ople joined them in the street, and Festing, stealing away as a
crowd began to gather, went to the implement store, where he washed his
face and brushed his damaged clothes. There was a cut on his forehead
and his jacket was badly torn, while some of the soot that had fallen
upon it would not come off. After a rest and a smoke, however, he did
not feel much worse, and the dealer, going to the hotel, brought back
news that Wilkinson had driven home.

"I guess you have done all you could and can let the fellow go," he
said. "My notion is he won't be in the neighborhood long."

An hour later, Festing drove out of the settlement, with a strip of
sticking plaster on his forehead and his jacket clumsily mended. The sky
was now a curious leaden color, and the wild barley shone a livid white
against the dark riband of the trail; the air was very hot and there
was not a breath of wind. Festing noted that the horses were nervous and
trotted fast, although they had made a long journey. Now and then they
threw up their heads and snorted, and swerved violently when a gopher
ran across the trail or a prairie-hen got up. The flies seemed to have
gone, but the mosquitoes were out in clouds, and the hand with which
he slapped his face and neck was soon smeared with small red stains. He
could not hold the whip; but it was not needed, because the team rather
required to be checked than urged.

When the trail permitted he let them go, and swung, lost in gloomy
thoughts, with the jolting of the rig. The damaging part of Wilkinson's
statement was false, but since part was true the tale would spread and
some would believe the worst. It was impossible to doubt Helen, but he
was angry with her. She had let her ridiculous notion of reforming Bob
carry her away. Festing did not think Bob could be reformed, but it
was Sadie's business, not Helen's. Besides, he had objected to her
encouraging the fellow to hang about the homestead, and she had
disregarded his warnings. Now, the thing must be stopped, and it would
be horribly disagreeable to tell her why. She had been obstinate and
rash, but after all she meant well and would be badly hurt. He began to
feel sorry for her, and his angry thought's centered on Charnock.

It was, of course, ridiculous to imagine that Bob was seriously trying
to make love to Helen; he knew her character too well. All the same, the
fellow might amuse himself by mild indulgence in romantic sentiment. He
was a fool and a