"Well, they come up from the level country—the Blue Grass. You ricollect me telling you how I passed through hit on my way to Frankfort—as smooth, pretty country as ever was made; though, being level, hit looked lonesome to me. And from what they have said, I allow Uncle Ephraim Kent fotched 'em up here, some way or 'nother, I don't rightly know how. And they put up at our house till me 'n' the boys could lay floors and set up their tents."
The saddlebags were full now, and they turned back.
"Stay and set with me a while," she begged him.
"Couldn't noways think of hit," he said; "might miss my sewing-lesson."
"Sewing-lesson!" she exclaimed.
"Hadn't you heared about me becoming a man of peace, setting down sewing handkerchers and sech every morning?" he laughed.
"Now I know you are lying to me," she said, in an injured tone.
"Nary grain," he protested. "Come get up behind and go in along and see if I hain't speaking the pure truth!"
"I would, too, if there was anybody to stay with the place and the property," she replied, "'Pears like your grandpaw will set on that grand jury tell doomsday! How many indictments have they drawed up again' you this time, Fulty?" she asked, anxiously.
Fult threw back his handsome dark head, and laughed again as he sprang into the saddle. "Not more 'n 'leven or twelve!" he said. "They're about wound up, now, I allow, and grandpaw will likely be in by sundown. You ride in to-morrow to see them women!"