s, without standing in the present court.

"The evidence isn't all one-sided," he asserted. "If you were a man, I
could convince you in two minutes that both of the Farleys are rascals
and hypocrites."

"Yet they are your father's business associates," she reminded him.

He saw the hopelessness of any argument on that side, and was silent
again, this time until they had passed the Deer Trace gates and he had
cut the buggy before the great Greek-pillared portico of the
manor-house. When he had helped her out, she thanked him and gave him
her hand quite in the old way; and he held it while he asked a single
blunt question.

"Tell me one thing more, Ardea: do you love Vincent Farley?"

Her swift blush answered him, and he did not wait for her word.

"That settles it; you needn't say it in so many words. Isn't it a hell
of a world, Ardea? I love you--love you as this man never will, never
could. And with half his chance, I could have made you love me. I--"

"Don't, Tom! please don't," she begged, trying to free her hand.

"I must, for this once; then we'll quit and go back to the former
things. You said a while ago that I was vindictive; I'll show you that
I am not. When the time comes for me to put my foot on Vint Farley's
neck, I'm going to spare him for your sake. Then you'll know what it
means to have a man's love. Good-by; I'm coming over for a few minutes
this evening if you'll let me."

XXIII

TARRED ROPES

"Now jest you listen at me, Tom-Jeff; you ain't goin' to make out to
find no better hawss 'n that this side o' the Blue Grass. Sound as a
dollar in lung _and_ leg, highstepper--my Land! jest look at the way he
holds his head--rides like a baby's cradle; why, that hawss is a perfect
gentleman, Tom-Jeff."

Since her return from Europe Miss Ardea Dabney had taken to horseback
riding, a five-mile canter before breakfast in the fine brisk air of the
autumn mornings; and Tom had discovered that he needed a saddle animal.
Wherefore Brother Japheth was parading a handsome bay up and down before
the door of the small office building of the new foundry, descanting
glowingly on its merits, while Tom lounged on the step and pretended to
make difficulties.

"You think he's a pretty good horse, do you, Japhe--worth the money?" he
queried, with the air of one who is about to surrender, not to the fact,
but to the presentation of it.

"If you cayn't stable him this winter and then get your money back on