m you've got!"

The girl ladled out for him the last spoonful of soup, then went and
stood with her foot upon the cradle rocker. "I reckon you ain't that
kind," she said beneath her breath. "If you ever had pneumonia I bet it
was before the war!"

Steve finished his dinner, leaned back in his chair and stretched
himself. "Gawd! if I just had a nip. Look here, ma'am! I don't believe
you gave all that apple brandy away. S'pose you look and see if you
wasn't mistaken."

"There isn't any."

"You've got too pretty a mouth to be lying that-a-way! Look-a-here, the
doctor prescribed it."

"You've had dinner and you've rested. There's a wood road over there
that cuts off a deal of distance to Middletown. It's rough but it's
shady. I believe if you tried you could get to Middletown almost as soon
as the army."

"Didn't I tell you I had a furlough? Where'd you keep that peach brandy
when you had it?"

"I'm looking for James home any minute now. He's patrolling between here
and the pike."

"You're lying. You said he was with Ashby, and Ashby's away north to
Newtown--the damned West P'inter that marches at the head of the brigade
said so! You haven't got the truth in you, and that's a pity, for
otherwise I like your looks first-rate." He rose. "I'm going foraging
for that mountain dew--"

The girl moved toward the door, pushing the cradle in front of her.
Steve stepped between, slammed the door and locked it, putting the key
in his pocket. "Now you jest stay still where you are or it'll be the
worse for you and for the baby, too! Don't be figuring on the window or
the back door, 'cause I've got eyes in the side of my head and I'll
catch you before you get there! That thar cupboard looks promising."

The cupboard not only promised; it fulfilled. Steve's groping hand
closed upon and drew forth a small old Revolutionary brandy bottle quite
full. Over his shoulder he shot a final look at once precautionary and
triumphant. "You purty liar! jest you wait till I've had my dram!" An
old lustre mug stood upon the shelf. He filled this almost to the brim,
then lifted it from the board. There was a sound from by the door,
familiar enough to Steve--namely, the cocking of a trigger. "You put
that mug down," said the voice of his hostess, "or I'll put a bullet
through you! Shut that cupboard door. Go and sit down in that chair!"

"'Tain't loaded! I drew the cartridge."

"You don't remember whether you did or not! And you aren't wi