“I've been studyin' about that myself,” said Devil Judd. Inside, the old step-mother had heard Dave's query.
“I seed the Red Fox this afternoon,” she quavered at the door.
“Whut was he doin' over hyeh?” asked Dave.
“Nothin',” she said, “jus' a-sneakin' aroun' the way he's al'ays a-doin'. Seemed like he was mighty pertickuler to find out when you was comin' back.”
Both men started slightly.
“We're all Tollivers now all right,” said the Hon. Samuel Budd
that night while he sat with Hale on the porch overlooking the
mill-pond—and then he groaned a little.
“Them Falins have got kinsfolks to burn on the Virginia side and they'd fight me tooth and toenail for this a hundred years hence!”
He puffed his pipe, but Hale said nothing.
“Yes, sir,” he added cheerily, “we're in for a hell of a merry time NOW. The mountaineer hates as long as he remembers and—he never forgets.”