ed a deef
ear to our petitions. We hardly ever see you now an we are afraid you
are goin to git into serious trouble. We want you to give up
moonshinin, quit drinkin an settle down. We both think if you would
jest git you a good wife you would act better. I wish you would go an
marry that girl at the hotel--you know who I mean. I am as sorry for
her as I ever was for anybody, for she dont think you love her much.
She told me all about it the night the revenue men give you sech a
close shave. I was standin on the hotel porch when you driv the wagon
up with the whiskey barrel on it an I heerd them a-lopin along the road
after you. I thought it was all up with you for I knowed they could go
faster than you. Then I seed her run out on the back porch an help you
roll the whiskey in the kitchen an close the door. An when the
officers com up you was a-settin on the empty wagon talkin to her as if
nothin had happened. I heard all the lies she told em about seein
another wagon go whizzin down the road an I thought it was a great pity
for her to do it, but she was doin it for a man she loved an I wouldent
hold that agin her. A woman that loves as hard as she does would do a
sight wuss than that if it was necessary. After you loaded the whiskey
back on the wagon and got away to the woods, I went round an told her
what I had seed an she bust out cryin an throwed her arms round my neck
an said she loved you better than she did her own life an that she
never would love any other man as long as breeth was in her body. Son,
that night she come as nigh beggin me to git you to marry her as a
proud girl could, an when I left I promised her I would talk to you
about it. She's a good girl, Toot, and it would make a man of you to
marry her. I like her mighty well an so does yore mother. Please do
come out home soon. It looks like a pity for you to be away so much
when it worries yore ma like it does.

"Yore affectionate father,

"JOHN WAMBUSH."

Westerfelt folded the letter deliberately, and then in a sudden spasm
of jealous despair he crumpled it in his hand. He turned his head on
the side and pressed down his pillow that he might see Harriet as she
sat by the fire. The red firelight shone in her face. She looked
tired and troubled.

"Poor girl!" he murmured. "Poor girl! Oh, God, have mercy on me! She
loves him--she loves him!"

She looked up and caught his eyes. "Did you want anything?" she asked.

He gave