"Have any trouble?" asked Mort.
"Naw," replied Rangoon, "we didn't have no trouble, but it took time tuh git back here in the dark an' the rain."
"You might've come back last night," said Vince.
"Better this way," said Rangoon. "Everything's fixed. Six men come an' we got all six. That's that. We'll have tuh keep a close check an' see that there ain't others comin' tuh learn what's happened when them six don't return."
"If any others come," Mort stated softly, "we'll know about it an' take care of them."
Rangoon gazed steadily at Mort. "You," he said, after a pause, "better give that wife of yores a lesson."
"He's goin' tuh!" promised Vince. Then the three men moved away, and Penny saw them disappear beyond the corner of a building.
For some time she sat at the window with her thoughts. Ever since her return, she had been bothered by an unexplainable apprehension. The Basin, which had been her home for many years, had always been a happy place despite her surly uncle and her cousins. Now the air of the place was changed. Bryant's surliness had trebled. On several occasions he had spoken sharply, even to Penny—a thing he'd never done before. At times the girl felt quite unwelcome in the only home she knew.
She pulled on her boots, still wondering what the three men were talking about. Her thoughts were punctuated by a period in the form of a soft rap on her bedroom door. Soft as it was, the rap was so unexpected that it startled Penny.