too much daylight fer him. Ef he jes don't come
a-sneakin' over hyeh, 'n' waitin' in the lorrel atter dark fer me, it's
all I axe."

"Waitin' in the lorrel!" Old Gabe could hold back no longer. "Hit's a
shame, a burn-in' shame! I don' know whut things air comm' to! 'Pears
like all you young folks think about is killin' somebody. Folks usen
to talk about how fer they could kill a deer; now it's how fer they kin
kill a man. I hev knowed the time when a man would 'a' been druv out
o' the county fer drawin' a knife ur a pistol; 'n' ef a feller was ever
killed, it was kinder accidental, by a Barlow. I reckon folks got use'
to weepons 'n' killin' 'n' bushwhackin' in the war. Looks like it's been
gittin' wuss ever sence, 'n' now hit's dirk 'n' Winchester, 'n' shootin'
from the bushes all the time. Hit's wuss 'n stealin' money to take a
feller-creetur' s life that way!"

The old miller's indignation sprang from memories of a better youth. For
the courtesies of the code went on to the Blue Grass, and before the
war the mountaineer fought with English fairness and his fists. It was a
disgrace to use a deadly weapon in those days; it was a disgrace now not
to use it.

"Oh, I know all the excuses folks make," he went on: "hit's fa'r fer one
as 'tis fer t'other; y'u can't fight a man fa'r 'n' squar' who'll shoot
you in the back; a pore man can't fight money in the couhts; 'n' thar
hain't no witnesses in the lorrel but leaves; 'n' dead men don't hev
much to say. I know it all. Hit's cur'us, but it act'-ally looks like
lots o' decent young folks hev got usen to the idee-thar's so much of
it goin' on, 'n' thar's so much talk 'bout killin' 'n' layin' out in the
lorrel. Reckon folks 'll git to pesterm' women n' strangers bimeby, 'n'
robbin' 'n' thievin'. Hit's bad enough thar's so leetle law thet folks
hev to take it in their own hands oncet in a while, but this shootin'
from the bresh-hit's p'int'ly a sin 'n' shame! Why," he concluded,
pointing his remonstrance as he always did, "I seed your grandad and
young Jas's fight up thar in Hazlan full two hours 'fore the war-fist
and skull-'n' your grandad was whooped. They got up and shuk hands. I
don't see why folks can't fight that way now. I wish Rufe 'n' old Jas
'n' you 'n' young Jas could have it out fist and skull, 'n' stop this
killin' o' people like hogs. Thar's nobody left but you four. But thar's
no chance o' that, I reckon."

"I'll fight him anyway, 'n' I reckon ef he don't die