"What, over that dark road? Don't you know we passed a good many dangerous places coming? Stay till tomorrow."
"No, I'll walk back and leave the wagon for you."
"That would be an outrage. If you go back, drive."
"No, to tell you the truth I would rather walk. I want to think."
"Then you'd rather go alone, anyway, wouldn't you? All right, and probably I can get her to come to town with me tomorrow. They've got to send in to buy things sometimes, I should think. By the by, I've got a lot of seeds sent by a congressman, and I'll tell the old man he can have them. Nothing catches one of these old fellows like seeds. He'll send her in after them tomorrow morning, and then I can find out how I stand."
"With her?"
"No, find out how I stand with myself—see whether I love her or not. Have you found out yet—in your case? Tell me, I won't say anything about it."
"Yes, I have found out."
"You needn't say—I guess I know." Warren reached over and took Lyman by the hand. "We save time and trouble when we put a man in a position so that he needn't say."
"Yes," said Lyman, "the greatest justice you can confer on a man, at times, is to permit him to be silent."