hin and boyish in the height of his emotion, as if it would break in
the treble shallows.

"Don't fool with me or I'll hurt you," said Morgan. "Keep your
nose----"

"Let her alone!" commanded Joe sternly, his voice sinking again even
below its accustomed level, gruff and deep in his chest. "I heard you--I
didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it--and I know what you're up to
tonight. Don't come around here tonight after her, for I'm not going to
let her go."

"Ya-a, you pup, you pup!" said Morgan nastily.

"It's a hard life for her here--I know that better than you do," said
Joe, passing over the insult, "but you can't give her any better--not as
good. What you've done can't be undone now, but I can keep you from
dragging her down any further. Don't you come back here tonight!"

"If you keep your fingers out of the fire," said Morgan, looking at the
ground, rolling a fallen apple with his toe, "you'll not get scorched.
You stick to your knittin' and don't meddle with mine. That'll be about
the healthiest thing you can do!"

"If Isom knew what you've done he'd kill you--if he's even half a man,"
said Joe. "She was a good woman till you came, you hound!"

"She's a good woman yet," said Morgan, with some feeling, "too good for
that old hell-dog she's married to!"

"Then let her stay good--at least as good as she is," advised Joe.

"Oh, hell!" said Morgan disgustedly.

"You can't have her," persisted Joe.

"We'll see about that, too," said Morgan, his manner and voice
threatening. "What're you goin' to do--pole off and tell the old man?"

"I'll do what Isom left me here to do, the rest of the time he's away,"
said Joe. "Ollie shan't leave the house tonight."

"Yes, you flat-bellied shad, you want her yourself--you're stuck on her
yourself, you fool! Yes, and you've got just about as much show of
gittin' her as I have of jumpin' over that tree!" derided Morgan.

"No matter what I think of her, good or bad, she'd be safe with me," Joe
told him, searching his face accusingly.

"Yes, of course she would!" scoffed Morgan. "You're one of these saints
that'll live all your life by a punkin and never poke it with your
finger. Oh, yes, I know your kind!"

"I'm not going to quarrel with you, Morgan, unless you make me," said
Joe; "but you've got the wrong end of the stick. I don't want her, not
the way you do, anyhow."

Morgan looked at him closely, then put out his hand with a gesture of
conciliation.

"I'll tak