"W--e--ll, mos' ever'body knows you couldn't kerry out yer boast, no matter ef you meant it er not. But, you c'n see fer yerself 'at your workin' over on her place ain't jest the thing, with all the talk 'at went on a couple year ago. Like's not ever'thing's all proper an' they ain't no real harm in it, but----" "Look here, Martin Grimes, do you mean to insinyate that it ain't proper? 'Cause ef you do, somethin's goin' to drap an' drap all-fired hard," exclaimed 'Gene, his brow darkening. "Don't be so techy, 'Gene. I ain't insinyated a blame thing; cain't you see I'm tryin' to lay the hull case afore you clearly? 'Tain't no use beatin' roun' the bush, nuther. She's boun' to be compermised." Crawley stared long and silently at a herd of cattle on the distant hillside. "Martin," he said, at last, "that girl's made a different man of me. I ain't the same ornery cuss I wuz a couple of year ago. Anybody c'n see that. I ain't teched a mouthful of whisky fer purty nigh a year. Seems to me I don't keer a damn to swear--I mean I don't keer to swear any more. That one slipped out jest because talkin' to you like this kind o' takes me back to where I used to be. I go to church purty reg'lar, don't I? Well, it's all her. She's made a different man of me, I tell you, an' I wouldn't do her no wrong if the hull world depended on it. She's the best woman that ever lived, that's what she is. An' she keers more fer Jud Sherrod's little finger than fer all the balance of the world put together. There ain't no honester girl in Clay township, an' darn me, if ever I hear anybody say anything mean ag'in her, I'll break his neck. I'm helpin' her over on the place, an' she's payin' me wages, jest like she'd pay any hand, an' I don't know whose business it is but her'n an' mine." "I know all that, 'Gene, but people don't----" "Who in thunder is the people? A lot of old women who belong to church, an' go to sociables jest to run one 'nother down, an' all the time there ain't one-tenth of 'em that ain't jealous of the women they think's goin' wrong. They're so derned selfish an' evil-minded that they cain't even imagine another woman doin' somethin' that ain't right without feelin' jealous as blazes an' gittin' dissatisfied with ever'thing around 'em. You cain't tell me nothin' about these old scarecrows that keep a sign hangin' out all the time--'virtue is its own reward.' Say, Martin, you don't suppose that I'm the only hired hand workin' around these parts, do you?" snarled 'Gene, malevolently. "No, course not, but--what you mean, 'Gene?" "I'm not the only man that's workin' on a farm where there's a woman, am I?" grated 'Gene. "Lookee here, 'Gene, 'splain yerself. That don't sound very well," exclaimed Martin, turning a shade paler and glancing uneasily toward his own house.