wasn't worth running your neck into a halter for--no woman that
ever lived was worth that.

The correspondence, so far as Betty was responsible for it, bore
just on one point. She wanted Charley to promise that for a
time, at least, he would not attempt to see her. It seemed such
a needless risk to take, couldn't he be satisfied if he heard
from her every day?

Charley was regretful, but firm. Just as soon as he could mount
his horse he would ride down to Belle Plain. She was not to
distress herself on his account; he had been surprised, but this
should not happen again.

The calm manner in which he put aside her fears for his safety
exasperated Betty beyond measure. She scolded him vigorously.
Charley accepted the scolding with humility, but his resolution
was unshaken; he did not propose to vacate the public roads at
any man's behest; that would be an unwise precedent to establish.

Betty replied that this was not a matter in which silly vanity
should enter, even if his life was of no value to himself it did
not follow that she held it lightly. It required some eight
closely written pages for Charley to explain why existence would
be an unsupportable burden if he were denied the sight of her.

A week had intervened since the attack, and from Jeff, who always
brought Charley's letters, Betty learned more of Charley's
condition than Charley himself had seen fit to tell. According
to Jeff his master was now able to get around pretty tolerable