"He cum short past sun-down," returned Belle-Ann as the two sat down on the bench.
"Ded he parley 'bout long?"
"Jest a short spell. I wouldn't talk t' em much."
Lem stood up. He was long and lank, but broad of shoulder for a boy of eighteen. He had a pleasing, intelligent countenance, with light, steadfast eyes that never looked askance. He removed his wide, soft hat and gazed up to Eagle Crown.
"Ded pap see Orlick?" he asked.
Belle-Ann shook her curls in the negative.
"Belle-Ann, ef yo' takes pertic'lar notice, every time Jutt Orlick cums t' Moon mountain somethin' alers happens—somethin' goes wrong. 'Peers like things starts back'ards."
"I 'low he air a hoodoo," observed Belle-Ann: "but he do look soldierfied, don't he, Lem?" she added, with a subtle regard for Orlick's military aspect and his bombastic airs.
Lem shot a jealous, reproachful look at the girl, turning sharply as she rose, and pointed down to a gap in the scrub timber, which was half lighted by the moon. They caught the fleeting shadow of a horseman mounting the trail to the cabin.
"Hit's Orlick!" Lem announced.