“Maybe, maybe, Elder,” said pa soothingly. “But you’re something of a hand at it yourself. And I’m asking you to see my wife in private. She’s got something on her mind, Elder, and she needs your help.”
“All right, brother McBirney,” the elder agreed. “Anything I can do for sister McBirney, it gives me pleasure to do, sir, for a better woman I never did know, and I’ve known a power of good ones in my time.”
Half an hour after they had got back to the clearing, Jimmy, who was standing around waiting for a chance to get acquainted with the boy who had come with the show people, heard his father and mother and Elder Mills bidding the show people to come into the kitchen. He knew well enough what they were going to talk about. His pa and ma were going to ask that poor girl of them. The mountain people who had gathered, and who were making themselves at home there in the clearing, seemed to guess what was in the wind. Jim heard his mother’s friend, Mrs. Leiter saying: “It would be the best thing that could come to the child. Mrs. McBirney would be a real mother to her; and like as not the child would put heart into Mrs. McBirney. She ain’t never been herself a minute since Molly was took. To my seeing, them show folks ain’t the kind to have charge of a child—particularly not a nice little girl like that one.”
By and by all of those who had been in the kitchen came out, and Jim could see from the way they looked that they hadn’t been able to agree. His mother’s face was whiter and more strained than ever; and the light in the old elder’s eyes was really fierce. The show people seemed out of humor and they went off by themselves and began cooking their dinner, having nothing to do with the mountain folks. Jim had to help his mother with her dinner then. She was asking the neighbors to share with her, and the women all turned in to pare potatoes and mix up corn bread and beat up eggs. There was a busy hour or two, and then after all had eaten, a sort of quiet settled on the gathering. They were waiting for the sun to slide a little further over the mountain, for the day was a very hot one for May. It gave Jim a chance to slip around from place to place, silent as a lizard and saying nothing. He wanted to get acquainted with the show boy, and after what seemed a long time, he found a chance to speak to him.
“If you want to come with me,” he said in his drawling, pleasant mountain voice, “I’ll show you my mill wheel.”
“Did you make it?” demanded the boy. He was a queer, black little creature, who looked as if he had been carved out of a nut. His arms were too long for his body, but they were so strong that he could “chin” himself on the low doorcasing of the shed without any trouble whatever. Jim had already discovered that. He had seen the boy hanging out on a long tree limb and dropping like a cat. All of his ways were quick and sharp, and he had a sly look like that of a half-fed hound. Jim never had seen a boy like this and he felt shy with him. But for all of that, he was determined to know him.
“’Deed and I made the wheel,” he said to the boy. “It runs right smart, too.”
“How far away is it?”
“Just down by the second waterfall. We don’t need to go ’round by the road. We can drop right down the face of the rocks.”
“All right,” said the boy.