“Cayn’t tell; maybe to-morrow an’ perhaps not before nex’ week; but it’s boun’ to come. Dog my cats, if I’m sorry. I fairly itch to git my hands on the onery cusses that killed the parson.”
“Anything is better than waiting; it takes the life out of a man. I shall not feel safe until I get my feet on British soil once more. God being my helper, Maybee, I’ll never set foot on the soil of the ‘greatest (?) Republic on earth’ again,” he finished earnestly.
Mr. Maybee chuckled.
“Con-vinced are you? They used ter tell me when I was a little shaver that the proof of the puddin’ was in swallerin’ the bag—that is, pervidin’ it was a biled puddin’. I’ll ’low them varmints heat you pretty hot, but there’s nothin’ so convincin’ as ex-perience. I might a talked to you fer forty days an’ nights, wastin’ my breath fer nothin’, an’ you’d a said to yourself ‘Maybee’s stretchin’ it; ’taint quarter so bad as he makes out;’ but jest as soon as they git to work on your anatermy yer fin’ out that Maybee was mild by comparison. The South’s a horned hornet on the ‘nigger’ question. Time n’r tide, n’r God A’mighty aint goin’ to change ’em this week.”
“Well, I’m ready for them; I’m feeling decidedly fit,” replied Maxwell.
“Good. Reynolds left you a message, a sort of warning. Thomson says the nex’ time he gits you he’ll fix you, law or no law; he’s goin’ to flog you first like a nigger, an’ then burn you an’ send your ashes to your folks in England in a chiny vase. How’s that strike you?”
“He will if he’s lucky; but I have my doubts.”
Maybee gazed at him in silent admiration a moment before he said: “British grit a plenty in you, by thunder; that’s the talk.”
Preparations immediately went forward in the camp for meeting the enemy. Winona’s cave on the mountainside was to be stored with provision, ammunition and all other necessaries. The men worked all night in detachments, watch and watch.
Warren had seen very little of Winona; she kept with the women.