"Hiram," she said, "you're going to lend it to Tweet, and he's going out in the auto stage to-night."
"I know it," said Hiram. "I got to help him. He's been a pretty good friend to me, Jo, and—and—I just like him. Why, if it hadn't been for him I'd never met you."
Jo colored and looked away. "You big, simple-hearted boy!" she cried. "Do you know what he is going to do?"
"No—he won't talk."
She was thoughtful a little, then took out a purse and handed him a twenty-dollar bill.
"Kiss it good-by," she said; "but I suppose the experience will be worth something to you."
"Thank you," said Hiram, very red of face. "I'm sorry for what I said about you meetin' me through Tweet, Jo. I meant to say, o' course, that if it hadn't been for Tweet I'd never got the job."
"Oh," said Jo, straight-lipped, "I understand."
Tweet was not with the outfit when it pitched camp close by for the night. He sat in the automobile stage instead, and waved a friendly good-by to them. "Bread on the water, Hiram, comes back chocolate cake!" he cried. "That is, Tweet bread does. Ha-ha, Hiram! You been mighty good to me, folks. So long for a time!"