if absolutely necessary.

As I drove alongside, the stocky, stout lad of a farmer in his brown
duck coat lined with sheep's wool, came up from between the wheels. His
cap was awry, his trousers were muddy at the knees where he had knelt in
the moist road, and his face was red and angry.

A true knight, I thought to myself, looks not to the beauty of his lady,
but only to her distress.

"What's the matter, Brother?" I asked in the friendliest manner.

"Bolt gone," he said gruffly, "and I got to get to town before
nightfall."

"Get in," I said, "and we'll drive back. We shall see it in the road."

So he got in. I drove the mare slowly up the hill and we both leaned out
and looked. And presently there in the road the bolt lay. My farmer got
out and picked it up.

"It's all right," he said. "I was afraid it was clean busted. I'm
obliged to you for the lift."

"Hold on," I said, "get in, I'll take you back."

"Oh, I can walk."

"But I can drive you faster," I said, "and you've got to get the load
to town before nightfall."

I could not let him go without taking tribute. No matter what the story
books say, I am firmly of the opinion that no gentle knight (who was
human) ever parted with the fair lady whose misery he had relieved
without exchanging the time of day, or offering her a bun from his
dinner pail, or finding out (for instance) if she were maid or married.

My farmer laughed and got in.

"You see," I said, "when a member of my society is in distress I always
like to help him out."

He paused; I watched him gradually evolve his reply:

"How did you know I was a Mason?"

"Well, I wasn't _sure_."

"I only joined last winter," he said. "I like it first-rate. When you're
a Mason you find friends everywhere."

I had some excellent remarks that I could have made at this point, but
the distance was short and bolts were irresistibly uppermost. After
helping him to put in the bolt, I said:

"Here's the grip of fellowship."

He returned it with a will, but afterward he said doubtfully.

"I didn't feel the grip."

"Didn't you?" I asked. "Well, Brother, it was all there."

"If ever I can do anything for you," he said, "just you let me know.
Name's Forbes, Spring Brook."

And so he drove away.

"A real Mason," I said to myself, "could not have had any better
advantage of his society at this moment than I. I walked right into it
without a grip or a pass. And benefits have also been distributed."