turn my thumbs
down on whole cohorts of senators and lawyers and demagogues that are
attacking us in Washington and read calmly in next day's paper how they
had been beheaded recanting all their sins against us. But I couldn't
get any nearer home. Why, the other day Ashley told me to send a final
and peremptory notice of dispossession to the Main family, over near
Bald Knob, and I couldn't do it. I tried all day. I knew old Main had no
business there, and is worthless and lazy and shiftless. But I kept
remembering how his poor old back was bent over. Finally I made Ashley
dictate it, and tried to keep thinking all the time that I was nothing
but a machine for the transmission of his ideas. When it comes to such
things I'm useless, and I know I fall short of all higher ideals of
honour and duty and everything else."

"Thank God you do," said Bob gravely.

XXXII

Ware returned to headquarters toward evening of the next day. He had
ridden hard and long, but he listened to Thorne's definition of his new
duties with kindling eye, and considerable appearance of quiet
satisfaction. Bob met him outside the office.

"You aren't living up to your part, Ware," said he, with mock anxiety.
"According to Hoyle you ought to draw your gun, whirl the cylinder, and
murmur gently, Aha!"

"Why should I do that?" asked Ware, considerably mystified.

"To see if your weapon is in order, of course."

"How would a fool trick like that show whether my gun's in shape?"

"Hanged if I know," confessed Bob, "but they always do that in books and
on the stage."

"Well, my gun will shoot," said Ware, shortly.

It was then too late to visit Welton that evening, but at a good hour
the following morning Bob announced his intention of going over to the
mill.

"If you're going to be my faithful guardian, you'll have to walk," he
told Ware. "My horse is up north somewhere, and there isn't another
saddle in camp."

"I'm willing," said Ware; "my animals are plumb needy of a rest."

At the last moment Amy joined them.

"I have a day off instead of Sunday," she told them, "and you're the
first humans that have discovered what two feet are made for. I never
can get anybody to walk two steps with me," she complained.

"Never tried before you acquired those _beautiful_ gray elkskin boots
with the _ravishing_ hobnails in 'em," chaffed Bob.

Amy said nothing, but her cheeks burned with two red spots. She chatted
eagerly, too eagerly, tryi