"An' he goes on bein' mad with Lawyer Barkman. Fancy, that fat old man.
He warn't jealous of Seth Stevens or the officer, no; but of him. Why,
it's silly. Barkman don't count anyway. He talks well, yes, an' he's
always pleasant, always; but he's jest not in it. Men air foolish
anyway." She was beginning to acknowledge that all her efforts to gain
her end might prove unsuccessful.

Barkman, with his varied experience and the cooler blood of forty, saw
more of the game than either Bancroft or Loo. He had learnt that
compliments and attention count for much with women, and having studied
Miss Conklin he was sure that persistent flattery would go a long way
towards winning her. "I've gained harder cases by studying the jury," he
thought, "and I'll get her because I know her. That schoolmaster
irritates her; I won't. He says unpleasant things to her; I'll say
pleasant things and she'll turn to me. She likes to be admired; I guess
that means dresses and diamonds. Well, she shall have them, have all she
wants.... The mother ain't a factor, that's plain, and the father's
sittin' on the fence; he'll just do anythin' for the girl, and if he
ain't well off--what does that matter? I don't want money;" and his
chest expanded with a proud sense of disinterestedness.

"Why does the schoolmaster run after her? what would he do with such a
woman? He couldn't even keep her properly if he got her. It's a duty to
save the girl from throwin' herself away on a young, untried man like
that." He felt again that his virtue ought to help him to succeed.

"What a handsome figure she has! Her arms are perfect, firm as marble;
and her neck--round, too, and not a line on it, and how she walks! She's
the woman I want--so lovely I'll always be proud of her. What a wife