above knows you have done too much already."

"Tobe Barnett, listen to me!" Dolly cried. "What are you beating about
the bush for? Haven't I got a right to know about that child? I love
it. If anything was to happen to that baby it would kill me. Did the
doctor say there was no--no hope?"

"It ain't that, exactly, Miss Dolly." Barnett avoided her eyes and
gulped, his half-bare, hairy breast quivering with suppressed emotion.

"Well, what is it, then?" Dolly demanded, impatiently.

"Why, if you will know my full shame it is this, Miss Dolly," he
blurted out, despondently; he started to cover his face with his gaunt
hand, but refrained. "I'm a scab on the face of the world. I've lost
the respect and confidence of all men. The doctor left a prescription
for several kinds of medicine and a rubber hot-water bag and syringe.
I went to the drug store in Darley and the one here in Ridgeville but
they wouldn't credit me--they said they couldn't run business on that
plan. And I can't blame 'em. I owe 'em too much already."

"Look here, Tobe!" Dolly was leaning over the fence, regardless of the
fact that the sleeves of the new dress were against the palings. "How
much do those things cost?"

Barnett turned and stared hesitatingly at her. "More than I'd let
_you_ pay for," he blurted out, doggedly. "Six dollars. When I git so
low as to put my yoke on your sweet young neck I--I will kill myself--
that's what I'll do. I tell you I've had enough, an' Annie has, too;
but we ain't goin' to let you do no more. We had a talk about it last