"Notice to quit," he muttered. Then he grinned pleasantly. "Reckon a perfect gen'leman 'd take the hint and clear out. But I ain't a perfect gen'leman. What in thunder ails the girl?"
* * * * *
It was nearly seven when Pap Ransom reached his corral. Smoky had milked the cow and fed the pigs. In the kitchen Mintie was frying some potatoes and stirring the big pot full of beans and bacon. From time to time Smoky had caught a glimpse of her white apron as she whisked in and out of the kitchen. Although a singularly modest youth, he conceived the idea that Mintie was interested in his doings, whereas we must admit that she was more concerned about her father. However, when she saw Pap ascend the hill, carrying his rifle over his shoulder, her face resumed its ordinary expression, and from that minute she gave to the simple preparations for supper undivided attention.
"Whar's the liver?" said Smoky, as the old man nodded to him.
"Liver?"
"Heard a shot, jest one, and made certain a good buck was on his back."
"I never fired no shot," said Ransom slowly.
"Wal, I'm hanged! Is there another Sharp besides mine in these yere hills?"
"I dessay. I heard one shot myself, 'bout two hours ago."
"Guess it was one o' them derned squatters."