“I’m mighty glad I come on down here,” said Luce, as she mounted from the rail fence. “I couldn’t er gone back without that chicken. Gran’pap Bozeman’s pow’rful bad.”
“I’ll be over that er way Sunday,” said Gabe in a low voice, as he handed up the firmly tied legs, “an’ll stop by ter see how the ole man comes on.”
“Ther’s preachin’” replied the girl, a little red coming into her cheek. And when mule and rider had vanished behind the thick wood he took down his gun called to the dog and followed slowly the way she had gone.
Sunday, betimes he had ridden away on the old gray mare.
“Yer pap mus’ be goin’ over ter Big Valley ergin,” said Mrs. Freeler to the girls. “Ther’s a preachin’ over thar onct a month this summer. But he never said nothin’ erbout it. Curious, too; he inginerally does leave some idee o’ whar he’s goin’.”
“I heern ’im tell Dick Weems he seen a mighty fine lookin’ girl over thar las’ meetin’-day,” said Bet.
“Mebbe pap’s courtin’ ergin,” commented Liz.
And when, four weeks from that day he again rode off without having let fall any hint of his destination, the suspicion was confirmed. Mrs. Freeler had come to know the signs; she grew restless and watched Gabe furtively every time he left the house, and when he came into it. His tall, lank form was less indoors than ever, and he grew more silent and moody, riding away oftener over the mountain. Always a shiftless fellow, he appeared more so now, except at times, when, in spurts of industry, he worked off his newly-awakened energy. But not so with Mrs. Freeler. The more her son idled, the faster her fingers flew. “I wuz allus a master han’ at patchin’,” she said, as she turned over and over the garments of them all.
As the haying season came on Gabe became possessed of an unusual fit of application. He had worked steadily for three days when something happened. Driving up with a load of hay piled rather higher than the old mare liked, she rebelled, and while she and he were having it out together the load was overturned. Liz and Bet, walking some distance behind, rushed forward, and Liz stooped to pick up her father’s coat, which, lying on top of the load, had been thrown to one side. As she did so she discovered a letter that had dropped out, and at the same moment his eye fell upon it.
“You Liz,” he cried, his voice trembling with excitement; “you leave my love letter alone!”