?"

"But I don't see how a man can be almost a gentleman. You might as well
say that a man almost has money."

"Bobbie, don't try to climb over that stump. There's a poison vine on
it. Money is not everything, George."

"Comes devilish near it."

"No, George. Money is not love."

"Well, I don't know about that," he said, in a way implying that he did
know.

"Don't be cynical, dear," she replied. "We are both young; we have
everything before us."

"Everything we had is behind us."

She pulled upon his arm, and kissed his dry cheek. "Don't be downcast.
Everything will come right."

Mitchell, the hired man, came out upon the veranda. "A sappy pea-vine
and a dried pea-stick," said Milford, pointing toward George and his
wife.

"He looks like he's tired," said the hired man.

"Yes, a fly in a pot of jam. She's too sweet for him. He ought to break
loose from her and run wild for a while--ought to rough it out West on
fat sow bosom and heifer's delight. Never were married, were you, Bob?"

"Well, not for any length of time. I did marry a girl over near Antioch
once, but shortly afterwards they took me up for sellin' liquor without
a license, and when I got through with the scrape I found my wife was
gone with a feller to Kansas."

"Did you ever hear of her?"

"Oh, yes, she writ to me. She wanted to come back, but I scratched her
word that I'd try to jog along without her. I don't guess women are
exactly what they used to be. I reckon the bicycle has changed 'em a
good bit."

"They want money, Bob. That's what's the matter with 'em."

"Well, they've got about all I ever had, them and liquor together, and
still they don't seem to be satisfied. Ever married, Bill?"

"No. But I was on the edge of falling in love once. She squirted poison
at me out of her eyes, and I shook in the knees. Her smile kept me awake
two nights, and on the third morning I got on my pony, said good-bye to
the settlement, and rode as hard as I could. I don't suppose she really
saw me--but I saw her, and that was enough. Well, I believe I'll go over
and chin the old woman."

Mrs. Stuvic was walking up and down the yard. A number of new boarders
had arrived, and she was in a great flurry. She was ever on the lookout
for new-comers, but was never prepared for them. She told every one to
keep still; she spoke in bywords that barked the shins of profanity.
Just as Milford came up, some one told her that her hired man was lying
out in the