“I couldn't git along without her.”
The little girl's eyes began to dance suddenly, and, without opening “Mother Goose,” she began:
“Jack and Jill went up a hill,” and then she broke into a laugh and Hale laughed with her.
Abruptly, the boy opposite rose to his great length.
“I reckon I better be goin'.” That was all he said as he caught up a Winchester, which stood unseen by his side, and out he stalked. There was not a word of good-by, not a glance at anybody. A few minutes later Hale heard the creak of a barn door on wooden hinges, a cursing command to a horse, and four feet going in a gallop down the path, and he knew there went an enemy.
“That's a good-looking boy—who is he?”
The old man spat into the fire. It seemed that he was not going to answer and the little girl broke in:
“Hit's my cousin Dave—he lives over on the Nawth Fork.”
That was the seat of the Tolliver-Falin feud. Of that feud, too, Hale had heard, and so no more along that line of inquiry. He, too, soon rose to go.
“Why, ain't ye goin' to have something to eat?”