I know that for my own part I would be no party to a quarrel with you. But I also have reason to know that a man's own purpose is nothing when some one else wants to quarrel with him. Therefore for our dear Joy's sake——"

"Good!" murmured the Colonel. "Our dear Joy's sake!" Athlyne repeated the phrase—he loved to do so:

"For our dear Joy's sake will you not promise that you will never quarrel with me."

"Indeed I will give the promise—and more. Listen here, little girl, for it is for your sake. I find I have been wrong to quarrel so readily and without waiting to understand. If a nigger did it I think I'd understand, for I don't look for much from him. But I do expect much from myself; and therefore I'll go back a bit and go a bit farther. Hear me promise, so help me God, I'll never quarrel again! Quarrel to kill I mean of course. Now, sir, are you satisfied!" Joy flung herself into his arms cooing lovingly:

"Dear, dear Daddy. Oh thank you so much; you have made me so happy! That promise is the best wedding-gift you could possibly give me!" Athlyne took the hand extended to him and wrung it heartily:

"And I too, thank you, sir. And, as I want to share in all Joy's happiness and in her pleasant ways, I hope you will let me—as her husband—call you Daddy too?"

"Indeed you may, my boy; I'll be right glad!"

It was a happy trio that stood there, the two men's right hands clasping, and Joy once more holding the linked hands between hers.

"We may go join the Sheriff and Judy I think, little girl!" said the Colonel presently. He felt that he wanted to get back to himself from the unaccustomed atmosphere of sentiment which encompassed him.

"Just one moment—Daddy!" said Athlyne speaking the familiar name with an effort and looking at Joy as he did so. The approval shining from her beautiful eyes encouraged him, and he went on more freely: