They got through the meal, however, after a great length of time had elapsed, for they conversed about every thing, crops especially and folks in the city in general. Tom was off toward the village purchasing supplies and would not return, likely, until late in the afternoon, so Wade must content himself with listening to Peter Judson for at least a half-day. This he did, and he listened with growing interest. The old man knew of things that had happened away back yonder 'afore the war, and he knew about things that would happen at some future date. He had lived through one generation of feuds and thought "thar mout be tough times ahead fer some folks as he know'd of now, an' they hain't fer away, nuther," he said meaningly. "Why, jest let me tell you somethin', Wade," said old Peter, bending over and shaking his finger at the latter. "Way back yonder somewhar in the eighteens we had some mouty lot of trouble, that we did. Them was ther days when ther white caps or somethin' done things, and I hain't fergot it nuther, an' what's more, I hain't never a-goin ter fergit. I hain't that sort--ther fergit'n kind. An' ye'll find that out 'afore ye air hyar in this kintry much longer. Ef a man treats Peter Judson all right, he's a-goin' ter git treated all right back again. Ef he treats me mean, why, he's gotter look out fer his head, that's all. I kin remember onct away back yonder--I was on t'other side then--an' was as peaceful a man as lived, when I was a plowin' in my field an' up comes a feller as fast as he could ride a hoss, an' says, sayse: 'Peter Judson, yer gotter git out o' this kintry, an' that putty quick. Ef yer don't, yer neck'll be stretched.' 'Well, I won't,' says I, 'not till I git good'n ready, an' ef you ner anybody else thinks as how they kin make me git out afore I want to, let's see ther color o' his hair. An' I takes ther lines from my shoulders an' drops 'em down over ther plow handle an' squares myself, thinkin' maybe he'd want some of it right then an' thar. But no, what'd he do? He up an' put spurs to his hoss an' digs out down ther road lip-i-ty-clip, an' I seed nuthin' o' him no more." The old man paused to let out a great stream of tobacco juice. Wade threw his left leg over his right knee by way of change, and asked, "Was there any special reason, Mr. Judson, that this man should have requested you to leave the country?" "None. None 'tall, but I left." "Oh, you did?"