thing to down Het,
but that did. She set up on the edge o' the bed, makin' wild stabs with
'er feet at 'er slippers, and lookin' wall-eyed an' scared.

"'Pa,' says she, 'this is one o' yore jokes.'

"'Joke a dog's hind-foot!' says I. 'If you think it's a joke you jest
step to that thar window an' look down at the peach-packin' shed.'

"Well, sir, you don't have to tell a woman twice how to verify an
important report. She riz like she was on springs, an' thumped across
the room in her stockin'-feet, an' looked out o' the window, with me
right in her wake. An' thar, as plain as a sheep in the middle of a
stream, stood Dick a-pealin' an' eatin' the peaches his mammy was
fetchin' him. An' now comes the part that may not suit you, Alf, one
bit; but I've come to fetch the whole truth an' nothin' but the truth.
In consideration of what Het has fell heir to, an' one thing an'
another, it may not be good news to you to hear that, instead o' lookin'
sorry, Het actually chuckled an' reddened up like a gal in her teens.

"'It's him!' she said. 'Thank God, it's Dick--it's Dick!'

"I couldn't pull 'er away from the window. She jest leaned agin the sash
an' stared, an' rubbed 'er hands together, an' went on like she was
gettin' religion. Then I set in, as well as I knowed how, to tell 'er
about Dick's mishap, but she waved her hand backward-like, an' stopped
me. 'Leave all that out,' she said, sorter impatient, as if she couldn't
think of but one thing at a time. 'You needn't tell about that--he's
alive, that's enough--Dick's alive!' And, would you believe it, folks?
She flopped herself down in a chair an' cried and tuck on at a great
rate. It upset me so that I give up the whole dang business. I went down
an' told Dick he'd better go attend to 'er. He axed me how the crazy
spell went down, an' I told 'im I didn't think she'd even heard it, or
ever would, for that matter. Women seem to scent a thing from far off
that they don't want to believe, an' close every pore of their bodies
an' eyes an' ears so it can't get in."

"Well, what was the final upshot of it all?" Henley was quite calm,
though a great new light was flaring in his eyes as they rested on
Dixie, who was looking off in the direction of the mountain, her little
hands grasping the palings of the fence, her tense body thrown slightly
backward.

"Dick's my own son," Wrinkle made answer, "but I got out o' all patience
with him. He ought to 'a' let well enough alone, bei