Thus does justice live even in the hills.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
ANOTHER STRANGER.
Mr. Matthews and his son first heard of the stranger through Lou Gordon, the mail carrier, who stopped at the mill on his way to Flag with the week’s mail.
The native rode close to the shed, and waited until the saw had shrieked its way through the log of oak, and the carriage had rattled back to first position. Then with the dignity belonging to one of his station, as a government officer, he relieved his overcharged mouth of an astonishing quantity of tobacco, and drawled, “Howdy, men.”
“Howdy, Lou,” returned Young Matt from the engine, and Old Matt from the saw.
“Reckon them boards is fer a floor in Joe Gardner’s new cabin?”
“Yes,” returned Old Matt; “we ought to got ’em out last week, but seems like we couldn’t get at it with the buryin’ an’ all.”
“’Pears like you all ’r gettin’ mighty proud in this neighborhood. Puncheon floors used t’ be good enough fer anybody t’ dance on. Be a buildin’ board houses next, I reckon.”
Mr. Matthews laughed, “Bring your logs over to Fall Creek when you get ready to build, Lou; we’ll sure do you right.”
The representative of the government recharged his mouth. “’Lowed as how I would,” he returned. “I ain’t one o’ this here kind that don’t want t’ see no changes. Gov’ment’s all th’ time makin’ ’provements. Inspector ’lowed last trip we’d sure be a gettin’ mail twice a week at Flag next summer. This here’s sure bound t’ be a big country some day.