You better take warning and watch me--Fisbee won't have no clear field from now on." The stranger leaned across to speak to Miss Briscoe and her sleeve touched the left shoulder of the old man with the patriarchal white beard.

A moment later he put his right hand to that shoulder and gently moved it up and down with a caressing motion over the shabby black broadcloth her garment had touched.
"Look at that old Fisbee!" exclaimed Mr.Martin, affecting indignation.
"Never be 'n half as spruced up and wide awake in all his life.

He's prob'ly got her to listen to him on the decorations of Nineveh--it's my belief he was there when it was destroyed.

Well, if I can't cut him out we'll get our respected young friend of the 'Herald' to do it." "Sh!" returned Miss Tibbs.

"Here he is." The seats upon the platform were all occupied, except the two foremost ones in the centre (one on each side of a little table with a lamp, a pitcher of ice-water, and a glass) reserved for the lecturer and the gentleman who was to introduce him.