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pression of spirits. Presently he drew a long breath and murmured aloud, "Well, good God Almighty, what does it take to please a damn gal anyway?"

Before Abner got into bed Tug Beavers came in. He, too, was sweating at every pore. Abner asked in surprise, “Was you shootin’ aroun’ the church, too?”

Tug explained amid long breaths that he was not. He had been coming back from Squire Meredith’s place when a form arose apparently out of the road beside him. He had not been afraid, but simply had asked who it was. There was no reply. Tug then walked toward it, but the form floated back from him as if his air had brushed it aside. Tug then picked up a stone and threatened to knock the thing in the head, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth than a pistol fired and a bullet whizzed past Tug’s ear. Then, Tug said, he had come on home.

As Abner sat on the side of the bed looking at his panting, sweating friend, it occurred even to that unsuspicious youth that Tug had eliminated considerable detail in the brief phrase he had "come on home."