"I left Pete standing outside!"
Joe went to the door to call Pete, and just as he did so Yancey Garrow rode up on his gaunt brown horse. He held a package across the saddle in front of him, and his fiddle case was over his shoulder. Grinning, he dismounted.
"Lucy thought you might like to take this along. It's a ham and a side of bacon."
"You butchering now?"
"We always," and Yancey voiced what Joe knew was a bald-faced lie, "kill one hog in summer." Joe gulped. With the possible exception of John Seeley, who could afford it, nobody butchered in the summer. But the Garrows had wanted their departing friends to enjoy ham and bacon. Joe said,
"That's right good of you, Yancey."
"It's nothing," the other said airily. He carried the package of meat into the house.
Emma greeted him. "Hello, Yancey."
"Hi, Emma. I swear you get prettier every day. How you ever fell for an old he-coon like Joe is something I'll never understand." He shifted the fiddle to his other shoulder. Pete stood in the doorway, and seemed to be waiting.
"Play something, Yancey," Emma pleaded. "Play some music for us."