ook for her back too soon," remarked Allan. "Looks to me
as though this thing had all been figured out ahead. Jim went
yesterday morning; Beulah goes last night. Just a chance if they
ain't married by this time."

"So that's it, is it?" exclaimed Harris, jumping up from his
untouched breakfast. There was a fierce light in his eye and a
determination in his face that boded ill to any who opposed him. He
seized his wife roughly by the shoulder. "And you were a party to
this, were you? You--you wouldn't even stop at that? Well, I'll stop
it. I'll stop him, if I do it with a bullet. I'll show him whether
any--any--_hired man_--can cross me in a matter of my own family."

His wife had risen, and was clinging to his wrists, half for
protection, half in suppliance. "Now, John," she pleaded, "don't be
rash. You don't know that Beulah's gone with Jim, and you haven't a
word of proof of it."

"Proof! What more proof do I want? When did ever Beulah carry on like
this before? Didn't she always do as she was told? And haven't they
been thick as molasses this while back? Wasn't it over wasting time
with her that Jim got fired, and not a word of admission of the real
facts from him? What more do you want than that? And on top of it all
you help her away, and keep it a secret from me as long as you can. I
daresay you knew their plans from the first. You thought I wouldn't
be interested in that, either."

"I didn't know it," she protested, "and I don't believe it. I don't
believe either Beulah or Jim had any such thought in their head. But
even if they did, Jim Travers is as decent a young man as there is in
Plainville district, and you've nothing to be ashamed of except your
own temper, that drove them away in the way they went."

"I won't listen to that kind of talk from you any longer," said
Harris sternly. "I'll chase the young reprobates to earth, if it
takes all summer. And unless you can clear yourself of being mixed up
in this--well, there'll be something to settle on that score, too.
Hitch up the drivers, Allan, and be quick about it."

"You're not going to leave your ploughing, are you?" asked his wife.
The words sprang to her lips without any misintent. It was such an
unusual thing for her husband, on any account, to leave the farm work
unfinished. The practice on the Harris homestead was work first, all
other considerations second.

"That's enough of your sarcasm," he snapped. "I would think when our
name is threate