The washed-out blue, almost vacant eyes popped open wider in instant relief. Then I knew. Her man was a 'shiner, and she, seeing at a glance that I was not of the vicinity, had visions of revenue officers and penitentiaries when I vaguely declared I was looking for a person.
"Air you him?" she resumed, squinting one eye and giving a little jerk of her head.
From which I judged that my fame had gone abroad throughout all the region round about, and that her ambiguous query related to the unhappy dweller on old Baldy's lap.
"I'm him," I acquiesced, a dull misery making me careless of speech. "Have you seen Lessie this morning?" I repeated, listlessly.
The woman drew a deep breath of visible comfort.
"Naw. She 's gone a-visit'n'. Th' hull kit 'n' bil'n' uv 'em tuk train this morn'n' at peep o' day. I's over to Granny's yistiddy to borry a chunk o' soap. She 's tur'ble worrit, 'n' tol' me she 's go'n' 'way fur a spell."
"Where have they gone?"
"Snack Holler."
"Where 's that?"
"Lard knows! T' other en' o' th' worl', some'r's, lak 's not. Granny's got folks thur."