r both sides, seems so. Here's the
reasons why I ought to tell; here's the reasons why I shouldn't.
I--"

"Tell? Ought to TELL? What makes you say that? What have YOU got
to tell?"

He was glaring at the windmill maker with frightened eyes. Jed
knew as well as if it had been painted on the shop wall before him
the question in the boy's mind, the momentous decision he was
trying to make. And he pitied him from the bottom of his heart.

"Tell?" he repeated. "Did I say tell? Well, if I did 'twas just
a--er--figger of speech, as the book fellers talk about. But the
only way to decide a thing, as it seems to me, is to try and figger
out what's the RIGHT of it, and then do that."

Phillips looked gloomily at the floor. "And that's such an easy
job," he observed, with sarcasm.

"The figgerin' or the doin'?"

"Oh, the doing; the figuring is usually easy enough--too easy. But
the doing is different. The average fellow is afraid. I don't
suppose you would be, Jed. I can imagine you doing almost anything
if you thought it was right, and hang the consequences."

Jed looked aghast. "Who? Me?" he queried. "Good land of love,
don't talk that way, Charlie! I'm the scarest critter that lives
and the weakest-kneed, too, 'most generally. But--but, all the
same, I do believe the best thing, and the easiest in the end, not
only for you--or me--but for all hands, is to take the bull by the
horns and heave the critter, if you can. There may be an awful big
trouble, but big or little it'll be over and done with. THAT bull
won't be hangin' around all your life and sneakin' up astern to get
you--and those you--er--care for. . . . Mercy me, how I do preach!
They'll be callin' me to the Baptist pulpit, if I don't look out.
I understand they're candidatin'."

His friend drew a long breath. "There is a poem that I used to
read, or hear some one read," he observed, "that fills the bill for
any one with your point of view, I should say. Something about a
fellow's not being afraid to put all his money on one horse, or the
last card--about his not deserving anything if he isn't afraid to
risk everything. Wish I could remember it."

Jed looked up from the lathe.

"'He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch
To win or lose it all.'

That's somethin' like it, ain't it, Charlie?" he asked.

Phillips was amazed. "Well, I declare,