“Not in a hundred!” said Sam eagerly.  “I’d just as soon talk to Miss Beecham as not.  I’d ruther.  They ain’t no feller around here that I think’s any whiter than you be.  An’ Lord knows, that girl down there is handsome as ever looked through a bridle, and kind as she is handsome.  I’ve seen her now, reg’lar, in my trips down there for quite a while, an’ I promise you, she’s a thoroughbred, an’ high strung, but as even gaited as ever stepped.  Yes, sir!”

“She is all that, I think, Sam,” said Franklin soberly.

“Then it’s a go, Cap?”

“Well, I’ll tell you, Sam,” said Franklin kindly, “maybe we’d better let it run along a little while as it is.  You know, girls have odd notions of their own.  Perhaps a girl would rather have a man speak for himself about that sort of thing.  And then, the asking sometimes is the easiest part of it.”

“Then you’ll ast Nory for me?”

“Well, if I could say a word, just a hint, you know—­”

“You won’t!” exclaimed Sam bitterly, and in tones; of conviction.  “You won’t!  There ain’t nobody won’t!  I’ve tried, an’ there won’t nobody!  There’ll be some d——­d cow-puncher blow in there some day and marry that Nory girl, an’ I never will git to tell her the way I feel.”

“Oh, yes, you will,” said Franklin.  “It’ll come to you some time; and when it does, friend,” he added gravely, laying a hand upon Sam’s shoulder, “I hope she’ll not say no to you forever.”

“Forever, Cap?”

“Yes, it sometimes happens that way.”

“Forever?  Well, if Nory ever said no to me onct, that shore would settle it.  I know what I’d do:  I’d sell out my barn an’ I’d hit the trail mighty quick.  Do they ever do that way, Cap?”

“Yes,” said Franklin, “they tell me that they sometimes do.  They’re strange creatures, Sam.”

“An’ that’s no lie!” said Sam.  “But here, I’m forgettin’ of your span.”

He disappeared within the barn, whence presently arose sounds of tumult.  The “span” emerged with one half of its constituent parts walking on its hind legs and lashing out viciously in front.

“Well, I don’t know about that black,” said Franklin critically.  “He’s a bit bronco, isn’t he?”

“What, him?” said Sam.  “Naw, he’s all right.  You don’t suppose I’d run in any wild stock on you, do you?  He’s been hitched up sever’l times, an’ he’s plumb gentle.  May rare up a little at first, but he’s all right.  Of course, you want to have a little style about you, goin’ down there.”

Franklin got into the buggy, while Sam held the head of the “plumb gentle” horse.  When cast loose the latter reared again and came down with his fore feet over the neck yoke.  Nimbly recovering, he made a gallant attempt to kick in the dashboard.  This stirred up his mate to a thought of former days, and the two went away pawing and plunging.  “So long!” cried Sam, waving his hand.  “Good luck!”