"We caught him at it! So, as I say, you've escaped from a hyena. Now, Mr. Gammon only needs a wife like you to get him out of the dumps."
Mr. Gammon wiped tears from his cheeks and gazed down on her.
"Charles," she said, gently, "won't you come into the house for a few minits? I want to talk to you!"
But as Mr. Gammon was about to obey joyously, Hiram seized his arm.
"Just a moment," he objected. "We'll send him right in to you, marm, but we've got just a little matter of business to talk over with him."
And when they were behind the barn he took Mr. Gammon by his coat-collar with the air of a friend.
"Gammon," said he, "what are you goin' to do to him? Me and the Cap'n are interested. He'll be comin' here this evenin'. He'll be comin' to court. Now, what are you goin' to do?"
There was an expression on Mr. Gammon's face that no one had ever seen there before. His eyes were narrowed. His pointed tongue licked his lips. His thin hair bristled.
"What are you goin' to do to him?"
"Lick him!" replied Mr. Gammon. It was laconic, but it sounded like a rat-tail file on steel.