"I reckon."

"Well, then, I think I can settle up matters here my own way, and go
with you, Bill."

He had risen, and yet hesitatingly kept his hand on the back of his
chair. "Bill!"

"Jeff!"

"I want to ask you a question; speak up, and don't mind me, but say the
truth."

Our crafty Ulysses, believing that he was about to be entrapped,
ensconced himself in his pockets, cocked one eye, and said: "Go on,
Jeff."

"Was my father VERY bad?"

Bill took his hands from his pockets. "Thar isn't a man ez crawls above
his grave ez is worthy to lie in the same ground with him!"

"Thank you, Bill. Good night; I'm going to turn in!"

"Look yar, boy! G-d d--n it all, Jeff! what do ye mean?"

There were two tears--twin sisters of those in his sweetheart's eyes
that afternoon--now standing in Jeff's!