“Yes, it’s there.”
“Then wait at the road.”
She went back into the cabin, caught up some garments, and threw them out of the window. Next she raked the fire out onto the floor, and, when again at the door, caught the kerosene-can from a shelf, with no tremor or haste, uncorked it, and threw it onto the scattered fire. A great yellow blaze went up, and she barely escaped in time. She stood a moment, and turned away laughing. “There won’t be much for that lawyer-man, I guess.” One of her starved hens, which had ventured into the cabin to forage, was hurled out by the blast, blind and scorched, and reeled about making strange noises. “Gosh, but that’s funny!” she cried, snatching the ax and following Joe.
At the fence she found Joe.
“What’s been a-doin’, Susie?”
“Shut up, and hurry, if you want to save your neck.”
“’T ain’t my neck.”
“What!” she cried. There was that in her voice which quieted the man, and they went as swiftly as a reeling head and hurt leg permitted down to the landing.
“Set down,” she cried, and pushed off the pirogue. “Can you paddle?”
“I can.”