country means
ter me without Blossom! Folks knows how ter hate up hyar, but jest now,
somehow, I feels thet no man in all these God-forsaken mountings kin
hate life an' humanity like I hates 'em!"

Joel Fulkerson responded soberly though without reproof: "Yore man
Lincoln could go right on when things was turrible black. When his own
ends failed he still went on--fer others. He didn't give way ter hate.
He could go on tell he give his life hitself--fer dreams of betterin'
things thet needed betterment, an' he come from ther same blood as us."

"Wharfore in God's name does ye stand thar preachin' at me?" The young
man's reaction from stunned torpor to passion had brought with it
something like the fever of madness.

"Ye knows I holds with ye es ter schools--an' all fashion of
betterment--but what's them things ter me now? What I wants in this
hour is ter visit on ther man thet's ruint my life ther direst
punishment thet kin be meted out--an' he's cheatin' me by a-dyin'.
Listen--" He broke off and bent his head toward the wall of Blossom's
room and his voice took on a queer, almost maniacal note. "Kain't ye
heer her--in thar--groanin' out her heart! Let me git outen hyar.... I
kain't endure hit.... I'm liable ter do even _you_ an injury ef I
stays--albeit I loves ye!"

"I hates thet man in thar, too, Turner." The preacher laid a
restraining hand on his companion's taut arm and sought to soothe the
frenzy of wrath with the cool steadiness of his tone. "I've had need
ter pray fer strength against thet hate--but I've heered ther Stacy
rallyin' cry ter-night an' we've got ter hev speech."

"Speech hain't ergoin' ter mollify me. What I wants is ter hev ther
things I've suffered this night paid fer. Hit's all _got_ ter be paid
fer!" The inheritor of feudal instincts wheeled and burst from the
room, the preacher following more slowly but still determined.

Outside Turner halted. The ordeal through which he had passed had left
him shaken in a frenzy of passion, and he stood looking about him with
the gaze of a wild beast fretting under the feral urge of blood-lust.
With a clan easily inflamed and gathering to his call, Brother
Fulkerson realized the danger of that mood. Its menace must be met and
stemmed before it ran to a flood-tide of homicidal violence.

The preacher came close and spoke quietly.

"I don't know yit what tuck place ter night--over yon," he said. "I
only knows I've heered acrost ther hills a sound I'd p