Then Belle-Ann's one hand shot out and grasped Lem's sleeve imploringly.
"Oh, Lem—Lem!" she cried, "can't we get it out—oh! can't we hurry and take it out, Lem?" but even as she talked she knew the hopelessness of the intent in her mind.
"I 'low hits too late now, Belle-Ann," returned he, in tones a trifle unsteady. "Hit air God's buryin' now," he added, with no trace of venom in his tones.
"Hit air God's buryin' now."
"Oh!—Lem, it's too awful—too terrible to watch and think about," pursued Belle-Ann in half whispers broken with emotion. She dropped her lids and placed her hands over her eyes.
The night wind carried an ominous groan. A dully grinding, crepitating sound came up to the lofty heights of Eagle Crown.