At this point Mr. Kelso returned with his gun on his shoulder and was introduced to Mr. Biggs.

“I welcome you to the hazards of my fireside,” said Kelso.  “So you’re from St. Louis and stopped for repairs in this land of the ladder climbers.  Sit down and I’ll put a log on the fire.”

“Thank you, I must go,” said Biggs.  “The doctor will be looking for me now.”

“Can I not stay you with flagons?” Kelso asked.

“The doctor has forbidden me all drink but milk and water.”

“A wise man is Dr. Allen!” Kelso exclaimed.  “Cervantes was right in saying that too much wine will neither keep a secret nor fulfill a promise.”

“Will you make me a promise?” Bim asked of Mr. Biggs, as he was leaving the door with Ann.

“Anything you will ask,” he answered.

“Please don’t ever look at the new moon through a knot hole,” she said in a half whisper.

The young man laughed.  “Why not?”

“If you do, you’ll never get married.”

“I mustn’t look at the new moon through a knot hole and I must beware of the flute and the snare drum,” said Mr. Biggs.

“Don’t be alarmed by my daughter’s fancies,” Kelso advised.  “They are often rather astonishing.  She has a hearty prejudice against the flute.  It is well founded.  An ill played flute is one of the worst enemies of law and order.  Goldsmith estranged half his friends with a grim determination to play the flute.  It was the skeleton in his closet.”

So Mr. Eliphalet Biggs met the pretty daughter of Jack Kelso.  On his way back to the tavern he told Ann that he had fallen in love with the sweetest and prettiest girl in all the world—­Bim Kelso.  That very evening Ann went over to Kelso’s cabin to take the news to Bim and her mother and to tell them that her father reckoned he belonged to a very rich and a very grand family.  Naturally, they felt a sense of elation, although Mrs. Kelso, being a woman of shrewdness, was not carried away.  Mr. Kelso had gone to Offut’s store and the three had the cabin to themselves.

“I think he’s just a wonderful man!” Bim exclaimed.  “But I’m sorry his name is so much like figs and pigs.  I’m plum sure I’m going to love him.”

“I thought you were in love with Harry Needles,” Bim’s mother said to her.

“I am.  But he keeps me so busy.  I have to dress him up every day and put a mustache on him and think up ever so many nice things for him to say, and when he comes he doesn’t say them.  He’s terribly young.”

“The same age as you.  I think he is a splendid boy—­so does everybody.”

“I have to make all his courage for him, and then he never will use it,” Bim went on.  “He has never said whether he likes my looks or not.”

“But there’s time enough for that—­you are only a child,” said her mother.  “You told me that he said once you were beautiful.”

“But he has never said it twice, and when he did say it, I didn’t believe my ears, he spoke so low.  Acted kind o’ like he was scared of it.  I don’t want to wait forever to be really and truly loved, do I?”