"What diffunce do that make?" Laz drawled. "The sun rises an' sets jest like thar wan't no watches nur clocks. Wouldn't make no diffunce to me ef thar wan't none. Shore ter git a feller inter trouble ef he pays much attention to 'em. The only way for a man to live is jest to let time take care of itse'f. It always did and I reckon it always will." He went over to the table, took up the bag and looking at it as if studying a problem, remarked to Jasper: "I'd like to borry this meal bag ag'in ef you ain't got no particular use for it." "All right, Laz, but I mout need it by year after next." "Ah, hah. Wall, I'll try to have it back by then." He started off slowly toward the door, halted and looked about. "Don't see nuthin' else you want to borry, do you, Laz?" "Nuthin' I can use. Good-day." Margaret stood near the window, meditating. "Now, let me see." "Want to know whar we was when he broke in?" Jasper asked, and she gave him a pathetic look. "I wan't a thinkin' about that." "Glad to hear it. Look here, it's a gittin' so a man can't set down and quarrel with his wife in peace. We air gittin' too crowded in this neighborhood. Man moved in five miles from here day befo' yistidy." "Then let's don't quarrel," said Margaret, holding out her hands. He put his arms about her. "No, we won't. An' don't be jealous of that po' little grave." "No, Jasper, for she was the mother of soldiers." Lije Peters came in, clearing his throat. Starbuck looked round at him and said: "An' Satan come also." "Starbuck," Peters began, "I want to see you a minit, by yo'se'f." "I don't know that I've got anythin' to say to you, Lije, but that door thar allus stands open, and I ain't in the habit of orderin' folks out of my house. Margaret, will you please go in thar?" he added, motioning with his head. "But you won't have no trouble, will you, Jasper?" "Trouble mostly comes to them that looks for it. I ain't lookin'." Margaret went to the door, halted, looked back and then passed into the adjoining room. Starbuck sat on a corner of the table. Peters stood looking at him. Peters was much the larger man, and lifting at a handspike, in the clearing at a log-rolling, would have been stronger; but the bully, the half-coward, in combat, is rarely as strong as the brave man. The blood of courage case-hardens a muscle. They looked at each other, these two men whose relationship, never agreeable, was nearing a crisis. Starbuck's voice was never softer than when he said: "Won't you sit down, Lije?" "Hardly wuth while. Did the folks tell you that I was over here earlier in the day?" "Nobody said anythin' about it, Lije. Couldn't have been very important--what you said to 'em on that occasion." Peters cleared his rasp-like throat. "Mo' important than some folks mout think." "Some folks don't think," Starbuck replied. "And then ag'in," said Peters, "thar air others that does."