ill. But isn't that glorious news from George? Oh, you don't know
how low-spirited he was. Sometimes I thought he never would get up
again. Don't you know that just a word, even though lightly spoken, may
sometimes spur one to renewed action? Oh, it's undoubtedly a fact."

"Yes, words may sometimes be ashes, but often they are coals of fire.
Will you please--"

"Oh, that's a good sentiment. I must remember it and tell George. He'll
be out again Saturday evening. But I'll go and tell Mrs. Stuvic that you
want to see--that's the man coming out now."

A strong-looking man came walking out toward the gate. Mrs. Blakemore
stepped aside, and he was about to pass when Milford said: "Your name is
Dorsey, I understand."

"That's it," the man replied, taking a toothpick out of his mouth.

"I'd like to see you a moment on business; over in the grove."

"What's your name?"

"Come over into the grove. I want to see you a moment. My name's
Milford."

"Do you want to see me about a horse? I want to hire one. Is that it?"

"Yes, over in the grove."

"All right. Got him there? I don't care whether he's gentle or not. I
can manage him all right. The first thing one of you farmers tells a
fellow is that his horse is gentle, when he knows that all he wants is
an opportunity to run away. So you may save yourself that trouble."

Milford conducted him to a spot out of view from the house. He halted
and threw his hat on the ground. He told him what the hired man had
said.

"Well," said Dorsey, "this is a fine proceeding."

"Take off your coat."

"What are you going to do?"

"Whip you if I can."

"But I'm not looking for any trouble."

"You may not have looked for it, but you've found it."

"Say, this is all nonsense. You won't tell me what I said, and I don't
remember. But let me tell you something. You can't whip me. I can mop
the earth with you--my way. Is that the way you want to fight?"

"Yes. _My_ way would mean something. But it won't do in this country.
Take off your coat."

The fellow was an athlete. Milford was no match for him. He had the
strength, but not the skill in boxing. But once Milford got him down,
ran under and snatched his feet from under him. In a moment, though, he
was up again, meeting strength with skill. Three times he knocked
Milford down. It was useless to continue to fight. Milford held up his
hands. "We'll call it off for the present," he said, panting.

"Suit yourself. I've got nothing