"No, Kun'l Ward, but I've got some news that I thought ye might like
to hear before ye went past the toll-house this time. Intentions
between Cap'n Aaron Sproul and Miss Jane Ward has been published."

"Wha-a-at!"

"They were married yistiddy."

"Wha--" The cry broke into inarticulateness.

"The Cap'n ain't goin' to be toll-man after to-day. Says he's goin'
to live on the home place with his wife. There!" Uncle Jordan stepped
to one side just in time, for the gaunt horse sprung under the lash
as though he had the wings of Pegasus.

The Cap'n was sitting in front of the toll-house. The tall horse
galloped down the hill, but the Colonel stood up, and, with elbows
akimbo and hands under his chin, yanked the animal to a standstill,
his splay feet skating through the highway dust. The Colonel leaped
over the wheel and reversed his heavy whip-butt. The Cap'n stood up,
gripping a stout cudgel that he had been whittling at for many hours.

While the new arrival was choking with an awful word that he was
trying his best to work out of his throat, the Cap'n pulled his little
note-book out of his pocket and slowly drawled:

"I reckoned as how ye might find time to stop some day, and I've got
your account all figgered. You owe thirteen tolls at ten cents each,
one thutty, and thirteen times three dollars fine--the whole
amountin' to jest forty dollars and thutty cents. Then there's a gate