"Oh! Cap'n Woodward. Well, I tell you what, he had mighty takin' ways. Look in his eye, an' you wouldn't see no muddy water; an' he had grit. They hain't no two ways about that. When I ast 'im out with us that night, he went like a man that had a stool to a quiltin'-bee; an' when Duke Dawson an' Sid Parmalee flung out some er the'r slurs, he thes snapt his fingers in the'r face, an' ups an' says, says he, 'Gents, ef youer up for a frolic, I'm your man, an' ef youer in for a fight, thes count me in,' says he. The boys wuz a little drinky," said Teague, apologetically.
Sis squeezed up a little closer against her father's shoulder.
"Did they fight, pap?"
"Lord bless you, no. I thes taken am' flung my han' in Duke's collar an' fetched 'im a shake er two, an put 'im in a good humour thereckly; an' then airterwerds Tip Watson sot 'em all right when he read out the letter you foun' on the floor."
"Oh, pap!" Sis exclaimed in a horrified tone, "I slapped that letter out of Mr. Woodward's hand!"
Teague laughed exultantly.
"What'd he say?"
"He didn't say anything. He looked like he expected the floor to open and swallow him. I never was so ashamed in my life. I've cried about it a thousand times."
"Why, honey, I wouldn't take an' cry 'bout it ef I wuz you."
"Yes you would, pap, if—if—you were me. I don't know what came over me; I don't know how I could be so hateful. No lady would ever do such a thing as that."