YIN'," she repeated so searingly
that Dave looked at the ground suddenly, picked up a pebble confusedly
and shot it in the water.

"I had a mighty good reason," he said doggedly. "Ef he'd been up to some
of his furrin' tricks---" June stamped the ground.

"Don't you think I kin take keer o' myself?"

"No, I don't. I never seed a gal that could--with one o' them
furriners."

"Huh!" she said scornfully. "You seem to set a mighty big store by the
decency of yo' own kin." Dave was silent. "He ain't up to no tricks. An'
whut do you reckon Dad 'ud be doin' while you was pertecting me?"

"Air ye goin' away to school?" he asked suddenly. June hesitated.

"Well, seein' as hit's none o' yo' business--I am."

"Air ye goin' to marry him?"

"He ain't axed me." The boy's face turned red as a flame.

"Ye air honest with me, an' now I'm goin' to be honest with you. You
hain't never goin' to marry him."

[Illustration: You hain't never goin' to marry him.", 0242]

"Mebbe you think I'm goin' to marry YOU." A mist of rage swept before
the lad's eyes so that he could hardly see, but he repeated steadily:

"You hain't goin' to marry HIM." June looked at the boy long and
steadily, but his black eyes never wavered--she knew what he meant.

"An' he kept the Falins from killin' you," she said, quivering with
indignation at the shame of him, but Dave went on unheeding:

"You pore little fool! Do ye reckon as how he's EVER goin' to axe ye
to marry him? Whut's he sendin' you away fer? Because you hain't good
enough fer him! Whar's yo' pride? You hain't good enough fer him," he
repeated scathingly. June had grown calm now.

"I know it," she said quietly, "but I'm goin' to try to be."

Dave rose then in impotent fury and pointed one finger at her. His black
eyes gleamed like a demon's and his voice was hoarse with resolution and
rage, but it was Tolliver against Tolliver now, and June answered him
with contemptuous fearlessness.

"YOU HAIN'T NEVER GOIN' TO MARRY HIM."

"An' he kept the Falins from killin' ye."

"Yes," he retorted savagely at last, "an' I kept the Falins from killin'
HIM," and he stalked away, leaving June blanched and wondering.

It was true. Only an hour before, as Hale turned up the mountain that
very afternoon at the mouth of Lonesome Cove, young Dave had called to
him from the bushes and stepped into the road.

"You air goin' to court Monday?" he said.

"Yes," said Hale.

"Well, you better take anothe