"No-deedy! He's spry, too; but dis'n I'm talkin' 'bout jes' come."
"Yes, I heard about him," she said. "A sort of hill-billy, isn't he?"
"Now, how'd you heah dat?" the old fellow looked down at her. "He only got dar las' night!"
"I don't remember—somebody came by an' told Pappy, I reckon."
"It do beat all how tales travel," he doubtfully shook his head. "But don' you put no stock in him bein' a hill-billy! Long haih an' s'penders don' make no greenhorn. Dey never has yit, an' dey never will—any moh'n a Adam's Apple do; an' I got a Adam's Apple mahse'f, sech as 'tis! I got sumfin else, too!" He slowly closed one eye and looked up at the sky.
"A note?" she laughed.
"Dat ain' so fur off!"
"A message?"
"You sho' guessed it dat time!" he chuckled. "Some-un suttenly do a lot of thinkin' 'bout some-un—dat's all I got to say!"
"Does he?" she blushed. It pleased her to have this old man tease. It was her only outlet; he was the only one who shared the secrets of their trysts.