ouldn't put no luther on him,' said Uncle Eb, 'God's gin'
'im a good 'nuff harness.'

The judges came and looked him over.

'Guess he'll win the prize all right,' said one of them.

And he did. When we came home that evening every horse on the road
thought himself a trotter and went speeding to try his pace with
everything that came up beside him. And many a man of Faraway, that we
passed, sent up a shout of praise for the Black Hawk.

But I was thinking of Hope and the dance at Rickard's. I had plenty of
money now and my next letter urged her to come home at once.

Chapter 24

Hope returned for a few days late in August. Invitations were just
issued for the harvest dance at Rickard's.

'You mus' take 'er,' said Uncle Eb, the day she came. 'She's a purty
dancer as a man ever see. Prance right up an' tell 'er she mus' go. Don'
want 'O let anyone git ahead O' ye.'

'Of course I will go,' she said in answer to my invitation, 'I shouldn't
think you were a beau worth having if you did not ask me.'

The yellow moon was peering over Woody Ledge when we went away that
evening. I knew it was our last pleasure seeking in Faraway, and the
crickets in the stubble filled the silence with a kind of mourning.

She looked so fine in her big hat and new gown with its many dainty
accessories of lace and ribbon, adjusted with so much patting and
pulling, that as she sat beside me, I hardly dared touch her for fear of
spoiling something. When she shivered a little and said it was growing
cool I put my arm about her, and, as I drew her closer to my side, she
turned her hat, obligingly, and said it was a great nuisance.

I tried to kiss her then, but she put her hand over my mouth and said,
sweetly, that I would spoil everything if I did that.

'I must not let you kiss me, William,' she said, 'not--not for all in
the world. I'm sure you wouldn't have me do what I think is wrong--would
you?'

There was but one answer to such an appeal, and I made myself as happy
as possible feeling her head upon my shoulder and her soft hair touching
my cheek. As I think of it now the trust she put in me was something
sublime and holy.

'Then I shall talk about--about our love,' I said, 'I must do
something.'

'Promised I wouldn't let you,' she said. Then she added after a moment
of silence, 'I'll tell you what you may do--tell me what is your ideal
in a woman--the one you would love best of all. I don't think that would
be wicked--do y