"Un-huh," muttered Battick. "I understand you, Mr. Strong. I presume you are all right."
"Well, good-day!" said Hiram, moving off. "I'll be sure to come around to the front door again if I visit you," and he laughed shortly.
The laugh died on his lips as he went back through the woods path. And for a very strange reason. Through the greenery to the right he caught sudden sight of a figure slinking away from behind the log on which he and Battick had been sitting while the latter told his story.
Hiram recognized this eavesdropper. It was Adam Banks.
CHAPTER XV
THE COUNTRY DANCE
Miss Delia Pringle had an idea and she came to Hiram with it that very day when he returned from his visit to Yancey Battick's patch of wheat.
"I do love a dance, Mr. Strong, don't you?" she began with her head on one side and a languishing look. "We have had very few of them around this neighborhood this winter. The flu, you know—so many unfortunate sicknesses.
"But the winter's well over now and everybody who hasn't died of the flu has recovered. I'd dearly love to have one more dance before haying and grain harvest—before all the young men get too busy."
"Yes. But—"