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The girl was now following the outlines of her hill-country fiction reading.

"Marry my sweetheart—why, I ain't got none!"

"You will have one by the time you are a great lawyer!"

"My granddaddy was a judge," recalled Abner.

"What did I tell you!" cried the romantic one. She smiled at this corroboration, and it seemed to Abner she had the most charming smile he had ever seen.

In the midst of this absorbing prophecy of Abner's future, a stream of cachinnating and guffawing men came pouring out of the courthouse door. In the centre of this hilarious press flowed the large form, ponderous head, and black mane of Railroad Jones. The magnate was grinning amid the mirthful throng, and everyone appeared trying to clap his broad back. A confusion of voices shouted, "Ain't he a sight!" "Ain't he the beatenest man in town!" "Brainiest man in Lane County to-day, countin' in jedge and lawyers. . . ."

It was evident that Railroad Jones had made another great coup in court. It was the sort of thing that would go down in the folk stories of the hill people and would circulate for years after Railroad Jones was dead and gone. The drama, the bigness of the situation rushed on Abner. Without a thought he deserted the girl and went running toward the crowd. He seized the arm of a man whom he did not know,

"What's he done? What's Railroad Jones done now?" shouted Abner in the uproar.

The man slapped Abner's shoulder and guffawed to the skies.

"By gum. There's a man here tryin' to c'lect a bill fer some stoves Railroad bought ten years ago, but Jones showed a contrack with the comp'ny agreein' not tuh c'lect tull Railroad had sold all the stoves. Now R-R-Railroad won't sell the l-last un!" The farmer crimped over, roaring with laughter. "He's holdin' it f-f-fer enough money tuh-tuh pay fer all the rest put together. . . ."