"All right," said Zeke, remembering his potato patch and looking ruefully at the ascending sun as he hurried back to his work.
Bob went on his way and returned the horse to Lazar Brown's house; but Uncle Lazar was nowhere to be seen, and S'manthy was evidently out of humor.
"S'manthy, yer 's yer hoss," said Bob.
"Wal, you thes let 'im loose thar; I hain't got no time to bauther."
"How'd the boys come out las' night down 't Moscow?"
"Aw, I don' know, un I don' keer, neither. You're a low-lived passel uh loafers, all uh yeh, big an' leetle."
"W'y, S'manthy! You wuz that sweet las' night."
S'manthy was in a hurry about something, but she showed her irregular teeth as she disappeared around a corner of the cabin, looking back over her shoulder to say:
"You'e a purty one, hainch yeh, now?"
Bob's face shone with delight as he went on up the run to look for the bear's cubs. He succeeded in killing one of them and capturing the other alive, but he had to take them and his wounded dog home afoot. It seemed too great a venture to ask S'manthy to lend the horse a second time.