AN UNEXPECTED JOLT

It was a hot afternoon, and Zebedee Burns found the shade of the big maple near his workshop very refreshing. He was sitting with his back against the trunk of the tree, his eyes riveted upon the front page of The Live Wire, which the mailman had just left. So intent was he upon what he was reading that he did not notice a man walking toward him from the road. It was Abner, who, when a few yards away, stopped and stood for a few seconds studying his neighbor.

"Some people kin take life easy," Abner presently remarked. "Comes nat'ral, I guess."

Zebedee merely glanced at his visitor, and without a word continued his reading.

"What's the news, Zeb?" Abner asked, coming close and squatting down upon the grass. "Must be mighty interestin' by the way ye keep ye'r eyes glued upon that page."

Zebedee lowered the paper and looked quizzically at his companion.

"Say, Abner," he began, "what were ye doin' yesterday?"

"What was I doin' yesterday! What de ye mean? Wasn't I Abner Andrews?"

"Ye couldn't have been accordin' to this mornin's paper. Ye must have been one o' them ancients ye've told me about so often, an' a mighty savage one at that."

"Hey, what are ye givin' me? What's that dirty sheet sayin' about decent people now?"

"Isn't it true?"

"What true?"

"That you acted like a fool or a lunatic in town yesterday; waylaid a girl drivin' along Main street; that she beat you black an' blue with her whip, an' then had you arrested?"

Abner was on his feet in an instant, greatly excited.

"Is that what it says?" he roared.

"Sure, haven't I jist told ye?"

"But doesn't it explain anythin'? Doesn't it tell who the gal was, an' why I did what I did?"

"Here, read it fer ye'rself," and Zeb handed him the paper.

Slowly and carefully Abner read the article which occupied a prominent position, and was featured in big headlines. The writer had made the most of the incident, and the fact that the girl was the daughter of the Attorney General added all the more to the interest. The story was distorted beyond all semblance of reality and mingled with humor. It ended by saying that the culprit was allowed to go owing to the girl, who interceded on his behalf.

Abner's body trembled from the vehemence of his anger, and when he had finished reading he thrust the paper under Zebedee's nose.

"De ye believe that?" he demanded.

"Ain't it true?" Zeb asked.

"True! True! Did ye ever see anythin' true in that rag? It's a lie, a d—n lie, an' I'm goin' to punch the nose of that feller wot wrote it, see if I don't."

"Ye better be careful," Zeb warned. "Ye might have to punch several noses, the editor's included."

"An' de ye think I can't do it? I kin wipe up the hull bunch with one hand. I'll make 'em take backwater, an' apologize right smart. Why can't they leave decent honest people alone? They've got more ink than brains. If they'd spend some of their energy writin' about Hen Whittles' vile dump, an' how he wants to sell the place fer one thousand dollars fer that Orphan Home, it 'ud be more sensible."

"Are they thinkin' of puttin' the Home on that dump?" Zeb asked in surprise.

"That's jist it. An' they want my money to buy the hole, which is a dam sight worse than that old Toefat of the Bible."

"Did they ask you fer the money?"

"Sure. Lawyer Rackshaw is doin' the bizness, an' when he asked me yesterday fer the money, I burnt the end of his nose with the cigar I was smokin'. It was too bad to spoil a good cigar on a thing like that."

"An' what did he do?"

"Nuthin' 'cept tumble backwards on the floor, chair an' all. He got the jolt of his life that time, all right."

"Ye better be careful," Zeb advised. "Lawyer Rackshaw's not likely to fergit a thing like that, an' I've heard say that he never fergives."

"I hope he won't fergit his burnt nose, an' I don't care a blue divil if he doesn't fergive."

"You must like to be in hot water, Abner."

"I don't mind at all, 'specially when others are in with me. I've got a pretty tough skin, an' kin stand more'n most people."

"Guess ye'r right, Abner," Zeb agreed, as he rose to his feet. "I must git to work now."

Abner went back to his haying, and worked with feverish energy. He was more irritated than usual over the article which had appeared in The Live Wire, and he vowed that the editor should apologize for the insult.

"Mebbe they'll find that they can't take liberties with Abner Andrews," he muttered, "even though he doesn't wear biled shirts an' white collars."

When he had worked for about half an hour he went into the house for a drink of buttermilk. As he came out of the milk-room he heard a knock upon the front door.

"Who in time kin that be, now?" he growled, as he shuffled through the dining-room and into the hall-way. Glancing through the small window, he saw an auto in front of the house, with a young man at the wheel.

The door was locked and when Abner tried to turn the key it stuck.

"Hang the thing," he growled. "What's the matter with it, anyway?"

After several minutes of desperate efforts, punctured by numerous ejaculations of disgust and anger, the key turned, the lock moved, and Abner pulled the door open with a savage yank. Great was his surprise to see standing before him a smartly dressed woman, smiling in a most pleasant manner.

"Excuse me," she began. "I am sorry to give you so much trouble. But does Mr. Andrews live here?"

"Naw, he jist sleeps here, an' lives out of doors."

"But it's your place, isn't it?"

"Yes, I s'pose so, when Tildy's not around."

"I have come to see Miss Rivers," the woman explained. "She's staying with you, is she not?"

"Yep, she's here all right, but jist now she's out pickin' berries with Tildy an' Jess. So ye want to see her, eh?"

"Yes, if it's not too much trouble."

"'Tain't no trouble fer me, though it might be fer Belle. Come in an' set down while I toot the horn."

Throwing open a door to the left, Abner ushered the visitor into the parlor.

"Set right down, an' make ye'rself at home," he told her.

The woman smiled to herself as Abner left her. Then she studied the room most critically............