Mrs. Stucky made no response to this, and none seemed to be necessary. Bud sat and pulled his thin beard, and gazed in the fire. Presently he laughed and said:
"I jess bet a hoss you couldn't guess who I seed; now I jess bet that."
Mrs. Stucky rubbed the side of her face thoughtfully, and seemed to be making a tremendous effort to imagine whom Bud had seen.
"'Twer'n't no man, en 'twer'n't no Azalia folks. 'Twuz a gal."
"A gal!" exclaimed Mrs. Stucky.
"Yes'n, a gal, an' ef she wa'n't a zooner you may jess take an' knock my chunk out."
Mrs. Stucky looked at her son curiously. Her cold gray eyes glittered in the firelight as she held them steadily on his face. Bud, conscious of this inspection, moved about in his chair uneasily, shifting his feet from one side to the other.
"'Twer'n't no Sal Badger," he said, after a while, laughing sheepishly; "'twer'n't no Maria Matthews, 'twer'n't no Lou Hornsby, an' 'twer'n't no Martha Jane Williams, nuther. She wuz a bran'-new gal, an' she went ter the tavern, she did."
"I've done saw 'er," said Mrs. Stucky placidly.
"You done saw 'er, maw!" exclaimed Bud. "Well, the great Jemimy! What's her name, maw?"