"I don't b'lieve he air a comin', no sich a thing. I dremp he wer' married, an' thet's a sign o' death. How d'ye know he air a comin'?" She spoke almost pettishly, looking fixedly at her father, whose pale eyes wandered aimlessly from object to object. "I seed Mr. Noble, thet banker down ther': he hev come back. He said ter me, says he, 'The Colonel, he an' Mr. Moreting air comin' nex' week,' thet's what he says ter me." Milly let her eyes fall and began digging in the ground with the toe of one of her shoes. "Thet young lady, thet Miss Noble down ther', hes she kem back?" she presently asked. "La, yes, she hev," quickly replied White. "Bless yer life, yes, she kem with 'er pap. Oh, yes, she kem too, she did." "What meks John stay so long?" "Oh, him? w'y he's a havin' a stavin' ole time er shootin' quails an' a drinkin' er fine liquor an' er smokin' good seegairs. Don't yer go to blamin' him fer stayin' awhile down ther': hit air a good place ter be at, yer better think." "Seems like he mought never come," she murmured, and there were tears in her eyes as she started to go and fetch the ox. White went into the house and shut the door. "I hev a bad secret to tell ye," he said to his wife, "an' I don't wan't yer ter let Milly know airy breath about it, nuther." "Well, less yer what it air." "Ye won't tell Milly?" "Nairy word." "Sarting an' sure?" "Yes." "Well, the Colonel he air shot." "Shot?" "He air." "Shot?" "He air, sarting." "Goodness! an' who tole ye?" "Thet banker, down ther' at town, Mr. Noble, he tole me. Hit wer' a feller 'at broke jail 'at done hit, a outdacious murderer, down yer at some other town, 'at wer a goin' ter be hung, an' some friend of his'n helped 'im ter break jail an' give 'im a pistol, an' he put out through the country. Hit seems, f'om what thet banker down yer says, 'at the Colonel were a galivantin' off to some lonesome ole house wi' a widder 'oman, 'an thet feller he wer in ther an' jes' shot 'im down." "Goodness alive! Hit didn't kill 'im? The Colonel he hain't dead?" "No, not dead, but he air bad off. He air laid up in bed. He hev got a hole through 'im." Mrs. White began filling her pipe with great energy, her husband following her example. There was a space of silence, then he said: "We hev got ter lie ter Milly fer all that's out. Hit'll never do fer her ter know it 'at the Colonel's hurt. She'd go 'stracted." "She mought jest as well. Hit air no use er foolin', he's not goin' ter hev 'er." "Hev her! Hev _her_! w'at upon the airth are ye talkin' 'bout?" "She loves 'im." "Milly? _She_ love? _She_ love _him_?" "Ye-es, she-e lo-ove hi-im!" drawled Mrs. White in a high key, wagging her head with each word. White looked at her in utter consternation. "Thet leetle silly gal love _him_? W'y she air no more'n a tom-tit er a hominy-bird ter be a lovin' the Colonel. Shorely she hain't gone an' been no sich a dang fool es thet!" "She hev." "How d'ye know?"