"Well, well, give me the gist of it in a word."

"I guess she's goin' to run away."

Holcroft groaned and almost staggered to his horses' heads, then led them to the roadside and tied them to a tree. Sitting down, as if too weak to stand, he buried his face in his hands. He could not bear to have Jane see his distress. "Tell your story," he said hoarsely, "quick, for I may have to act quickly."

"Guess yer will. Did yer know she was married?"

"No, to another man--married by a minister. He's been there with her." She little foresaw the effect of her words, for the farmer bounded to his feet with an oath and sprang to his horses.

"Stop!" cried Jane, tugging at his arm. "If you go rushin' home now, you'll show you've got no more sense than mother. You'll spoil everything. She aint goin' to run away with HIM--she said she wouldn't, though he coaxed and threatened to kill yer if she didn't. 'Fi's a man I wouldn't act like a mad bull. I'd find out how to get ahead of t'other man."

"Well," said Holcroft, in a voice that frightened the child, "she said she wouldn't run away with this scoundrel--of course not--but you say she's going to leave. She'll meet him somewhere--good God! But how should you understand? Come, let me get home!"

"I understand a sight more'n you do, and you go on so that I can't tell you anything. If you showed sense, you'd be glad I was lookin' out for you so I could tell you everything. What's the good of goin' rampaigin' home when, if you'd only listen, you could get even with that scoundrel, as yer call 'im, and make all right," and Jane began to cry.