"If you keep your fingers out of the fire," said Morgan, looking at the ground, rolling a fallen apple with his toe, "you'll not get scorched. You stick to your knittin' and don't meddle with mine. That'll be about the healthiest thing you can do!" "If Isom knew what you've done he'd kill you--if he's even half a man," said Joe. "She was a good woman till you came, you hound!" "She's a good woman yet," said Morgan, with some feeling, "too good for that old hell-dog she's married to!" "Then let her stay good--at least as good as she is," advised Joe. "Oh, hell!" said Morgan disgustedly. "You can't have her," persisted Joe. "We'll see about that, too," said Morgan, his manner and voice threatening. "What're you goin' to do--pole off and tell the old man?" "I'll do what Isom left me here to do, the rest of the time he's away," said Joe. "Ollie shan't leave the house tonight." "Yes, you flat-bellied shad, you want her yourself--you're stuck on her yourself, you fool! Yes, and you've got just about as much show of gittin' her as I have of jumpin' over that tree!" derided Morgan. "No matter what I think of her, good or bad, she'd be safe with me," Joe told him, searching his face accusingly. "Yes, of course she would!" scoffed Morgan. "You're one of these saints that'll live all your life by a punkin and never poke it with your finger. Oh, yes, I know your kind!" "I'm not going to quarrel with you, Morgan, unless you make me," said Joe; "but you've got the wrong end of the stick. I don't want her, not the way you do, anyhow." Morgan looked at him closely, then put out his hand with a gesture of conciliation. "I'll take that back, Joe," said he. "You're not that kind of a kid. You mean well, but you don't understand. Look-a here, let me tell you, Joe: I love that little woman, kid, just as honest and true as any man could love her, and she thinks the world and all of me. I only want to take her away from here because I love her and want to make her happy. Don't you see it, kid?" "How would you do that? You couldn't marry her." "Not for a while, of course," admitted Morgan. "But the old possum he'd get a divorce in a little while." "Well, I'm not going to let her go," Joe declared, turning away as if that settled the matter for good and all. "You've done--I could kill you for what you've done!" said he, with sudden vehemence. Morgan looked at him curiously, his careless face softening. "Now, see here, don't you look at it that way, Joe," he argued. "I'm not so bad; neither is Ollie. You'll understand these matters better when you're older and know more about the way men feel. She wanted love, and I gave her love. She's been worked to rags and bones by that old devil; and what I've done, and what I want to do, is in kindness, Joe. I'll take her away from here and provide for her like she was a queen, I'll give her the love and comradeship of a young man and make her happy, Joe. Don't you see?"