Joel Fulkerson responded soberly though without reproof: "Yore man Lincoln could go right on when things was turrible black. When his own ends failed he still went on--fer others. He didn't give way ter hate. He could go on tell he give his life hitself--fer dreams of betterin' things thet needed betterment, an' he come from ther same blood as us." "Wharfore in God's name does ye stand thar preachin' at me?" The young man's reaction from stunned torpor to passion had brought with it something like the fever of madness. "Ye knows I holds with ye es ter schools--an' all fashion of betterment--but what's them things ter me now? What I wants in this hour is ter visit on ther man thet's ruint my life ther direst punishment thet kin be meted out--an' he's cheatin' me by a-dyin'. Listen--" He broke off and bent his head toward the wall of Blossom's room and his voice took on a queer, almost maniacal note. "Kain't ye heer her--in thar--groanin' out her heart! Let me git outen hyar.... I kain't endure hit.... I'm liable ter do even _you_ an injury ef I stays--albeit I loves ye!" "I hates thet man in thar, too, Turner." The preacher laid a restraining hand on his companion's taut arm and sought to soothe the frenzy of wrath with the cool steadiness of his tone. "I've had need ter pray fer strength against thet hate--but I've heered ther Stacy rallyin' cry ter-night an' we've got ter hev speech." "Speech hain't ergoin' ter mollify me. What I wants is ter hev ther things I've suffered this night paid fer. Hit's all _got_ ter be paid fer!" The inheritor of feudal instincts wheeled and burst from the room, the preacher following more slowly but still determined. Outside Turner halted. The ordeal through which he had passed had left him shaken in a frenzy of passion, and he stood looking about him with the gaze of a wild beast fretting under the feral urge of blood-lust. With a clan easily inflamed and gathering to his call, Brother Fulkerson realized the danger of that mood. Its menace must be met and stemmed before it ran to a flood-tide of homicidal violence. The preacher came close and spoke quietly. "I don't know yit what tuck place ter night--over yon," he said. "I only knows I've heered acrost ther hills a sound I'd prayed I mout never hear ergin--ther cry of ther Stacys rallyin' fer battle. Ye've got power, son--power beyond ther common. What air ye goin' ter do with hit? Air ye a-goin' ter fergit yore dreams, because ther future's black afore ye? Or air ye goin' ter be big enough, since ye're denied children of yore own, ter make them dreams come true fer ther benefit of other men's children?" Bear Cat Stacy's voice as he answered was gratingly hard and his eyes were unyielding. "I don't know yit," he savagely announced. "I don't know yit fer sure whose a-goin' ter need punishment, but I've called on my kinsmen ter gather--an' when I knows the truth we'll be ready to deal hit out full measure."