query.

"Lord! I should think so. Feel there."

Trove felt the same old protuberance on Tunk's leg.

"Swatted me right in the knee-pan. Put both feet on my chest, too.
Lord! I'd be coughin' up blood all the while if I wa'n't careful."

"And why did you leave?"

"Served me a mean trick," said Tunk, frowning. "Letishey went away
t' the village t' have a tooth drawed, an' t'other one locked me up
all day in the garret chamber. Toward night I crawled out o' the
window an' clim' down the lightnin' rod. An' she screamed for help
an' run t' the neighbours. Scairt me half t' death. Heavens! I
didn't know what I'd done!"

"Did you come down fast?" Trove inquired.

"Purty middlin' fast."

"Well, a man never ought to travel on a lightning rod."

Tunk sat in sober silence a moment, as if he thought it no proper
time for levity.

"I made up my mind," said he, with an injured look, "it wa'n't
goin' t' do my character no good t' live there with them ol' maids."

There was a bitter contempt in his voice when he said "ol' maids."

"I'd kind o' like t' draw the ribbons over that mare o' yourn,
mister," said Tunk, presently.

"Do you think you could manage her?"

"What!" said Tunk, in a voice of both query and exclamation. "Huh!
Don't I look as if I'd been used t' hosses. There ain't a bone in
my body that ain't been kicked--some on 'em two or three times.
Don't ye notice how I walk? Heavens, man! I hed my ex sprung
'fore I was fifteen!"

Tunk referred often and proudly to this early springing of his
"ex," by which he meant probably that horse violence had bent him
askew.

"Well, you shall have a chance to drive her," said Trove, spreading
his blanket. "But if I'd gone through what you have, I'd keep out
of danger."

"I like it," said Tunk, with emphasis. "I couldn't live without
it. Danger is a good deal like chawin' terbaccer--dum nasty 'til
ye git used to it. Fer me it's suthin' like strawberry short-cake
and allwus was. An' nerve, man, why jes' look a' there."

He held out a hand to show its steadiness.

"Very good," Trove remarked.

"Good? Why, it's jest as stiddy as a hitchin' post, an' purty nigh
as stout. Feel there," said Tunk, swelling his biceps.

"You must be very strong," said Trove, as he felt the rigid arm.

"A man has t' be in the boss business, er he ain't nowheres. If
they get wicked, ye've got t' put the power to 'em."

Tunk had only one horse to care for at the widow