o hint of my
suspicions reach him, but when he presented himself as a suitor for my
girl, and would demand my reasons for refusing him, and was altogether
high-headed and arrogant and impudent, I was carried away by
indignation, and hinted that I had knowledge of his intriguing
schemes."

"High-headed he may be," said Rogers, "an' who hez a bettah right, I'd
like to know? But arregent an' imperdent he ain't; an' not even you,
Hiram, shell call him so to my face, 'thout me denyin' it."

"Mark what I tell you, my friend," interrupted Gilcrest; "I could with
truth say even harder things of that young man. He has hoodwinked you
finely, but the time is not far distant when you yourself will say that
I am right."

"The time won't nevah come," said Rogers with homely dignity, "when I
shell hev cause to think anything but good uv that deah boy. He's eat
o' my bread an' sot et my h'arth fur three year come nex' October, an'
he's lak my own son."

"Ah! he's deceived you grandly," retorted Gilcrest with a sneer, losing
all patience. "I tell you he's a political schemer and traitor, and if
he ever dares show his face on my premises again, I'll have him
flogged."

"Yes, Hiram Gilcrest, I am deceived," Rogers answered slowly, but with
rising anger, "an' it's in you, not him. I've stood a heap frum you
lately. I've held my lip while you've been dissercratin' religion, an'
tryin' to turn ole Cane Redge chu'ch upside down, inside out, an' wrong
eend foremos'; but, blame yer hide! I won't stand ev'rything, an' I
draw the line et yo' abusin' Abner Dudley."

"Why, Mason, old friend----" began Gilcrest.

"Don' you 'Mason' an' 'ole friend' me, Hiram Gilcrest! I'm done with
you. Ef Abner hain't good 'nough to set foot on yo' place, you hain't
good 'nough to set foot on mine; an', by glory, ef you evah do, I'll
sick the dogs on you. You need hoss-whippin' to fetch you to yo'
senses. You've got so et up with proud flesh an' malice, kaze you can't
be high cock-o'-the-walk in Cane Redge chu'ch, thet you're gittin'
rabid ez a mad dog."

"Not even from you, Mason Rogers, will I stand such words," exclaimed
Gilcrest, furiously.

"Then, don't stand 'em!" retorted Rogers. "Set down on 'em, or lay on
'em, or roll ovah on 'em--jes' ez you please! I'm done with you," and,
without once looking back, he strode wrathfully out of the house.

He was in a towering rage as he rode homeward, but, before reaching his
own gate, he had cooled down suf