has had a taste of success,
or rather a nibble at ambition, and he may, even now, be thinking of
going to a city. Suppose you go over and see him--offer him five
hundred dollars."

Sawyer studied awhile. "He couldn't take offense at that," he said.
"At least no sensible man ought to. Suppose you write me a check
payable to him."

McElwin, without replying, made out a check, blotted it and handed it
to Sawyer. "Come back and tell me," he said.

* * * * *

Lyman was writing when Sawyer tapped at the open door. "Come in," said
the writer. His manner was pleasant and his countenance was genial,
and Sawyer, standing at the threshold, felt an encouragement coming to
meet him. He stepped forward and Lyman invited him to sit down.

"A little warm," said Lyman.

"Yes, think we'll have rain, soon; the air's so heavy."

"Shouldn't be surprised. It would help farmers when setting out their
tobacco plants."

"I reckon you are right. But the farmers would complain anyway, wet or
dry. The weather wouldn't suit them, even if they had the ordering of
it."

"Well, in that they are not different from the rest of us," said
Lyman. "We all grumble."

A short silence followed. Lyman moved some papers. Sawyer coughed
slightly. They heard the grinding of the press.

"Printing the paper in there?" said Sawyer, nodding toward the door.
He began to turn about as if nervous at the thought of his errand.
"How many do you print a week?"

"I don't know, but we have a pretty fair circulation."

"I see it a good deal out in the state."

"Yes, it spreads out fairly well. We try to make it interesting to the
farmers."

"By telling them something they don't know," said the visitor.

Lyman shook his head slowly: "By reminding them of many things they do
know," he replied. "Tell a man a truth he doesn't know and he may
dispute it; call to his mind a truth which he has known and forgotten,
and he regards it as a piece of wisdom. The farmer is the weather-cock
of human nature."

"I guess you have about hit it. By the way, Mr. Lyman, I have called
on a little matter of business, and I hope you'll not fly off before
you consider it. The only way we can get at the merits of a case is by
being cool and deliberate. The last time we had a talk, you--"

"Yes," Lyman interrupted, "I must have gone too far when I called you
a coward."

"I think so, sir, but be that as it may, let us be cool and deliberate
now.