Lanpher went.  He went carefully.  He was followed quite as carefully by Racey Dawson.

When Lanpher was free of the neat rows he looked up venomously into the face of Alicran Skeel who had meticulously ridden round the garden.

“I was wondering where you was,” Lanpher remarked with deep meaning.

“I ain’t rooting up nobody’s gyarden,” Alicran returned, cheerfully.  “And don’t wonder too hard.  Might strain yore intellect or something.  I’ll always be where I aim to be—­always.  You done scratched yore face, Lanpher.”

Lanpher turned from Alicran Skeel and spat upon the ground.

“Alicran,” said Racey, holding his alert attitude, “the first false move you make Lanpher gets it.”

“I ain’t makin’ a move,” said Alicran, thumbs hooked in the armholes of his vest.  “I got plenty to do minding my own business.”

“Huh?” Thus the sceptical Racey, who did not trust Mr. Skeel as far as he could throw a horse by the tail.

“Shucks,” said Alicran, out of deference to the lady, “you don’t believe me.”

“Shore I do,” asserted Racey, “Shore, you bet you.  I—­Careful, Lanpher!  I can talk to somebody else and watch you at the same time!”

“If Alicran was worth a—­” began Lanpher, furiously, and stopped.

“You was gonna say—­what?” queried Alicran, softly.

“Nothing,” said Lanpher, sulkily.  “Put yore gun away,” he continued to Racey.  “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“Now that’s what I call downright generous of you, Lanpher,” Racey declared, warmly.  “I’d shore hate to be hurt.  I shore would.  But if it’s alla same to you, I’ll keep my gun right where she is—­if it’s alla same to you.”

“That’ll do, Racey.  Stop this rowing.  I won’t have it.”  It was Molly Dale pushing past Racey and standing with arms akimbo directly in front of his gun-muzzle.  Racey let his gun and holster fall up-and-down, but he did not remove his hand from the gunbutt.

“Who do you want here?” Molly inquired of Lanpher.

Lanpher’s rat-like features cracked into an ugly smile.  “Is yore paw home?” he asked.

“Father’s gone to Marysville.”

“When’ll he be back?”

“Day after to-morrow, I guess.”

“Yeah, I kind of guess he’d want to spend the night so’s he could do business in the morning, huh?” The Lanpher smile grew even uglier.

“He has some business to attend to in the morning, yes.”

“I kind of thought he would.  Yeah.  You don’t happen to know the nature of his business, do you?”

“His business is none of yours, and I’ll thank you to pick up your feet and clear out, the pair of you.”

“Not so fast.”  Lanpher spread deprecatory hands, and his smile became suddenly crooked.  “I just come down to do yore paw a favour.”

“A favour?  You?” Blank unbelief was patent in Molly’s tone and expression.

“A favour.  Me.  You see, yore paw’s got a mortgage coming due on the tenth, and the reason yore paw went to Marysville was so he could be there bright and early to-morrow morning at the bank to renew the mortgage.  Ain’t I right?”