"What in the name of common sense did Andy and Jeff leave they' mules here for? I can't haul any corn till I get the team and the waggon together." "Looks like you've hauled too many loads of corn that nobody knows the use of," broke out the irrepressible Nancy. "Andy and Jeff's in jail, and some fool has tuck my little Pone along with the others." Blatch flung a swift look at his uncle; but whatever his private conviction, to dishonour a member of his tribe in the face of the enemy, on the heels of defeat, was not what Jephthah Turrentine would do. "The boys is likely held for witnesses, Jude allows," the elder explained briefly. "You take one mule and I'll ride 'tother," he added. "I'll he'p ye with the corn." This was a great concession, and as such Blatchley accepted it. "All right," he returned. "Much obliged." Then he glanced unconcernedly at Judith, and, instead of making that haste toward the corn-hauling activities which his manner had suggested, moved loungingly up the steps. Beezy, from her sanctuary in Judith's lap, viewed him with contemptuous disfavour. Her brother, not so safely situated, made to pass the intruder, going wide like a shying colt. With a sudden movement Blatchley caught the child by the shoulders. There was a pantherlike quickness in the pounce that was somehow daunting from an individual of this man's size and impassivity. "Hold on thar, young feller," the newcomer remarked. "Whar you a-goin' to, all in sech haste?" "You turn me a-loose," panted the child. "I'm a-goin' over to my Jude." "Oh, she's yo' Jude, is she? Well they's some other folks around here thinks she's their Jude--what you goin' to do about it?" All this time he held the small, dignified atom of humanity in a merciless grip that made Little Buck ridiculous before his beloved, and fired his childish soul to a very ecstasy of helpless rage. "I'll--kill--you when I git to be a man!" the child gasped, between tears and terror. "I'll thest kill you--and I'll wed Jude. You turn me a-loose--that's what you do." Blatch laughed tauntingly and raised the little fellow high in air. "Ef I was to turn you a-loose now hit'd bust ye," he drawled. "I don't keer. I----" Around the corner of the cabin drifted Nicodemus, the wooden-legged rooster, stumping gravely with his dot-and-carry-one gait. "Lord, Nancy, thar comes the one patient ye ever cured!" chuckled old Jephthah. "I don't wonder yo're proud enough of him to roof him and affectionate him for the balance of his life." "I reckon you'd do the same, ef so be ye should ever cure one," snapped Nancy, rising instantly to the bait, and turning her back on the others. "As 't is, ef they hilt the buryin' from the house of the feller that killed the patient I reckon Jude wouldn't have nothin' to do but git up funeral dinners."