Harlson unbuckled the strap about the man's hands and threw it into the bushes at the roadside.
The farmer straightened himself up, reached out his arms, clutched his palms together, and looked at the other man.

Harlson spoke bluntly.
"Yes, I know you want to try it again.

But, as I feel now, it could only end one way.

I don't mind.

I only wanted to loose you before I say what I wanted to say, so that you wouldn't think I was making terms on my own account." "Go on," said Woodell, gruffly, still stretching his arms.
"Well, it is just this.