"Yer mare is winnin'," yelled a granger.
"You bet she is," retorted Mr. Roberts. "See her! Ain't she takin' the kinks out of her speed? Ain't that a clip? Sit still, ye fool," he cried lustily, apostrophising the boy who was riding; "if ye git a move on ye I'll kill ye. Oh, my lord! if she ain't a-goin' to distance them! Yes, sir, she's a shuttin' 'em out. Damn it--I ain't a swearin', Mis' Root--damn it, I say, she's a shuttin' 'em out! She's done it!! The race is won!!!"
He jumped from the wagon and plunged into the crowd, which respectfully made way for him.
* * * * *
"I've somethin' to tell ye, Mandy," said Mr. Roberts, some ten months later. I feel kind o' mean, too. But I done it for you; for love o' you, Mandy."
"Yes, Nal; what is it?"
They had been married a fortnight.
"Ye remember when the old man had the fit in the timer's box? Well, that knocked me galley-west. I felt a reg'ler murderer. But when he'd braced up, an began makin' himself hateful over our weddin', I felt glad that I'd done what I done."
"And what had you done, Nal, dear?"
"Hold on, Mandy, I'm tellin' this. Ye see, he promised to sell ye to me for two thousand dollars cash. But when I tendered him the coin, he went back on me. He was the meanest, the ornariest----"