The lovely quiet of the country gave our travellers a feeling of peace and rest, that the sharp voice of the iron horse and the rattle of his steel-shod hoofs had forbidden them.
"This it is that makes tramping glorious!" exclaimed the Evangelist, imbued with the beauty and placidity of Nature's feast.
"'Far from the maddening crowd's ignoble strife' I could tramp forever and forever, with Nature for a companion, and feed my hungry eyes on her loveliness!"
Toward the close of the afternoon, as Ben and his friend were seated, resting on the top rail of an old, moss-covered, stake-and-rider fence, a young man came up to them mounted on a horse. The animal was without a saddle and looked as though he had been severely ridden. His rider appeared to be an ordinary young country fellow, without any particular points of interest about him. He drew rein opposite our friends and entered into conversation with them, stating that he was a resident of Bonfield in the adjoining county, thirty miles distant, and having had a falling out with the old folks at home, had left the parental roof with this horse—his only property—determined to seek his fortunes abroad; ef it tuk him through six 'jining counties! But he found the horse to be a plaguy botheration. He'd no saddle, an' he was too poor to buy one, and too poor to afford the luxury of a ridin'. He could better afford to walk. He said he was a simple feller and didn't know much 'bout the world, no how, which they might a seed. He was detarmined to sell or dicker his hoss, and mebbe they'd like to buy the anamyle. How much w'uld they give fur him? But our friends had no money to purchase him with even had they been so inclined. In that case moughtn't they hev sumthin' they'd trade? For the rider was so durned tired of the bruit, durned if he didn't nigh feel like givin' him away, or a tradin' him fur sum durned jack knife! Our friends had nothing to trade him, however.
No pistols, nor watches, nor jewelry, nor nothing?
Ben shook his head, but the Evangelist studied a moment.
"Ben," he whispered, "I hate to part with my watch. It is the last earthly tie I have binding me to memories of the past. But—if—if I had that horse I could sell him—sell him may be for fifty or sixty dollars! And that would be money enough to take us both decently to St. Louis, and pay our expenses there until we could secure employment—good employment. I'd give up rambling, and—it might be the making of us both!"
Cleveland tried to persuade him not to part with the watch, but the sanguine temperament of the Evangelist—peculiar to him—was already picturing a life of respectability in St. Louis. A great reformation with Ben for a constant moral support to lean upon. Indeed it was Ben's own reasoning heretofore that caused the other to think at all of changing his condition.
"Yes I will, yes I will, Ben. It's a great chance—who knows what may come of it!"
And Ben who had formed a strong liking for his companion thought perhaps it might be for the best after all. That it might, possibly, be a turning point in Horton's life, that would redeem him.