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"Why, s-sure," stammered Abner, thrilled at this intimate suggestion. "I'll do anything in the worl' I can to accommodate you an' Adelaide, Mr. Jones."

"I knowed you would, Abner, so I jest wish you'd tell Buck Sharp to lay off them lands which belong to me. When you need money you can proceed aginst the other places aroun' here. Yore gran'daddy owned the old Coltrane place, the Beshear place. I understan' Ditmas is wantin' the timber on the Coltrane place. You ort to be able to compromise an' sell it to him straight out."

The mention of Mr. Ditmas introduced a discordant note into the sacrificial mood of the youth.

"I saw Mr. Ditmas a few days ago, an' he seemed mighty cut up over a trade he made with you." Reproach coloured the ex-teamster's tones. "He was sayin' somethin' about the South's not tradin' fair and whitecaps, or somethin' like that."

"Whitecaps an' the South not tradin' fair?"

"Yeh, somethin' like that."

"Well, now, Abner, I was lookin' out for my side o' that trade, an' nachelly I supposed he was lookin' out for his'n. When I trade with a man, Abner—I mean a man outside my own fambly—I nachelly make as good a trade as I can, an' I mean fer him to do the same. I thought that rule was understood North, South, East, West, an' ever' other direction."

"Sure," agreed Abner, for Railroad's logic was as clear and convincing as Mr. Ditmas's had been cloudy and involved. "Well, I don't guess Mr. Ditmas really meant anything by what he said, he was drunk when he said it."

That ended the Ditmas analysis of the South and the nation. It passed from Abner's mind and never returned.

The young man and the old one stood talking a few minutes longer in the chill autumn night. Then they shook hands again and Abner crossed the porch and started down the gravelled path to the front gate. He would walk home.