kest at readin' signs 'd kinder go
partners 'n' heve confydence in one another, 'n' sorter lay to 'n' work
it out 'n' foller it up, it ud be vallybler than stores, or post-offices,
or farms to both on 'em." And he leaned so far forward and blinked so
fast that he lost his balance and almost fell off his chair.

It was Tom who saved him from his fall, but not from that tender
consideration for his physical security which such an act would argue.
Tom gathered up his legs and strode across to him almost before he had
finished speaking. For the time being he had apparently forgotten the
cradle and its occupant. He seized the little man by the back of his
collar and lifted him bodily out of his chair and shook him as a huge
mastiff might have shaken a rat, agitating the little legs in the large
trousers with a force which gave them, for a few seconds, the most active
employment.

"You confounded, sneaking, underhanded little thief!" he thundered. "You
damned little scoundrel! You--you----"

And he bore him out of doors, set him struggling astride his mule which
was cropping the grass, and struck that sagacious animal a blow upon her
quarters which sent her galloping along the Barnesville Road at a pace
which caused her rider to cling to her neck and body with arms and legs,
in which inconvenient posture he remained, unable to recover himself, for
a distance of at least half a mile.

Tom returned to the back room in some excitement. As he crossed the
threshold, he was greeted by a shrill cry from the cradle. He ruefully
regarded the patchwork quilt which seemed to be struggling violently with
some unseen agency.

"Doggone him!" he said, innocently, "he's wakened her--wakened her, by
thunder!"

And he sat down, breathing heavily from his bodily exertion, and began to
rock the cradle with a vigour and gravity which might have been expected
to achieve great results, if Mornin had not appeared and taken his charge
into her own hands.

CHAPTER VII

The next day Tom went to Barnesville. He left the Cross-roads on
horseback early in the morning, and reached his journey's end at noon. He
found on arriving at the town that the story of his undertaking had
preceded him.

When he drew rein before Judge Rutherford's house and having dismounted
and tied his horse to the fence, entered the gate, the Judge's wife came
out upon the porch to meet him with her baby in her arms.

She greeted him with a smile.

"Well," she