aughter of the superintendent here at the mills."

"She is a very striking girl," I said. "You know her, of course?"

"A little."

Vibbard enlarged upon this: it was a curious habit they had fallen
into, of each waiting for the other to explain what should more
properly have been explained by himself.

"Thorny's father, you know," said Vibbard, "was a great machinist, and
so they had acquaintances around at mills in different parts of the
State. She--that is Ida, you know--is only sixteen now, but Thorny
first saw her when he was a boy and came here, once or twice, with his
father."

Silverthorn nodded his head corroboratively.

"But it seems to me," I said, addressing him, "that you treat her
rather distantly for an old acquaintance; or else she treats you
distantly. Which is it?"

They laughed, and Vibbard blurted out, with a queer, boyish grimace:

"It's _me_. She don't like me. Hey, Thorny?"

"It's nearer the truth," returned his friend, "to say that you're so
bashful you don't give her half a chance to make known what she does
think of you."

"Oh, time enough--time enough," said Vibbard, good-humoredly.

Remembering that I must hurry back to catch my train, I suddenly found
that I had been in an abstracted mood, for I was still standing with
my hat off.

"Well, let me know how you get on," I said, jocosely, as I parted from
the comrades.

Yet for the life of me I could not tell which one of them it was that
I should expect to hear from as a suitor for the girl's hand.

It was within a fortnight after this that they came to my office--for
I had been admitted to the bar--and announced that the time for
drawing up their long-pending agreement had arrived. They were still
as eager as ever about it, and I very soon had the instrument made
out, stating the mutual consideration, and duly signed and sealed.

Finding that they had been at Stansby again, I was prompted to ask
them more about Ida.

"Do you know," I said, boldly, "that I am very much puzzled as to
which of you was the more interested in her?"

They took it in good part, and Silverthorn answered:

"That's not surprising. I don't know, myself."

"I'm trying," said Vibbard, bluntly, "to make Thorny fall in love with
her. But I can't seem to succeed."

"No," said his friend, "because I insist upon it that she's just the
woman for _you_."

Vibbard turned to me with an expression of ridicule.

"Yes," he said, "Thorny is as much wrapped u