[PROLOGUE]
I
Tom seated himself at the table and looked into his wife's face with a smile:
"Nancy, it's a meal fit for a king!"
The supper over, he smoked his pipe before the cabin fire of blazing logs, while she cleared the wooden dishes. He watched her get the paper, goose-quill pen and ink as a prisoner sees the scaffold building for his execution.
"Now we're all ready," she said cheerfully.
The man laid his pipe down with a helpless look. A brief respite flashed through his mind. Maybe he could sidestep the lessons before she pinned him down.
"Lord, Nancy, I forgot my gun. I must grease her right away," he cried.
He rose with a quick decisive movement and took his rifle from the rack. She knew it was useless to protest and let him have his way.