hat?"

Bud listened gloomily, chewing the side of his finger.

"Them gover'men' fellers cain' make nothin'," went on Pink. "Firs'
place they's co'n at fifty cen's a bushel. One bushel o' co'n makes
about two gallons o' whisky; they's an _ex_-pense o' nigh twenty-five
cen's a gallon to begin with. Then the gauger comes 'roun', 'n ye have
to pay a tax on all he's smart enough to fin',--a dollar 'n ten cen's a
gallon. They's a dollar 'n thirty-five cen's a gallon befo' the stuff's
lef' yo' sto'house. 'N what payin' market c'n ye fin' fo' hit when any
feller who wan's c'n get all the moonshine he needs fo' a dollar or a
dollar 'n a quarter a gallon? Oh, Ah tell you, 'f ye wan' to make any
money with a gover'men' still ye gotter have a switch-off that the
gauger cain' fin. 'N 'f ye do that, ye might's well's, far's yo' morals
is concerned, do hit all moonshine 'n save those ex-penses Ah listed
fo' ye right now."

"Ah s'pose yo' right," assented Bud. "Blockadin's blockadin', whether
ye do hit by moon or day. Do you-all 'low Calkins might inform on us?"

"Him's runs the still back o' Buck? Ah don' guess so. He knows Ah could
tell the sto'keeper the whereabouts o' a pipe in his still-house that
don' run into no sto'house. Oh, no, he won' inform on us."

"Ah hope not," said Bud, dismally. "Anyway, you-all better come on down
now. Gimme that axe, will ye?"

"We gotter be right careful not to make no path comin' here. We better
never come twict the same way."

Bud nodded his understanding.

"Come on," he urged. "Ah'm's empty 's a gun."

XIX

Hilda

Pink roses and red swung to and fro in the sunshine as they climbed the
Doctor's whitewashed porch. Big bees hummed their sleepy drone from the
fragrant hearts of the flowers, and a humming-bird whirred busily in
and out in search of the honeysuckle that he loved. Up-stairs Mrs.
Morgan was darning stockings in the coolest room in the house,--a
bedroom with a northern exposure. A white shirt-waist gave a puffy look
to a body that could ill endure such appearance of enlargement, and a
black belt accentuated the amplitude of girth that it encircled. The
good lady sat in an armless rocking-chair, or rather _on_ it, for she
was by no means contained therein, but bulged over and beyond at all
points. Her feet, shod in heelless black slippers, above which puffed
white stockings, rested upon a low footstool, and her widespread knees
provided a generous lap for the support