Her short, sudden scream rang out shrilly in the dull silence of the gray afternoon. She sprang to her feet. “Who hev tole that—who hev tole that on him? I’ll be bound them sly foxes at the Settlemint air plottin’ su’thin agin him. They won’t gin him time ter git well, an’ they don’t want ter let him be constable, what he hev done been ’lected ter be. Who hev tole it? Who hev tole it?” Her eyes flashed an insistent inquiry at him and he could only reply doubtfully,— “I dunno, Marcelly. I jes’ hearn a whole pack of ’em at the store”—she winced visibly at the idea of this wide dissemination of the rumor—“a-talkin’ bout’n it. But I dunno who set it a-goin’ fust.” “I do!” she exclaimed frantically. “That stranger—he ’peared tickled ter death whenst he fust noticed it. Never seen a man so streck by nuthin’ in yer life. Tuk an’ felt his pulse, sir, an’ ’peared like he’d ruther hear sech foolishness talked ’n the sober wisdom o’ Sol’mon! I war mad then—but what though bein’ called a n’angel”—She broke off suddenly. “’Twar him—’twar him—kase nobody else knowed it. Dad hain’t seen nobody else ’ceptin’ him an’ Andy Longwood one day,—but Andy hain’t got larnin’ enough ter feel folkses pulses an’ sense thar shortcomin’s an’ sech. ’Twar him! ’Twar him! Oh, ye air all alike. I never see nobody ez I take a notion air mighty good an’ fine, an’ I go round like a fool studyin’ ’bout ’em all day, but what—ef I know ’em long enough—I find out they air jes’ plain common men-folks sech ez hev been sence the worl’ began,—jes’ like Adam, rather guzzle a apple ’n bide in Paradise.” She smiled reflectively, a scornful retrospection, as if the thought of some past folly were both bitter and ludicrous. “Waal,” she resumed, turning upon him, “what war they ’lowin’ at the store they war goin’ ter do ’bout’n it?” He shifted his weight to the other foot, then leaned heavily on his gun. “I hate ter tell ye, Marcelly,” he said with a low-spirited cadence. “I hoped ’twarn’t true.” “I mus’ know,” she asserted insistently. “Waal,” he reluctantly began, “they ’lowed ez some o’ them ‘smart Alecks’ of politicians an’ sech hed gin information ez thar war a crazy in the county ez oughter be restrained o’ his liberty.” A short exclamation, little less than a scream, came from her with an accent as if it were wrung forth by physical pain. “Ef the county court app’ints the sher’ff ter summons a jury fur a inquisition o’ lunacy, an’ they see Eli an’ ’low he air insane, they think they kin git up perceedin’s ez will take away his office.” She listened silently as she stood holding the empty gourd in her hand. He felt as if he were pronouncing a sentence of some terrible doom, in thus destroying her pride. She esteemed the humble office so high and noble an estate, its shattered incumbent the chief of men!