"Howdy, Marthy?" said Mrs. Dawson, behind Mrs. Bradley's back. "It was so still in the house, I 'lowed you wus all dead an' buried." Mrs. Bradley turned and dropped her paddle. "Why, ef it hain't Mis' Dawson, as I'm alive! Whar on earth are you bound fer?" "Jest come over fer a day ur so," was the reply. "I thought some o' stoppin' at the hotel, but, on second thought, I 'lowed you an' Luke mought think strange ef I did, so heer I am." "I've al'ays got room fer a old neighbor, an' you'd a-been lonely at the hotel. I'm glad you come, but--" Mrs. Bradley took up her paddle and began to stir the contents of the pot. "I reckon, I ortter tell you, plain, Mis' Dawson, that John Westerfelt is stayin' with us. We've got plenty o' room fer you both, but I thought it mought not be exactly agreeable fer you." A spiteful fire kindled in Mrs. Dawson's eyes. "It mought upset _him_ a little speck, Marthy, but I hain't done nothin' to be ashamed uv myse'f." Mrs. Bradley went to the ash-hopper and filled a dipper with lye and poured it into the pot. Then she wiped her hands on her apron. "John Westerfelt's had enough trouble to kill a ordinary man, Mis' Dawson," she said, "an' I'm his friend to the backbone; ef you've got any ill-will agin 'im, don't mention it to me. Besides, now would be a good time fer you to show Christian forbearance. He's been thoughtless, but heer lately he is a changed man, an' I believe he's tryin' his level best to do right in God's sight. He's had a peck o' trouble in one way or another over heer, but, in addition to that, I'm mistaken ef he don't suffer in secret day and night." "You don't say," cried Mrs. Dawson, eagerly. "I 'lowed he wus cuttin' a wide swath over heer." "Never was a bigger mistake. He don't visit a single gal in the place. He neglects his business, an' spends most o' his time in the woods pretendin' to hunt, but he seldom fetches back a thing, and you know he used to be the best shot at the beef matches. Luke thinks his mind is turned a little bit. Luke happened to go 'long the Shader Rock road t'other day an' seed John lyin' flat o' his back in the woods. He passed 'im twice inside of a hour, an' he hadn't moved a peg. No healthy minded man don't carry on that way, Mis' Dawson." "Hain't he a-settin' up to that hotel gal?" Mrs. Bradley turned towards the house with her guest. "No, he hain't," she answered. "She nussed him when he wus down, an'--well, maybe she does kinder fancy _him_ a little--any natcherl girl would--I don't say she _does_ nor _doesn't_, but he hain't been to see 'er, to my knowledge, a single time, nur has never tuk her out to any o' the parties. No, thar's nothin' twixt 'em; she tried to git 'im to come stay at the hotel when he wus sick atter the Whitecap outrage, an' I thought she acted a little for'ard then, but he refused an' come to us instead." "You don't say so; why, I heerd--"