THREE days later, towards sundown, as Pole was about to enter Floyd & Mayhew's store, the old man came from! behind one of the counters and, with a smile of welcome, caught his arm and drew him to the edge of the sidewalk.

“I am not much of a hand to talk on any subject, Pole,” he said. “But there is something I've got to say to you, and it comes from the heart.”

“Well, ef it ain't a dun I'll be glad to hear it,” Pole smiled. “When I fust catched sight of you, it flashed over me that ef I didn't make another payment on that debt you'd have to take my farm. But I'm gettin' on my feet now, Mr. Mayhew, an'—”

“I'll never bother you on that score,” the merchant said, impulsively. “I was just about to tell you that I am deeply grateful for what you did for Nelson. Oh, he's told me all about it!” The old man held up his hand and stopped Pole, who was on the point of decrying his part in the matter in question. “Yes, he told me all you did, Baker, and I don't actually believe any other man in the whole state could have worked it so fine; and the boy's coming back here, Pole, has been my financial salvation. I couldn't have kept on here, and it would have killed me to see the old business fall to pieces.”

“You bet, I'm glad he's back, too,” Pole returned. “An' he's happy over it, ain't he, Mr. Mayhew?”

“Ah, there's the trouble, Baker!” the old man sighed. “It looks like, with all that has come his way of late, that he would be satisfied, but he isn't—he simply isn't. Baker, I think I see what's lacking.”

“You think you do, Mr. Mayhew?” Pole leaned forward anxiously.

“Yes, I believe it's due to Nathan Porter's daughter. God knows she's the very girl for him. She's one woman that I admire with all my heart. Nelson's got sense; he sees her good qualities, and wants her, but the report is out that her and Hillhouse are courting down at Cartersville. The preacher's had two weeks' extension on his vacation, and they tell me he is cutting a wide swath. Folks down there are raving over his bright sermons, and naturally that will flatter and influence a woman's judgment. Besides, I really believe the average woman would rather marry a mountain circuit-rider on three hundred a year than a man in easy circumstances in any other calling.”

“I don't know as to that,” Pole said, evasively. “Nobody kin pick an' choose fer a woman. Ef I had a dozen gals I'd keep my mouth shet on the husband line. That's old man Dickey's policy, over at Darley; he has ten gals that he says has married men in every line o' business under the sun. The last one come to 'im an' declared she wanted to marry a tight-rope walker that was exhibitin' in the streets. That sorter feazed the old chap, and he told the gal that her husband never could rise but jest so high in the world an' was shore to come down sooner or later, but she was the doctor an' to go ahead. Even that marriage turned out all right, fer one day the chap, all in stars an' spangles an' women's stockin's, fell off'n of a rope forty feet from the ground. He struck a load o' hay an' broke his fall, but on his way down he seed the sale sign of a grocery across the street an' bought the business, an' now Dickey's gettin' his supplies at wholesale prices.”

Turning from the old man, Pole passed the clerks and a few customers in the store and went back to Floyd's desk, where his friend sat writing.

“Got yore workin' gear on I see,” he observed, with a smile. “You look busy.”

Floyd pointed to a stack of account-books on the desk and smiled. “The old man got these in an awful mess,” he said. “But I am getting them straight at last.”

“How's business?” Pole asked.

“In the store, pretty good,” Floyd answered; “but as for my own part, I'm busy on the outside. I closed a nice deal yesterday, Pole. You remember the offer I made Price for his plantation, furnished house, and everything else on the place?”

“You bet.”

“Well, he came to my terms. The property is mine at last, Pole.”

“Gee whiz! what a purty investment! It's a little fortune, my boy.”

“Yes, it's the sort of thing I've wanted for a long time,” Floyd returned. “Most men have their hobbies, and mine has always been to possess a model farm that I could keep up to the highest notch of perfection for my own pleasure and as an inspiration to my neighbors.”

“Bully, bully place, Nelson! You'll always be proud of it.”

“There's only one drawback,” said Floyd; “you see, it will never suit me to live there myself, and so I've got to get a sharp manager that I can trust.”

“Ah yes, you bet you have!” Pole declared.

“And such a man is hard to find, Pole.”

“Huh, I should think so!” the farmer answered. “Captain Duncan told me he fell behind three thousand dollars in one year all on account of his manager being careless while nobody was there to watch 'im.

“He never paid his man enough,” Nelson said. “I shall not follow that plan. I'm going to pay my superintendent a good, stiff salary, so as to make it interesting to him. Pole, there is only one man alive that I'd trust that place to.”

Pole stared in a bewildered way. Floyd was leading him beyond his depth.

“You say thar ain't, Nelson?” was all he could say.

“And that man is you, Pole.”

“Me? Good Lord, you are plumb cracked—you are a-jokin', Nelson.”

“No, I never was more serious in my life. If I can't get you to take that place in hand for me, I shall sell it to the first bidder. Pole, I'm depending on you. The salary is three thousand a year, rent of the house free, and all the land you want for your own use thrown in.”

