“Now, you keep away from here–keep away!” he warned, his voice growing thin and boyish in the height of his emotion, as if it would break in the treble shallows.
“Don’t fool with me or I’ll hurt you,” said Morgan. “Keep your nose––”
“Let her alone!” commanded Joe sternly, his voice sinking again even below its accustomed level, gruff and deep in his chest. “I heard you–I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it–and I know what you’re up to tonight. Don’t come around here tonight after her, for I’m not going to let her go.”
“Ya-a, you pup, you pup!” said Morgan nastily.
“It’s a hard life for her here–I know that better than you do,” said Joe, passing over the insult, “but you can’t give her any better–not as good. What you’ve done can’t be undone now, but I can keep you from dragging her down any further. Don’t you come back here tonight!”
“If you keep your fingers out of the fire,” said Morgan, looking at the ground, rolling a fallen apple with his toe, “you’ll not get scorched. You stick to your knittin’ and don’t meddle with mine. That’ll be about the healthiest thing you can do!”
“If Isom knew what you’ve done he’d kill you–if he’s even half a man,” said Joe. “She was a good woman till you came, you hound!”
“She’s a good woman yet,” said Morgan, with some feeling, “too good for that old hell-dog she’s married to!”
“Then let her stay good–at least as good as she is,” advised Joe.