning into less dangerous phrases he'd get
into trouble some of these long-come-shorts. And confound redheaded
school-ma'ams with a habit of popping out of beechwoods where they had
no business to be. If Anne had heard, Judson Parker, measuring her corn
in his own half bushel, as the country saying went, and cheating himself
thereby, as such people generally do, believed that she would tell
it far and wide. Now, Judson Parker, as has been seen, was not overly
regardful of public opinion; but to be known as having accepted a bribe
would be a nasty thing; and if it ever reached Isaac Spencer's ears
farewell forever to all hope of winning Louisa Jane with her comfortable
prospects as the heiress of a well-to-do farmer. Judson Parker knew
that Mr. Spencer looked somewhat askance at him as it was; he could not
afford to take any risks.

"Ahem . . . Anne, I've been wanting to see you about that little matter we
were discussing the other day. I've decided not to let my fences to
that company after all. A society with an aim like yours ought to be
encouraged."

Anne thawed out the merest trifle.

"Thank you," she said.

"And . . . and . . . you needn't mention that little conversation of mine
with Jerry."

"I have no intention of mentioning it in any case," said Anne icily, for
she would have seen every fence in Avonlea painted with advertisements
before she would have stooped to bargain with a man who would sell his
vote.

"J