Unaware that they were being followed, the two swampers crossed a plowed field, frequently shifting their heavy burden.
Coming at length to the Hawkins’ farm, they vanished into the woodshed.
“Guess you were right, Penny,” Salt acknowledged, pausing by the fence. “Evidently they’re the Hawkins’ boys.”
The door of the house had opened and a light now glowed in the window. A bulky figure stood silhouetted on the threshold.
“Who’s there?” the man called sharply. “That you, Coon?”
From inside the shed came a muffled reply: “Yep, it’s me and Hod.”
“How’d you make out, son?”
“She’s all took care of an’ on ’er way to Hartwell City. Ike says he’ll fetch you the cash in a day or two.”
“Git to bed soon’s you kin,” the older man said, apparently pleased by the information. “Your Ma’s tired and wants to git to sleep ’for mawning.”
He moved back into the house, closing the door.