"D'you suppose she'd go to court?"
"She wouldn't want to, but me—me an'—me an' Jud could coax her to do it," said 'Gene, shrewd in an instant. "I don't reckon folks remember about the courts, do they?"
Martin pulled his nerves together sufficiently to send a stream of tobacco juice into a knot-hole in the fence fifteen feet away, and said:
"Well, they'd oughter remember, by ginger!"
After a few minutes of rather energetic chewing for him (Martin rarely chewed tobacco vigorously because of the extravagance), he calmly reopened the conversation.
"When are you liable to git through plantin' over there?"
"In a couple of days, if it keeps dry."
"I'll let Bud Jones go over an' help you ef you need him."
"Oh, I c'n git along, I guess."
"I wuz thinkin' a little of sendin' Bud over this week with a couple bushels of potaters fer Jestine. Never seed sich potaters in my born days."