t
Hal and muttered words. "Tricked by Gad, that's what I
was, tricked by life and made a fool of," he said in a
low voice.

As though understanding his thoughts, Hal Winters spoke
up. "Well, has it been worth while? What about it, eh?
What about marriage and all that?" he asked and then
laughed. Hal tried to keep on laughing but he too was
in an earnest mood. He began to talk earnestly. "Has a
fellow got to do it?" he asked. "Has he got to be
harnessed up and driven through life like a horse?"

Hal didn't wait for an answer but sprang to his feet
and began to walk back and forth between the corn
shocks. He was getting more and more excited. Bending
down suddenly he picked up an ear of the yellow corn
and threw it at the fence. "I've got Nell Gunther in
trouble," he said. "I'm telling you, but you keep your
mouth shut."

Ray Pearson arose and stood staring. He was almost a
foot shorter than Hal, and when the younger man came
and put his two hands on the older man's shoulders they
made a picture. There they stood in the big empty field
with the quiet corn shocks standing in rows behind them
and the red and yellow hills in the distance, and from
being just two indifferent workmen they had become all
alive to each other. Hal sensed it and because that was
his way he laughed. "Well, old daddy," he said
awkwardly, "come on, advise me. I've got Nell in
trouble. Perhaps you've been in the same fix yourself.
I know what everyone would say is the right thing to
do, but what do you say? Shall I marry and settle down?
Shall I put myself into the harness to be worn out like
an old horse? You know me, Ray. There can't anyone
break me but I can break myself. Shall I do it or shall
I tell Nell to go to the devil? Come on, you tell me.
Whatever you say, Ray, I'll do."

Ray couldn't answer. He shook Hal's hands loose and
turning walked straight away toward the barn. He was a
sensitive man and there were tears in his eyes. He knew
there was only one thing to say to Hal Winters, son of
old Windpeter Winters, only one thing that all his own
training and all the beliefs of the people he knew
would approve, but for his life he couldn't say what he
knew he should say.

At half-past four that afternoon Ray was puttering
about the barnyard when his wife came up the lane along
the creek and called him. After the talk with Hal he
hadn't returned to the cornfield but worked about the
barn. He had already done the evening chores and