em an' ther gist of ther matter war
that old Burrell Thornton agreed ter leave Kaintuck an' not never ter
come back no more. He war too pizen mean fer folks ter abide him, an'
his goin' away balanced up ther deadenin' of Mose Rowlett."

"Ye sez thet old hellion used ter dwell in this hyar house onc't?"

"Yes, sir, thet's what I'm noratin' ter ye. Atter he put out his fire
an' called his dawgs an' went away Caleb Harper tuck over ther leadin'
of ther Harpers and my uncle Jim Rowlett did likewise fer ther Doanes.
Both on 'em war men thet loved law-abidin' right good an' when they
struck hands an' pledged a peace they aimed ter see thet hit
endured--an' hit did. But till word come thet old Burrell Thornton war
dead an' buried, folks didn't skeercely breathe easy nohow. They used
ter keep hearin' thet he aimed ter come back an' they knowed ef he
did----"

There the speaker broke off and shrugged his powerful shoulders.

A brief silence fell, and through the sunflecks and the deep woodland
shadows came the little voices that were all of peace, but into
Rowlett's eyes flashed a sudden-born ghost of suspicion.

"How come _you_ ter git possession of ther place hyar?" he demanded. "Ye
didn't heir hit from Old Burrell Thornton's folks, did ye?"

The new occupant was prepared for this line of interrogation and he
laughed easily.

"Long erbout a year back," he said, "a feller named Thornton thet dwelt
over thar in Virginny got inter debt ter me an' couldn't pay out. He
give me a lease on this hyar place, but I didn't hev no chanst ter come
over hyar an' look at hit afore now."

Rowlett nodded a reassured head and declared heartily:

"I'm right glad ye hain't one of thet thar sorry brood. Nobody couldn't
confidence _them_."

Rowlett, as he rekindled the pipe that had died in the ardour of his
narration, studied the other through eyes studiously narrowed against
the flare of his match.

The newcomer himself, lost in thought, was oblivious of this scrutiny,
and it was as one speaking from revery that he launched his next
inquiry.

"Ther gal thet dwells with old man Harper.... She hain't his wife, air
she?"

The questioner missed the sudden tensely challenged interest that
flashed in the other's eyes and the hot wave of brick-red that surged
over the cheeks and neck of his visitor.

But Bas Rowlett was too adroit to betray by more than a single unguarded
flash his jealous reaction to mention of the girl and he respond