"My dear sir! Still, you have ridden a long way," he said, laying his
finger on a king.
Winston laughed to hide his dismay. "I am sorry, sir. It was scarcely
fair to my partner. You would, however, have beaten us, any way."
Barrington gravely gathered up the cards. "We will," he said, "have
some music. I do not play poker."
Then, for the first time, Winston lost his head in his anger. "Nor do
I, sir."
Barrington only looked at him, but the farmer felt as though somebody
had struck him in the face, and, as soon as he conveniently could, bade
Miss Barrington good-night.
"But we expected you would stay here a day or two. Your place is not
ready," she said.
Winston smiled at her. "I think I am wise. I must feel my way."
Miss Barrington was won, and, making no further protest, signed to
Dane. "You will take Mr. Courthorne home with you," she said. "I
would have kept him here, but he is evidently anxious to talk over
affairs with some one more of his age than my brother is."
Dane appeared quite willing, and, an hour later, Winston sat, cigar in
hand, in a room of his outlying farm. It was furnished simply, but
there were signs of taste, and the farmer who occupied it had already
formed a good opinion of the man whose knowledge of his own profession
astonished him.
"So you are actually going to sell wheat in face of the Colonel's
views?" he said.
"Of course!" said Winston simply. "I don't like unpleasantness, but I
can allow no man to dictate my affairs to me.
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