night," Ollie ventured, as Morgan's
feet sounded on the stairs.

"No, I guess not," Joe agreed, staring thoughtfully at the black oblong
of the door.

"If he does come, I don't suppose it'll hurt him to eat something cold,"
she said.

"I'll wait up a while longer. If he comes I can warm up the coffee for
him," Joe offered.

"Then I'll go to bed, too," she yawned wearily.

"Yes, you'd better go," said he.

Ollie's room, which was Isom's also when he was there, was in the front
of the house, upstairs. Joe heard her feet along the hall, and her door
close after her. Morgan was still tramping about in the room next to
Joe's, where he slept. It was the best room in the house, better than
the one shared by Isom and his wife, and in the end of the house
opposite to it. Joe sat quietly at the table until Morgan's complaining
bed-springs told him that the guest had retired. Then he mounted the
narrow kitchen stairs to his own chamber.

Joe sat on the edge of his bed and pulled off his boots, dropping them
noisily on the floor. Then, with shirt and trousers on, he drew the
quilt from his bed, took his pillow under his arm, and opened the door
into the hall which divided the house from end to end.

The moon was shining in through the double window in the end toward
Ollie's room; it lay on the white floor, almost as bright as the sun.
Within five feet of that splash of moonlight Joe spread his quilt. There
he set his pillow and stretched his long body diagonally across the
narrow hall, blocking it like a gate.

Joe roused Morgan next morning at dawn, and busied himself with making a
fire in the kitchen stove and bringing water from the well until the
guest came down to feed his horse. Morgan was in a crusty humor. He had
very little to say, and Joe did not feel that the world was any poorer
for his silence.

"This will be my last meal with you," announced Morgan at breakfast.
"I'll not be back tonight."

Ollie was paler than usual, Joe noticed, and a cloud of dejection seemed
to have settled over her during the night. She did not appear to be
greatly interested in Morgan's statement, although she looked up from
her breakfast with a little show of friendly politeness. Joe thought
that she did not seem to care for the agent; the tightness in his breast
was suddenly and gratefully eased.

"You haven't finished out your week, there'll be something coming to you
on what you've paid in advance," said she.

"Let that go,