"I feel the blood of youth mounting from the feet of the past to the head of the present," Gid broke in. "I can jump a ten rail fence, staked and ridered."
"And I'm pretty jumpy myself," the Major declared. "But what were you going to say, Perdue?"
"I was goin' to say that I always make it a rule never to repeat anything that my children say, for I have often had fellers bore me with the smart sayin's of their children—and I know that most every man thinks that his children are the brightest in the country and all that—but the other night as my wife was gettin' Ab ready for bed he looked up——"
"We never had any children at our house," said Wash Sanders, scratching his chin with his polished finger-nail, "but I jest as good as raised one nephew. You remember Dan, don't you, Major?"
"Mighty well. Went to Texas, didn't he?"
"Yes, and got to cowboyin' around and was killed."
"I recall that he was a very bright young man," said the Major. "But what were you going to say, Perdue?"
"I was goin' to say that I always make it a rule never to tell anything that my children say, knowin' how it seems to pester folks, for I have been nearly bored to death by fellers breakin' in and tellin' what they of course thought was a powerful smart thing, said by one of their children—so I am mighty keerful about such things, makin' it a rule never to repeat anything said by my children, but the other night as my wife was gettin' Ab ready for bed——"
"Somebody's hollering helloa at the gate," said Jim. "Hush a minute. There it is again."
The Major went out and presently returned, bringing with him a large blue envelope. "It's from the county clerk," he said, sitting down and breaking the seal. "Brought by a deputy sheriff, and he said that he had ridden hard all the way and was in a great hurry to get back. Let's see what old Billy has to say." And now having put on his spectacles, he read aloud the following: