As Paul approached Warren's cabin the firelight from within shone through the open door out upon the bare ground in front. He paused for a moment, undecided as to how he should make his presence known—whether he should call out from where he stood, after the manner of mountain folk, or approach the threshold and rap. Just then a bulky, top-heavy looking object turned the corner of the cabin and advanced to the wood-pile near by. It was a man carrying a bunch of fagots on his shoulder. He threw it down, and, seeing Paul for the first time, he drew himself erect, staring through the darkness.
“Who goes thar?” he grunted.
Paul was about to reply when Warren suddenly grasped the handle of an ax, and swiftly swinging it to one side as if ready to strike a blow, he panted: “Oh, it's you—is it? Well, I've been expectin' you all day. I knowed you'd hear I'd come, an' not lose time..Well, I hain't got no gun—my fool women folks took—”
“I haven't either, Jeff,” Paul laughed, appeasingly. “You've got the best of it this time; I'm at your mercy, and I'm glad of it. Turn about is fair play, and if you want to you can brain me with that ax. I really think I deserve it, Jeff. I've had seven years to regret what I did, and I don't want to lose a minute to tell you that I am sorry—sorry as ever a man was in this world.”
Silence fell. Warren leaned on his ax-handle and stared with wide eyes and parted lips. When he finally spoke his breath hissed through his teeth.
“Say, young feller, if you've come here to poke fun at me I tell you now you've—”
“I'm in no mood for that, Jeff,” Paul broke in, with increased gentleness. “I've done you a great injury. I was a silly boy at the time and I've sorely repented. I've come to beg your pardon—to beg it as humbly as I know how.”
“Good God! You—you say—you mean—”
“I'm sorry, that's all, Jeff. I want to see my mother. You've got more right to her than I have now, after my conduct, but I want to see her and ask her to forgive me, too. A man has but one mother, Jeff, and the time comes to all men when they know what it means to lose one. Is she in the house?” There was an awkward pause. Warren stood swaying like a human tree touched in every branch, twig, and leaf by clashing winds which had never so met before.
“Why, I thought—we thought—folks all thought”—Warren dropped his ax, made a movement as if to regain it, then drew his lank body erect, and stood staring through the gloom.