ER X.

THE OLD FELLOW LAUGHED.

"You are a pestiferous son-in-law," said Warren, as Lyman entered the
room. "And I have taken possession of your private quarters," he
added, pointing to a pile of country newspapers. "I have brought them
in here to see if I could gouge some state news out of them. I know
you don't like that sort of drudgery."

"That is all right. But why do you call me a pestiferous son-in-law?"

"I saw you through the window."

"With the lady and the mule?" said Lyman sitting down. "I asked them
in to dine with me."

"Where? You say Staggs has nothing but a 'snack' on Sunday."

"Up here, to eat crackers and sardines."

"Extravagant pauper. I'm glad they didn't come."

"I knew they wouldn't."

"Did she ask you to sign the populistic petition?"

"Yes, but not in the name of love for the mule."

"In whose name, then?"

"Of her father, her mother, and herself."

"Are you going to sign it?"

"Not until she convinces me that she loves the mule, and I don't
believe she can ever do that. She has a contempt for him, and I
believe she is glad that her affairs are temporarily tied up. She's
charming."

"There you go, falling in love with a strange woman."

"No, I am not in love with her, but I am naturally interested in her.
I believe she has sense."

"Rather too pretty for that."

"No, she is handsome, but pretty is not the word. I'll warrant you she
can run like a deer."

"You are gone," said Warren.

"No, I am simply an admirer. But admiration may be the crumbling bank
overlooking the river. I may fall," he added, with a laugh.

"Don't. She has been taught to despise a real man. Let the other side
of the house have the trouble."

"Yes," said Lyman. "It is better to be under the heel of the express
company than under the heel of love."

"Don't say that," Warren objected, with a rueful shake of his head.
"Some things are too serious to be joked over. It is all right to make
light of love, for that is a light thing, but an express company is
heavy. You are restless."

Lyman had got up and begun to walk about the room. "Yes, the bright
day calls on me to come out."

"Isn't it the memory of a bright face that calls on you?"

"No. Well, I'll leave you."

"Won't you sit down to a sardine?"

"No. I'll stroll over to see old Jasper, and take cold pot-luck with
him."

Old Jasper, his wife and daughter were seated at the table when Lyman
entered the dining room. "Just in time,"