"Sure, haven't I jist told ye?"
"But doesn't it explain anythin'? Doesn't it tell who the gal was, an' why I did what I did?"
"Here, read it fer ye'rself," and Zeb handed him the paper.
Slowly and carefully Abner read the article which occupied a prominent position, and was featured in big headlines. The writer had made the most of the incident, and the fact that the girl was the daughter of the Attorney General added all the more to the interest. The story was distorted beyond all semblance of reality and mingled with humor. It ended by saying that the culprit was allowed to go owing to the girl, who interceded on his behalf.
Abner's body trembled from the vehemence of his anger, and when he had finished reading he thrust the paper under Zebedee's nose.
"De ye believe that?" he demanded.
"Ain't it true?" Zeb asked.
"True! True! Did ye ever see anythin' true in that rag? It's a lie, a d—n lie, an' I'm goin' to punch the nose of that feller wot wrote it, see if I don't."
"Ye better be careful," Zeb warned. "Ye might have to punch several noses, the editor's included."
"An' de ye think I can't do it? I kin wipe up the hull bunch with one hand. I'll make 'em take backwater, an' apologize right smart. Why can't they leave decent honest people alone? They've got more ink than brains. If they'd spend some of their energy writin' about Hen Whittles' vile dump, an' how he wants to sell the place fer one thousand dollars fer that Orphan Home, it 'ud be more sensible."