"I give a jug unthoughted to Bob Ainslee for going an arrand, never thinking of him and t'other young boys getting drunk on hit."
"Oh, why do you do these things which distress us so, and which are directly against the law?" implored Amy.
"Laws hain't nothing to me if they're onjust," he declared, defiantly. "I don't think hit's wrong to use the corn I have raised in stilling liquor, or I wouldn't do hit. But," in a changed and troubled voice, "I wouldn't have had you women see this still for a thousand dollars."
"Why?"
"Oh, because you look at things different from me. You have got strange notions. You don't understand our ways up here."
He cast a desperate, searching glance into Isabel's face, as if in the wild hope of finding some understanding and sympathy there. But her eyes were dropped; her body was drooping somewhat wearily.
There seemed nothing more to be said on either side. The women turned slowly away and began their homeward walk.
"Won't—won't you let me—or Charlie—see you safe home?" Fult asked, in a choked voice.
"No, we feel safer alone, thank you," replied Virginia.
And they walked on, leaving Fult standing like a statue in the moonlight.