“Well, neighbour,” said the former in a tone of mild persuasion, “I hope you have thought better of the matter about which we were talking a few hours ago.”

“About Halpin’s right of way through my farm, you mean?”

“Yes.  I hope you have concluded to reopen the gate, and let things remain as they have been, at least for the present.  These offensive measures only provoke anger, and never do any good.”  Bolton shook his head.

“He has no right to trespass on my premises,” said he, sternly.

“As to the matter of right,” replied Mr. Dix, “I think, the general opinion will be against you.  By attempting to carry out your present purpose, you will subject yourself to a good deal of odium; which every man ought to avoid, if possible.  And in the end, if the matter goes to court, you will not only have to yield this right of way, but be compelled to pay costs of suit and such damages as may be awarded against you for expense and trouble occasioned Mr. Halpin.  Now let me counsel you to avoid all these consequences, if possible.”

“Oh, you needn’t suppose all this array of consequences will frighten me,” said Mr. Bolton.  “I don’t know what fear is.  I generally try to do right, and then, like Crockett, ‘go ahead.’”

“Still, Mr. Bolton,” urged the neighbour mildly, “don’t you think it would be wiser and better to see Mr. Halpin first, and explain to him how much you are disappointed at finding a right of way for another farm across the one you have purchased?  I am sure some arrangement, satisfactory to both, can be made.  Mr. Halpin, if you take him right, is not an unreasonable man.  He’ll do almost any thing to oblige another.  But he is very stubborn if you attempt to drive him.  If he comes home and finds things as they now are, he will feel dreadfully outraged; and you will become enemies instead of friends.”

“It can’t be helped now,” said Mr. Bolton.  “What’s done is done.”

“It’s not yet too late to undo the work,” suggested Mr. Dix.

“Yes, it is.  I’m not the man to make back-tracks.  Good-day, Mr. Dix?”

And speaking to his horse, Mr. Bolton started off at a brisk trot.  He did not feel very comfortable.  How could he?  He felt that he had done wrong, and that trouble and mortification were before him.  But a stubborn pride would not let him retrace a few wrong steps taken from a wrong impulse.  To the city he went, transacted his business, and then turned his face homeward, with a heavy pressure upon his feelings.

“Ah me!” he sighed to himself, as he rode along.  “I wish I had thought twice this morning before I acted once.  I needn’t have been so precipitate.  But I was provoked to think that any one claimed the right to make a public road through my farm.  If I’d only known that Halpin was a brother-in-law to Judge Caldwell!  That makes the matter so much worse.”

And on rode Mr. Bolton, thinking only of the trouble he had so needlessly pulled down about his ears.