suddenly and half-turned as if to run; but, at his
words, stood still.

"What is it, Judy?" he asked, going to her. "What is the matter?"

"There's a heap the matter!" she answered, regarding him with that sly
oblique look; while Brian noticed a feeling of intense excitement in her
voice. "I don't know what you-all are a-goin' ter think of me, but
I'm bound ter tell you just the same,--seems like I got ter,--even if
you-all was ter lick me for hit like pap used ter."

"Why, Judy, dear," the puzzled man returned, soothingly, "you know I
would never strike you, no matter what you did. Come, sit down here on
this log, and tell me about whatever it is that troubles you; then you
can go back to sleep again."

"I ain't a-wantin' ter set down. I ain't been asleep. Hit seems like
I can't never sleep no more." She wrung her hands and turned her poor
twisted body about nervously; then demanded with startling abruptness:
"When do you-all 'low she'll git back?"

The wondering Brian did not at first catch her meaning, and she
continued, with an impatient jerk of her head: "Hit's that there gal
with the no-'count name, Betty Jo, I'm a-talkin' 'bout."

"Oh, you mean Miss Williams," Brian returned. "Why, I suppose she
will be back in two or three weeks, or a month, perhaps; I don't know
exactly, Judy. Why?"

"'Cause I'm a-tellin' you-all not ter let her come back here ever," came
the startling answer, in a voice that was filled with menacing anger.
Then, before Brian could find a word to reply, the mountain girl
continued, with increasing excitement: "You-all dassn't let her come
back here, nohow, 'cause, if you do, I'll hurt her, sure. You-all
have been a-thinkin' as how I was plumb blind, I reckon; but I seen
you,--every evenin', when she'd pretend ter just go for a walk an'
then'd make straight for the clearin' where you was a-choppin', an' then
you'd quit, an' set with her up there on the hill. Youuns never knowed
I was a-watchin' from the bresh all the time, did you? Well, I was; an'
when youuns'd walk down ter the house, so slow like an' close together,
I'd sneak ahead, an' beat you home; but all the time I was a-seein' you,
an' youuns never knowed, 'cause youuns just naturally couldn't see nor
hear nothin' but each other. Don't you-all 'low as how I'd know by the
way you looked at her, while youuns was a-fixin' that there book, every
night, what you-all was a-thinkin' 'bout her? My God-A'mighty! hit was
just as plain ter