that afternoon, and talked but little. This change puzzled the
teamster, and he advised him to take his time.

"It's no use killin' yerself," he told him. "Si Stubbles won't thank
ye if ye work yer head off."

"I want to get through with this job," Douglas replied. "I'm not
working by the day as you are, and Jake needs me."

When the last of the hay had been unloaded, Douglas left the barn and
started for the road. He had not seen Ben since the encounter at the
gate, and he was hoping that he would not meet him again that
afternoon. He did not feel altogether sure of himself, and he needed
time and quietness to think carefully over what he had better do.

He was part way down to the road when he heard some one calling.
Stopping and looking back, he saw that it was Ben hurrying after him.
As he approached, Douglas saw that his manner was altogether changed,
and he seemed quite affable. He was dressed in a white tennis-suit,
and he looked cool and self-possessed.

"Say," he began, "I understand you play the fiddle."

"Well, what of it?" Douglas curtly questioned.

"You really do, then?"

"Yes, when I feel like it."

"Won't you feel like it to-night? You see, there's to be a dance in
the hall this evening, but the man who generally plays is sick."

"Can't you get any one else?"

"No one who can really play. There is a chap who tries to, but you
would think he was filing a saw instead of playing a fiddle."

"Perhaps I can't do any better."

"Oh, you'll be all right. Jake and his wife have heard you, and so has
Empty."

"And Empty spread the report, did he?"

"Yes. But, say, you'll play, won't you?"

Douglas did not reply at once. He wondered what Ben would say if he
told him what he knew about his contemptible act at Long Wharf. He did
not want to play at the dance, and yet he knew it would be too good an
opportunity to miss. He would see many of the young people of Rixton,
and learn things which might prove of great assistance.

"Where is the hall?" he at length asked.

"Down at Kane's corner, about a mile and a half from here."

"What time does the dance begin?"

"Oh, about nine o'clock. The crowd won't get there much before that."

"Very well, then, I will be there and do the best I can."

CHAPTER XI

THE FACE AT THE DOOR

It was after nine before the dance in the hall at the Corner began.
Douglas was there early, and he watched with much interest the arrival
of the var