"Reckon I hain't no later git'n' hit done than ye are a git'n' home, seein' as how I'm most done now," she replied.
"Milkin' a cow hain't nuthin' like takin' a day fer to ride over the country a givin' warnin's."
"What ye warnin' 'bout now, Tom?" she asked, with much interest.
"Go 'long, gal. Ye ain't been raised in this country fer nothin'! Ye know what I've been warnin' 'bout well 'nough, 'thout axin' me. They's a-goin' ter be hell raised in this country to-night. That's what I've been warnin' 'bout. Now do ye know, durn ye!"
"I reckon I do. Who's a-goin' ter git it this time?"
"Aw, ye want to know too much all to once. Jest wait 'til ye see ther blaze 'long erbout midnight, an' ye'll know all ye want to know."
"I mout be asleep then." Nora spoke feelingly. She desired to know more, but hesitated to ask direct questions.
"Yes," said Tom, "I reckon ye will be asleep when ye think somethin's a-goin' to be a-doin'. Them durn big black eyes of yourn'll see everything in the whole blame valley afore mornin'. Ye kin see plum through ther mountain when ye want to, an' they'll be a plenty fer you ter see to-night, an' ther newcomer——!" Tom stopped suddenly and Nora looked hastily up, inquiringly, hoping to hear him finish the sentence, but he spoke never another word.
"What's hit about ther newcomer, Tom?" she asked after a moment's hesitation.
"Nuthin'. What'd ye keer if hit was anything about him?"