s was, for a debtor, an unpardonable offense.

"Charnock's trouble is that he's not quite straight. Ought to have
stayed with me, told me how he was fixed, and let me see what I could
do. If he's going to deal with the new man, I'd better pull him up and
try to get my money back."

"You can't get it," said Keller dryly. "He can't pay now, and if you let
him go on until harvest, you'll have a crowd of others with long bills
fighting for what's left."

"Looks like that," the dealer agreed. "Well, I'd have liked to keep him
going if he'd stayed with me, but I can't stand for losing the dollars
he owes. What are we going to do about the thing?"

Keller explained his plans, and after some argument the other agreed.
The decision they came to would bring Charnock's farming to an end,
but Keller left the office with some doubts. His scheme was going to
succeed, but he wondered whether he had indulged Sadie too far. Much
depended on her firmness, and she might find the job harder than she
thought; but on the whole he imagined she would be equal to the strain.

A week later, Charnock sat, one afternoon, in the saddle of his
gang-plow, tearing a row of furrows through the dusty sod. The sweating
horses moved leisurely, and he did not urge them as he moodily watched
the tangled grass part before the shares and vanish beneath the polished
surface of the turned-up clods. He was breaking new soil, doing work
that would be paid for in the future, and knew the reward of his labor
might never be his. When he reached the end of the plowing he stopped
and let the horses rest while he looked about.

One side of the long furrows gleamed in the strong light, and another
team was moving towards him from the opposite end. The sun was hot, but
the wind was fresh, and thin clouds of dust blew across the plain. Still
the belt he was plowing was good soil; the firm black _gumbo_ that holds
the moisture the wheat plant needs. There was something exhilarating in
the rushing breeze and glow of light, but Charnock frowned and wondered
why he had worked so long. He had no real hope, and admitted that he had
continued his spasmodic efforts because he could not face defeat.

For all that, he had not been fighting entirely for his farm. He
wanted to keep his freedom; to break through trammels that were getting
tighter, and try to regain something that he had lost. Sometimes he felt
desperate, but now and then saw an elusive ray of hope. If he could h