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 That finished me. I lost what little nerve I had, an' grew Dead certain that I looked a fool, an' that she thought so, too. She talked some more; but I can't tell what other things she said. I went all cold, except my ears, an' they were burnin' red.

I only know her eyes were soft, her voice was kind an' low. I never spoke another word exceptin' "Yes" an' "No." I never felt a bigger chump in all my livin' days. Well knowin' I was gettin' worse at every word she says.

An' when she went off with the rest I stood there, lookin' sick, Until I caught a chance remark of little Dusty Dick. "What price the widders now?" says he. I answer fierce an' low: "Were you addressin' me?" I says; an' Dick was prompt with "No!"

I don't know how I finished up; my thoughts were far from clear; For, in between me an' the bench, that vision would appear. No other man chucked off at me, but by their looks 'twas plain I'd lost a bit of that respect it took a fight to gain.

An', when the knock-off whistle blew, Ben Murray he came by. An' says he'd like that private talk, but, "Pickle it," says I.