"But Gideon has been so busy and away from home so much in the woods,
and Pharlina ain't been in no great pucker, seein' that the farm was
gettin' on well, and--"

"There ain't no excuse for him," broke in the Cap'n, with vigor. He
was greatly interested in this new discovery. His eyes gleamed.
"'Tain't usin' her right. She can't step up to him and set the day.
'Tain't woman's sp'ere, that ain't. I didn't ask you to set the day.
I set it myself. I told you to be ready."

Her cheek flushed prettily at the remembrance of that impetuous
courtship, when even her dread of her ogre brother had been overborne
by the Cap'n's masterful manner, once she had confessed her love.

"I know what love is myself," went on the Cap'n. "He don't know;
that's what the trouble is with him. He ain't been waked up. Let him
be waked up good and plenty, and he won't be standin' around makin'
faces at us. I see what's got to be done to make a happy home of this.
You leave it to me."

They saw the Colonel stamping in their direction from the barn.

"You run into the house, Louada Murilla," directed the Cap'n, "and
leave me have a word with him."

The Colonel was evidently as anxious as the Cap'n for a word.

"Say, Sproul," he gritted, as he came under the tree, "I've got an
offer for the stumpage on township number eight. Seein' that you're