he says, 'we ought to make a
believer of him right here and now.'

"Even then, mind you, the husbands would have lost their nerve if Ben
hadn't took the lead. Ben didn't have to live with their wives so what
cared he? Wilfred Lennox sort of shuffled his feet and smiled a smile of
pure anxiety. He knew some way that this was nothing to cheer about.

"'I got it,' says Jeff Tuttle with the air of a thinker. 'We're cramping
the poor cuss here. What he wants is the open road.'

"'What he really wants,' says Alonzo, 'is about six bottles of my pure,
sparkling beer, but maybe he'll take the open road if we show him a good
one.'

"'He wants the open road--show him a good one!' yells the other husbands
in chorus. It was kind of like a song.

"'I had meant to be on my way,' says Wilfred very cold and lofty.

"'You're here to-day and there to-morrow,' says Ben; 'but how can you be
there to-morrow if you don't start from here now?--for the way is long
and lonely.'

"'I was about to start,' says Wilfred, getting in a couple of steps
toward the door.

"''Tis better so,' says Ben. 'This is no place for a county recorder's
son, and there's a bully road out here open at both ends.'

"They made way for the poet, and a sickening silence reigned. Even the
women gathered about the door of the other room was silent. They knew
the thing had got out of their hands. The men closed in after Wilfred as
he reached the steps. He there took his soft hat out from under his coat
where he'd cached it. He went cautiously down the steps. Beryl Mae broke
the silence.

"'Oh, Mr. Price,' says she, catching Alonzo by the sleeve, 'do you think
he's really sincere?'

"'He is at this moment,' says Alonzo. 'He's behaving as sincerely as
ever I saw a man behave.' And just then at the foot of the steps Wilfred
made a tactical error. He started to run. The husbands and Ben Sutton
gave the long yell and went in pursuit. Wilfred would have left them all
if he hadn't run into the tennis net. He come down like a sack of meal.

"'There!' says Ben Sutton. 'Now he's done it--broke his neck or
something. That's the way with some men--they'll try anything to get a
laugh.'

"They went and picked the poet up. He was all right, only dazed.

"'But that's one of the roads that ain't open,' says Ben. 'And besides,
you was going right toward the nasty old railroad that runs into the
cramped haunts of men. You must have got turned round. Here'--he pointed
out over