"I'm in earnest," insisted Harris. "The truth is, I've been ashamed of winning your money, ever since. You didn't mean it, but you've acted in a way to make me ashamed."
"I have! How?" Frank was more amazed than ever.
"Because you gave over play, though you had a chance to try again, and acted as if you had got above such foolish things. It's time we all got above them. You're a good-hearted fellow, Frank,—you've shown that,—and nobody shall say I've robbed you."
Frank took the money with a heart too full for thanks. He thought Harris a fellow of unexampled generosity, never considering how much his own example had had to do with bringing about this most gratifying result.
Atwater stopped reading, and looked over his book at Harris with a smile of pleasure and approval clear as daybreak. But the silent man did not speak.
"Well! the idea of a battle makes some folks awful pious all at once!" was Winch's comment.
Nobody heeded him. As for Frank, with triumph in his heart and money in his fist, he ran barefoot to where Seth Tucket lay sprawled before the blazing rails, feeling of his stockings, to see if they were dry enough to put on.
"Hello, young chap! how goes it? 'Stranger what dost thou require? Rest, and a guide, and food and fire.' Get down here and have a toasting. It comes cheap."
Frank sat down, and began counting the money.
"What's all that?" demanded Seth.