talked much and there is no more to say to each other now.
I have served here patiently many years. If I leave thee for a little
while there is old Ben to wait and tend. And I will come back after I
have done my duty."

"I will stay alive so that I can bail thee out of prison," his father
informed him, sourly. "Go on, thou fool; learn thy lesson! The world is
all right as it is; it will cuff the ears of meddlers. But go on!"

"I would rather thee would show another spirit at parting--but have it
thy way," returned the son, with Quaker repression of all emotions. He
came forth from the gate.

"I am going thy road," he informed Farr, "because all ways are alike to
me. I would be pleased to talk with one who has journeyed. Thee may have
good counsel for me. May I walk with thee?"

The wayfarer opened his mouth and closed it suddenly on a half-spoken
and indignant refusal of this honor. He pursed his lips and his thick
brows drew together in a frown. Then, as if in spite of himself, he
began to smile.

"I will be no burden to thee," pleaded the home-made knight. "I have had
my armor for a long time and have practised walking in it."

"But why the tin suit?" expostulated Farr.

"I will explain as we walk."

"Well, come along!" blurted the wayfarer. "Nothing more can happen to
me, anyway."

"So thee has found one of thy own kind to follow about in the world?"
inquired the father, tauntingly. "Feathers on the head and rattles in
the hand! Cockahoops and fiddle-de-lorums! Thee'll be back soon with thy
folly cured after I have bailed thee from the calaboose! Then thee'll
stick to thy forge and be sensible!"

Farr noted a small shop by the roadside as they started off.

"My father is a good man, but practical--wholly practical," said his new
comrade of the ways. "From my good mother I derive imagination. My life
has not been happy here. But work has helped."

He pointed to the shop. Over the main door a faded, weather-worn sign
advertised "Eastup Chick & Son, Blacksmiths." On the gable was a newer
sign heralding "Jared Chick & Father, Inventors."

"I am Jared Chick, my friend."

He talked slowly, pausing to pick words, phrasing with the carefulness
of the man of method, talking as those persons talk who have read many
books and use their tongue but seldom. Farr found much quaintness in the
solemn man's discourse.

"My father put my name on the sign when I was young, and it pleased me.
I put his name on the othe