“Ye’re the cussedest purp in this hyar gorge!” the Panther exclaimed. “Ye sit thar an’ tell how well ye hev been treated hyar ter this hyar still-house, an’ then let on ez how ye think ye’ re too good ter come a-visitin’ hyar any more. Ye air like all the rest o’ these folks round hyar--ye take all ye wants, an’ then the fust breath of a word agin a body ye turns agin ’em too. Ye kin clar out’n this. Ye ain’t wanted hyar. I ain’t a-goin’ ter let none o’ yer church brethren nor thar fr’en’s nuther--fur ye ain’t even a perfessin’ member--come five mile a-nigh hyar arter this. We air a-goin’ ter turn ’em out’n the still-house, an’ that thar will hurt ’em worse’n turnin’ ’em out’n the church. They go an’ turn _us_ out’n the church fur runnin’ of a still, an’ before the Lord, we kin hardly drive ’em away from hyar along of we-uns. I’m a-goin’ ter git the skin o’ one o’ these hyar brethren an’ nail it ter the door like a mink’s skin ter a hen house, an’ I’ll see ef that can’t skeer ’em off. An’ ef ye don’t git out’n hyar mighty quick now, Mark Yates, like ez not the fust skin nailed ter the door will be that thar big, loose hide o’ yourn.” “I ain’t the man ter stay when I’m axed ter go,” said young Yates, rising, “an’ so I’ll light out right now. But what I war a-aimin’ ter tell ye, Painter, war ez how I hev sot too much store by ye and the t’other boys ter want ter see ye a-cuttin’ cur’ous shines ’bout the church-house an’ that leetle mite of a preacher an’ sech.” Once more that mental reservation touching “the strength of righteousness” recurred to him. Was the little preacher altogether a weakling? His courage was a stanch endowment. He had been warned of the gathering antagonisms a hundred times, and by friend as well as foe. But obstinately, resolutely, he kept on the path he had chosen to tread. “An’ I’ll let ye know ez I kin be frien’ly with a man ez fights bars an’ fightin’-men,” Mark resumed, “but I kin abide no man ez gits ter huntin’ down little scraps of preachers what hain’t got no call ter fight, nor no muscle nuther.” “Ye’ll go away ’thout that thar hide o’ yourn ef ye don’t put out mighty quick now,” said the Panther, his sinister green eyes ablaze and his supple body trembling with eagerness to leap upon his foe. “I ain’t afeard of ye, Painter,” said Mark, with his impenetrable calm, “but this hyar still-house air yourn, an’ I s’pose ez ye hev got a right ter say who air ter stay an’ who air ter go.”