“Yes, 'm,” replied Pole. “It's yo'rn.” He produced a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Miller. “Heer's Craig's order on his wife fer it, an' in it he acknowledges it's the cash deposited by Mr. Bishop. He won't give me no trouble. I've got 'im fixed. He 'll leave Darley in the mornin'. He's afeerd this 'll git out an' he 'll be lynched.”
Alan was profoundly moved. He transferred his gaze from the money to Pole's face, and leaned towards him.
“You did it out of friendship for me,” he said, his voice shaking.
“That's what I did it fer, Alan, an' I wish I could do it over agin. When I laid hold o' that wad an' knowed it was the thing you wanted more'n anything else, I felt like flyin'.”
“Tell us all about it, Baker,” said Miller, wrapping up the stack of bills.
“All right,” said Pole, but Mrs. Bishop interrupted him.
“Wait fer Alfred,” she said, her voice rising and cracking in delight. “Wait; I 'll run find 'im.”
She went out through the dining-room towards the stables, calling her husband at every step. “Alfred, oh, Alfred!”
“Heer!” she heard him call out from one of the stables.
She leaned over the fence opposite the closed door, behind which she had heard his voice.