e not afraid, perhaps, to go into the dark alone?"

"No."

"By your own hand?"

"No," again, very slowly. Arnold understood now.

"You swear?" Ichabod flashed a glance with the question.

"I swear."

"And I."

A moment they both studied the sputtering candle.

"It'll be within fifteen minutes," randomed Ichabod.

Arnold drew out his watch slowly.

"It'll be longer."

That was all. Each had made his choice; a trivial matter of one second
in the candle's life would decide which of these two men would die by
his own hand.

For a minute there was no sound. They could not even hear their
breathing. Then Arnold cleared his throat.

"You didn't say when the loser must pay his debt," he suggested.

Ichabod's voice in answer was a trifle husky.

"It won't be necessary." A vision of the future flashed, sinister,
inevitable. "The man who loses won't care to face the necessity
long."

Five minutes more passed. Down the street the blacksmith was hammering
steadily. Beneath the window the group of farmers had separated; their
departing footsteps tapping into distance and silence.

Minna went to the street door, calling loudly for Hans, Jr., who had
strayed,--and both men started at the sound. The quick catch of their
breathing was now plainly audible.

Arnold shifted in his chair.

"You swear--" his voice rang unnaturally sharp, and he paused to
moisten his throat,--"you swear before God you'll abide by this?"

"I swear before God," repeated Ichabod slowly.

A second, and the little man followed in echo.

"And I--I swear, I, too, will abide."

Neither man remembered that one of this twain, who gave oath before
the Deity, was an agnostic, the other an atheist!

A lonely south wind was rising, and above the tinkle of the
blacksmith's hammer there sounded the tap of the light shade as
it flapped in the wind against the window-pane. Low, drowsy,
moaning,--typical breath of prairie,--it droned through the
loosely built house, with sound louder, but not unlike the perpetual
roar of a great sea-shell.

Ten minutes passed, and the men sat very still. Both their faces were
white, and in the angle of the jaw of each the muscles were locked
hard. Ichabod was leaning near the candle. It sputtered and a tiny
globule of hot tallow struck his face. He winced and wiped the drop
off quickly. Observing, Arnold smiled and opened his lips as if to
make comment; then closed them suddenly, and the smile passed.

Two min