"Were there many people at the tollgate when the fight took place?" interrupted Justine. She was glowing with excitement.
"The place wuz full, an' Mr. Brown says he never did see sitch a scatterment as they wuz when 'Gene sailed into Jake. Jim Hardesty tried to git under the stove, an' Uncle Sammy Godfrey, old as he is, jumped clean over the counter an' upsot a half barrel of sugar. Ever'body run, an' nobody tried to help Jake, 'cept Doc Ramsey's mother, an' that's 'cause he goes with Liz Ramsey. They do tell that that's sure to be a match," and then the voluble Mrs. Crane branched off into other lanes of gossip.
The next Sunday a whole township saw Eugene Crawley walk into the little Presbyterian church on the hill and nervously take a seat near the stove. Mr. Marks, the minister, was reading the first hymn when 'Gene plunged into this strange place, and so great was the sensation that the reader, having stared blankly with the remainder of the witnesses, resumed reading on the opposite page and no one was the wiser. At first there was a certain fear in the hearts of all that he had come for no other purpose than to report the death of some loved one. No one dreamed that he had come to attend divine worship.
'Gene, himself, was astonished by his own temerity. It had taken all his courage to do it, and he was an humble man as he sat stiffly by the stove and looked at the upper left-hand corner of the organ. If the minister had uttered his name suddenly, 'Gene would have swooned. It was the first time he had been inside the church since a certain Christmas eve, twenty years before. When Deacon Asbury asked him, after service, if he intended to come regularly, now that he had begun, 'Gene's reserve vanished, and, transfixing the old gentleman with a glare, he roared:
"What is it to you, you old skinflint? You don't own the shebang, do you? I'll come ef I want to an' you needn't meddle about it either."
In consequence, the whole community said that his conversion was out of the question, and that all the pulpits in Indiana could not pull him out of the rut into which he had fallen. 'Gene, in truth, felt that he was not wanted in the church, and he went home with the conviction that the deacon's inquiry was inspired by the hope that such a sinner as he might not continue to blight the sanctuary with his presence.
A day or so later the word was carried to the tollgate by Charlie Spangler that Justine Sherrod was "sick-a-bed" and it "looked as though she was liable to have lung fever." Dr. Pollister called at her house and found her really ill. He took her in hand at once, and instructed Mrs. Crane to see that she remained in bed until he said she could get up.
"But who is to take care of the stock?" wailed the sick girl.
"Mrs. Crane and I will see to the stock, so don't you worry, Justine. You've got to stay in bed or Jud'll be coming to a funeral purty soon," observed the doctor, with the best of intentions, but with little tact. She gasped at the thought that she might die and leave Jud; her illness had been but a trifling matter to her until the grim old physician so plainly told her the truth. She realized that she was in danger and that she wanted Jud to sit by the bedside.
"Is it so serious, doctor?" she asked, anxiously.