"Mark what I tell you, my friend," interrupted Gilcrest; "I could with truth say even harder things of that young man. He has hoodwinked you finely, but the time is not far distant when you yourself will say that I am right."
"The time won't nevah come," said Rogers with homely dignity, "when I shell hev cause to think anything but good uv that deah boy. He's eat o' my bread an' sot et my h'arth fur three year come nex' October, an' he's lak my own son."
"Ah! he's deceived you grandly," retorted Gilcrest with a sneer, losing all patience. "I tell you he's a political schemer and traitor, and if he ever dares show his face on my premises again, I'll have him flogged."
"Yes, Hiram Gilcrest, I am deceived," Rogers answered slowly, but with rising anger, "an' it's in you, not him. I've stood a heap frum you lately. I've held my lip while you've been dissercratin' religion, an' tryin' to turn ole Cane Redge chu'ch upside down, inside out, an' wrong eend foremos'; but, blame yer hide! I won't stand ev'rything, an' I draw the line et yo' abusin' Abner Dudley."
"Why, Mason, old friend——" began Gilcrest.
"Don' you 'Mason' an' 'ole friend' me, Hiram Gilcrest! I'm done with you. Ef Abner hain't good 'nough to set foot on yo' place, you hain't good 'nough to set foot on mine; an', by glory, ef you evah do, I'll sick the dogs on you. You need hoss-whippin' to fetch you to yo' senses. You've got so et up with proud flesh an' malice, kaze you can't be high cock-o'-the-walk in Cane Redge chu'ch, thet you're gittin' rabid ez a mad dog."
"Not even from you, Mason Rogers, will I stand such words," exclaimed Gilcrest, furiously.
"Then, don't stand 'em!" retorted Rogers. "Set down on 'em, or lay on 'em, or roll ovah on 'em—jes' ez you please! I'm done with you," and, without once looking back, he strode wrathfully out of the house.
He was in a towering rage as he rode homeward, but, before reaching his own gate, he had cooled down sufficiently to plan what he should and should not say at home about his visit to Oaklands.
"'Twon't do to tell Abner whut thet ole sea skunk hinted 'bout plots an' treasons. Hiram'd be tortured by Injuns befoh he'd tell out plain whut he'd promised to keep secret; an' ef Abner knowed he'd hinted et sich damnation things ag'in him, he'd t'ar up the airth to mek him tell; fur Ab in his own way's ez stubbo'n an' sot ez the ole Scratch hisse'f. With the two uv 'em to manidge, I'm betwixt tommyhock an' buzzard, so to speak, an' I won't hev a minit's peace tell I wollop 'em both, an' mek 'em behave therse'ves. So I reckon I'll hafto talk in kindah gen'ral terms, or in par'bles, ez Brothah Stone would say, when Abner axes me 'bout my intahview with Hiram."