“I’m glad to git to see yo’,” he said, feebly. “If I’d knowed yo’, I shore would have minded my own business. I’m bad, Missy Carline, but I ain’ mean—not much. Leastwise, not about women. I reckon the boys shore will let yo’ be now. I made a mistake, an’ I ’low to ’pologise to yo’.”
“I was—I was scairt to death,” she cried, sitting in a chair. “I was all alone. I was afraid—the river was so big that night. I was so far away. I should have given you fair warning. I’m sorry, too, Jest.”
“Lawse!” Prebol choked. “Say hit thataway ag’in––”
“I cayn’t thank yo’ all enough,” the man-whispered. “I’ve got friends along down the riveh. I’ll send word along to them, they’ll shore treat yo’ nice. Treat friends of yourn nice, too. Huh! ’Pologizin’ to me afteh what I ’lowed to do!”
“We’ll be good friends, Jest. The Prophet here and I are good friends, too. Aren’t we, Parson?”
“I hearn say, Missy,” the Prophet said, slowly, picking his words, “I hearn say you’ve a power and a heap of book learning! Books on yo’ boat, all kinds. What favoured yo’ thataway?”
“Oh, I read lots!” she exclaimed, surprised by the sudden shift of thought. “Somehow, I’ve read lots!”
“In my house I had a Bible, an almanac, and the ‘Resources of Tennessee,’ Yo’ have that many books?”
“Why, I’ve a hundred—more than a hundred books!” she answered.