Mr. Evans sat and glowered at his prospective son-in-law as the
difficulties of the situation developed themselves. Even Mr. Carter's
reminders that he had come back and surrendered of his own free will
failed to move him, and he was hesitating between tying him up and
locking him in the attic and hiring a man to watch him, when Mr. Carter
himself suggested a way out of the difficulty.

"I'll lodge with you," he said, "and I'll give you all my money and
things to take care of. I can't run away without money."

He turned out his pockets on the table. Seven pounds eighteen shillings
and fourpence with his re-turn ticket made one heap; his watch and chain,
penknife, and a few other accessories another. A suggestion of Jim's
that he should add his boots was vetoed by the elder man as unnecessary.

"There you are," said Mr. Evans, sweeping the things into his own
pockets; "and the day you are married I hand them back to you."

His temper improved as the evening wore on. By the time supper was
finished and his pipe alight he became almost jocular, and the coldness
of Miss Evans was the only drawback to an otherwise enjoyable evening.

"Just showing off a little temper," said her father, after she had
withdrawn; "and wants to show she ain't going to forgive you too easy.
Not but what you behaved badly; however, let bygones be bygones, that's
my idea."

The behavior of Miss Evans was so much better next day that it really
seemed as though her father's diagnosis was correct. At dinner, when the
men came home from work, she piled Mr. Carter's plate up so generously