"Yes, as an idiot. You must surely be one, or you'd jump at the chance of having your head and shoulders attended to by the likes of her. I wish it had been me she threshed."
This view of the situation appealed to Abner, and he squinted an eye at the policeman.
"I see ye'r pint, Tom, an' it's a good one. Guess I'd better hustle home, fer I do feel mighty sore."
Scrambling up over the wheel, he flopped himself down by Belle's side and picked up the reins.
"Well, s'long, Tom. Much obliged fer ye'r help an' advice. Will see ye later. Gid-dap, Jerry."
After they had fairly started on the homeward way, Abner pulled out his pipe and tobacco.
"De ye mind smokin'?" he asked.
"No, not at all," the girl replied. "I enjoy the smell of tobacco."
"That's good. Me nerves are a bit upsot to-day, an' terbaccer allus steadies 'em."
"I am afraid that I am the cause of your trouble, Mr. Andrews. I had no idea that it was you I was whipping, but thought it was a scoundrel wishing to harm me."