"I'll tell ye agin, young man, that yer Uncle Peter Judson's been through ther fires o' hell 'round this hyar mountain, an' he knows what he's talkin' 'bout. Afore mornin' ye'll see that cabin down yonder all aflames, lickin' ther very sky in an effort ter eat up ther stars."
"What, mine, do you mean?"
"Ther same, boy. Why, what makes yer look so durn funny? Hit's ther solid truth, God knows, Jack Wade, yer own cabin'll be ashes afore another sun rises over ther mountain. Ye have made a enemy out'n Al Thompson, an' nuthin' this side o' hell could stop him from a-killin' ye, ef ye don't git him fust. Ye needn't git upon yer high spirits an' think yer kin stop it, fer ye cain't. A fawty-hoss power gatlin'-gun woudn't stop them savages to-night, so jest be easy an' take it natural like, an' ye won't feel so bad when hit's all over. Me an' Tom'll go down with ye after awhile an' help ye put everything out in ther field, an' move ther stock ter a place o' safety, so's ter fool them fiends that much—"
"I won't submit to it," interrupted Wade angrily. "I'll kill the man who tries to burn my property."
"That's what ye kin do, Wade, but ye must wait till some other time. I'd ruther take that rifle thar an' blow yer brains out'n yer head whar ye stand than ter let ye go down thar an' git killed without any show 'tall. Don't up an' git mad now. Ye'll see that old Peter Judson knows what he's talkin' 'bout. I've been in this kintry too long fer to not know. Ye've made a enemy out o' Al Thompson, an' he's a chip off'n ther old block, only his Daddy is worse nur him. He's worse nur the old devil hisself, an' they won't rest till they're torn the earth up around ther mountain, an' dug a hole deep 'nough ter put a dozen good men in."
Old Peter paused again, while Wade looked down toward the earth with a troubled expression on his face.
"What's the matter with the law in this country?" asked Wade, although he knew that law and order were unknown to these people.
"Ther hain't any law," replied Peter. "Ther law tried ter git out here onct, an' I seed old Jim Thompson kill two officers. I seed it with my own eyes, an' Tom a-comin' yonder saw him shoot one down in his tracks. They want no more in town what'd tackle comin' after him, an' he's still hyar a-doin' business in ther same old way."
Jack Wade was considerably puzzled. Here was an old farmer, who he had calculated to shoot through the heart some day, now giving him advice which he thought would save his life—at least would save him much trouble. Here was a man who had just related to him that the Riders had at one time swooped down on him and destroyed his home and all else he had possessed save what he took out to the field; here was a man that rumor said was one of the very leaders of a band of lawless desperadoes who sought the lives of all good citizens of the community, now telling him of a man whose deeds were enough to turn the heart of a less brave man into a channel of terrible fear. This man was now trying to save his life, would himself rather put a bullet into his brain than see others do it or know that others had done so. That was friendship bordering on love. What kind of a man is he?
The mysteries of the hill deepen, the mysteries of the valley broaden. The closer he seems to have got to his desired end the further is he away from it. His plans seem crumbling to decay, his strong heart was bound in utter weakness. One glance from the firm, dark eyes of Nora Judson took all the manhood out of his soul. One touch of her finger tips made weak his stalwart frame. Now he must stand idle, in meek submission, while his sworn enemies burned his cabin and filled the air with their curses because they could not find the object of their vengeance and tear him to pieces bit by bit.