"You're awfully wicked, Nan," he said definitively.
"'Cause I don't believe all that about the woman and the snake and the apple and the man?"
"You'll go to hell when you die, and then I guess you'll believe," said Thomas Jefferson, still more definitively.
She took a red apple from the pocket of her ragged frock and gave it to him.
"What's that for?" he asked suspiciously.
"You eat it; it's the kind you like—off 'm the tree right back of Jim Stone's barn lot," she answered.
"You stole it, Nan Bryerson!"
"Well, what if I did? You didn't."
He bit into it, and she held him in talk till it was eaten to the core.
"Have you heard tell anything more about the new railroad?" she asked.