“Three thousand! Geewhilikins,” Pole laughed.

“I'd be a purty lookin' chump drawin' that much of any man's money.”

“You'll draw that much of mine,” Floyd said, looking him straight in the eye, “and you will make me the best financial return for it of any man in the world.”

“That's ridiculous, Nelson, you are plumb, stark crazy!” Pole was really frowning in displeasure over he hardly knew what.

“No, I'm not crazy, either,” Floyd pursued, laying his hand on the farmer's shoulder. “You've often said that I have a good head for business, well—that's exactly what's causing me to make you this proposition.”

“You are a liar, an' you know it!” Pole growled. “You know you are a-doin' it beca'se you want to help me'n' my family, and, by the holy smoke, I won't let you. Thar! I'm flat-footed on that! I won't let you. Friendship is one thing an' takin' money from a friend is some'n' else. It's low down, I'm here to tell you. It's low down, even ef a body is on the ragged edge o' poverty, fer ever' man ort to work fer hisse'f.”

“Look here, Pole, I get out of patience with you sometimes,” Floyd said, earnestly. “Now, answer this: don't you know that if you did accept my offer that you would not let my interests suffer wilfully?”

“Of course I do, damn it!” Pole retorted, almost angrily. “Ef I was workin' fer you in any capacity I'd wear my fingers to the bone to do what was right by you.”

“Well, there you are!” Floyd cried, triumphantly. “Wouldn't I be a pretty fool not to try to employ you, when not one man in ten thousand will be that conscientious? You've answered yourself, Pole. I'm going to have you on that job if I have to double the pay.”

“Well, you won't git me, that's certain!” Pole retorted. “You are offerin' it to me fer no other reason than that we are friends, an' I'll be damned ef I take it.”

“Look here, Pole Baker,” Floyd smiled, as he left his high stool, locked his arm in that of his companion, and drew him to the open door in the rear. “You have several times given me lectures that have done me more solid good than all the sermons I ever heard, and it's my time now.”

“All right, shoot away!” Pole laughed. “The truth is, I feel derned mean about some o' the things I've said to you when I look back on 'em.”

“Well, you've shown me many of my biggest faults, Pole, and I am going to dangle one of yours before your eyes. I've seen you, my friend, take money that your reason told you was needed by your wife and children, whom you love devotedly, and, in a sort of false pride, I've seen you spend it on men of the lowest order. You did it under the mistaken notion that it was your time to treat. In other words, you seemed possessed with the idea that you owed that crowd more than you did that tender, trusting little woman and her children.”

“Damn it, you needn't remind me of that, Nelson Floyd! I know that as well as any man alive!” Pole's face was full, and his voice husky with suppressed emotion.

“I know you know it, Pole, and here is something else you'll have to admit, and that is, that you are this minute refusing something that would fairly fill your wife with happiness, and you are doing it under the damnably false notion that such deals should not be made between friends. Why, man, friends are the only persons who ought to have intimate business relations. It is only friends who can work for mutual benefit.”

“Oh, I can't argue with you,” Pole said, stubbornly, and he turned suddenly and walked down through the store to the front. Floyd was watching him, and saw him pause on the edge of the sidewalk, his head down, as if in deep meditation. He was a pathetic-looking figure as he stood with the red sunset sky behind him, his face flushed, his hair thrown back from his massive brow.

Taking his hat, Floyd went out and took him by the arm, and together they strolled down the street in the direction of Pole's farm. Presently Floyd said: “Surely you are not going to go back on me, Pole. I want you, and I want you bad.”

“Thar's one thing you reminded me of in thar at the desk,” Pole said, in a low, shaky voice, “and it is this: Nelson, the little woman I married hain't never had one single hour o' puore joy since the day I tuck 'er from her daddy's house. Lord, Lord, Nelson, ef I could—ef I jest could go home to 'er now an' tell 'er I'd got a lift in the world like that the joy of it 'ud mighty nigh kill 'er.”

“Well, Pole”—Floyd suddenly drew him around till they stood face to face—“you do it. Do you hear me? You do it. If you don't, you will be taking an unfair advantage of a helpless woman. It's her right, Pole. You haven't a word to say in the matter. The house will be vacant to-morrow. Move her in, Pole; move the little woman in and make her happy.”

The eyes of the two men met. Pole took a deep, lingering breath, then he held out his hand.

“I'll go you, Nelson,” he said; “and ef I don't make that investment pay, I'll hang myself to the limb of a tree. Gee whiz! won't Sally be tickled!”

They parted; Floyd turned back towards the village, and Pole went on homeward with a quick, animated step. Floyd paused at the roadside and looked after him through the gathering dusk.

“He's happy, and so will his wife be,” he said to himself. “But as for me, that's another matter. She's going to marry Hillhouse. Great God, how strange that seems! Cynthia and that man living together as man and wife!”

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