"Yes, a few," admitted Joab; "Serildy Byng, that next-to-last of his, she got to talking some to a couple of the Lusks, and paw got wind of it, and kotch 'em a-hanging around one day. But he never kilt but one dead; and soon as t'other got able to talk, he sot all the Lusks ag'in paw,—there was nine on his track, laywaying and ambushing. At last one day they all rid up behind him over on the head of Rakeshin. He seed a turn in the road ahead, where there was a big rock. Every time they'd shoot, he'd jump like he was hit; and just as he got to the rock, he spraddled out flat on his nag, like he was dead. That was the last they seed, and they come up a-whooping, thinking they had him kilt. And about that time six of 'em got bullets in 'em, and three drapped dead; for paw had clim up on the rock and was a-laying for 'em. Time the rest of the Lusks got up from their wounds, they allowed paw was a mean enough man to leave alone."
Nucky was silenced. The impressive pause that followed was at last broken by Philip. "What did he do to Serildy?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing, but shoot off a piece of her jaw and a little-grain of her scalp."
Philip meditated again. "I expect that's the reason Serildy left your paw, haint it? Women's so quare."
"Maybe," replied Joab, indifferently.
Oh, my perfect gentleman!
Thursday.
Shinny went out and ball came in yesterday. When at noon the boys all ran to me begging for yarn (of course store balls are an unknown luxury) and when later I saw Philip, Keats and Hosea ravelling out old socks they said they had bought from Geordie, Taulbee engaged upon a piece of the old comforter he had traded off for a pop-gun, and now bought back at a ruinous price, and heard Killis and Joab bemoaning the fact that they had traded mittens and socks off for pop-guns, and telling of the vast sums Geordie was making selling these and like remains to the "day-schools," I realized that even as far back as pop-gun time the forelooker was dealing in ball futures, and that his transactions then were not even as magnanimous as I had supposed them to be.
Saturday and Sunday are the longed-for days of Cousin Emmeline's funeral occasion, we are to start to-morrow (Friday) afternoon, and the "two homesicks" are beside themselves with joy.