Mellie said seriously, "Maybe you ain't been moonstruck in one way, but you sure have been in another. You ever try tellin' a woman what to do?"
"No," Harky conceded, "but I'd like to."
"Me too," Mellie said sadly, "but I know better. Melinda kin go if she wants to, an' I kind of think she will on account she likes coon huntin'. But—"
"But what?" Harky asked.
"But nothin'," Mellie said.
About to fill Harky's understanding ear with his recent mental turmoil, and how that was responsible for his decision to keep Glory tied, Mellie wisely said nothing. Somehow or other he'd got just what he wanted anyhow, and Glory would be running with Duckfoot. Only fools meddled with affairs that were already perfect.
"Good enough," said Harky. "I'll wait 'til Melinda comes."
In due course, another day at Miss Cathby's school behind them, Melinda and Mary danced into the yard. Mary, who not only thought Harky a roughneck but said so loudly, frequently, and publicly, stuck her tongue out at him and ran into the house. Melinda, met and accompanied by an ecstatic Glory, came to where her father and Harky waited.
"You must have your corn in, Harold," she said sweetly.
"How come you ask that?" Harky demanded.