That's straight, and I don't want to talk about it any more."
He stood up, and his tone was defiant.
"You'd better take a walk, bub," commended the Duke, quietly. "I'm going
to nap for a little while. We may be up late to-night."
He picked up his hat and canted it over his face. "Get back here as
early as five o'clock," he said, from under its brim.
They were away in the farmer's carryall at that hour, after a supper of
bread-and-milk.
In the edge of the village of Burnside the Duke ordered a halt, and
stepped down from the carriage. The evening had settled in and it was
dark under the elms.
"Here's five dollars, brother. You've used us all right, and now so long
to you."
"But I hain't got you to nowhere yet!" protested the farmer. He had
finally decided in his own mind that these were railroad managers
planning projects, with an eye on his own farm. He wanted to carry them
where he could exhibit them to some one who could inform him.
But the Duke promptly drew Harlan along into the shadows, and a farmer
hampered with a two-seated carriage is not equipped for the trail.
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