“Two hundred and ninety-one dollars and forty cents,” said Yan, without hesitation—­and the three men sat back in their chairs and gasped.

It was the triumph of his life.  Even old Boyle beamed in admiration, and Raften glowed, feeling that not a little of it belonged to him.

There was something positively pathetic in the simplicity of the three shrewd men and their abject reverence for the wonderful scholarship of this raw boy, and not less touching was their absolute faith in his infallibility as a mathematician.

Raften grinned at him in a peculiar, almost a weak way.  Yan had never seen that expression on his face before, excepting once, and that was as he shook hands with a noted pugilist just after he had won a memorable fight.  Yan did not know whether he liked it or not.

On the road home Raften talked with unusual freeness about his plans for his son. (Yan began to realize that the storm had blown over.) He harped on his favourite theme, “eddication.”  If Yan had only known, that was the one word of comfort that Raften found when he saw his big boy go down:  “It’s eddication done it.  Oh, but he’s fine eddicated.”  Yan never knew until years afterward, when a grown man and he and Raften were talking of the old days, that he had been for some time winning respect from the rough-and-ready farmer, but what finally raised him to glorious eminence was the hip-throw that he served that day on Sam.

* * * * *

Raften was all right, Yan believed, but what of Sam?  They had not spoken yet.  Yan wished to make up, but it grew harder.  Sam had got over his wrath and wanted a chance, but did not know how.

He had just set down his two buckets after feeding the pigs when Minnie came toddling out.

“Sam!  Sam!  Take Minnie to ’ide,” then seeing Yan she added, “Yan, you mate a tair, tate hold Sam’s hand.”

The queen must be obeyed.  Sam and Yan sheepishly grasped hands to make a queen’s chair for the little lady.  She clutched them both around the neck and brought their heads close together.  They both loved the pink-and-white baby between them, and both could talk to her though not to each other.  But there is something in touch that begets comprehension.  The situation was becoming ludicrous when Sam suddenly burst out laughing, then: 

“Say, Yan, let’s be friends.”

“I—­I want—­to—­be,” stammered Yan, with tears standing in his eyes.  “I’m awfully sorry.  I’ll never do it again,”

“Oh, shucks!  I don’t care,” said Sam.  “It was all that dirty little sneak that made the trouble; but never mind, it’s all right.  The only thing that worries me is how you sent me flying.  I’m bigger an’ stronger an’ older, I can heft more an’ work harder, but you throwed me like a bag o’ shavings, I only wish I knowed how you done it.”

PART III

IN THE WOODS