"Wal, 'Gena?"
"Is you hurt, honey?"
"Nary bit. How should I be? They run away ez quick ez I come. Did they 'buse you, 'Gena?"
"None of enny 'count," she answered, cautiously, for fear of raising his anger to a point beyond control—"only jest a tryin' ter make me tell whar you was—you an' 'Liab."
"Whar's yer clo'es, honey?"
"In de house, dar, only what I tore, getting away from 'em." "An' de chillen?"
"Dey's run out an' hid somewheres. Dey scattered like young pa'tridges."
"Dey's been hunted like 'em too, eh?"
He lays his hand in caution upon the bare shoulder next him, and they both crouch closer in the shadow and listen. All is quiet, except groans and stertorous breathing near the cabin.
"It's one of them damned villains. Let me settle him!" said Nimbus.