to more trouble with the Turrentines. I tell ye this in pure good
will."

Chapter XIII

In the Night

In dark silence Judith made ready a late breakfast for the boys, leaving
her coffee-pot as of custom on its bed of coals in the ashes, hot bread
in the Dutch oven, and a platter of meat on the table. Jeff and Andy
straggled in and ate, helping themselves mutely, with sidelong glances at
her stormy face.

During the entire forenoon Wade was off the place, but the twins put in
their time at the pasture over the breaking of a colt to harness. Old
Jephthah was in his room with the door shut. Jim Cal, almost immediately
on Creed's departure, had retired to the shelter of his own four walls,
and, sick and trembling, taken to his bed, after his usual custom when
the skies of life darkened.

Dinner was got ready with the same fury of mechanical energy. During its
preparation Iley stole to the door and looked in. The only women on the
place, held outside the councils of the men, she longed to make some
unformulated appeal to Judith, to have at least such help and comfort as
might come from talking over the situation with her. But when the
desolate dark eyes looked full into hers, and uttered as plainly as words
the question that the sister dreaded, Jim Cal's wife turned and fled.

"She might as well 'a' said 'Huldy,'" whimpered the vixen, plucking at
her lip and hurrying back, head down, to her own cabin.

The day dragged its slow length. The sun in the doorway had crept to the
noon-mark, and away again. Flies buzzed. A cicada droned without. The old
hound padded in to lie down under the bed.

After dinner Jephthah went away somewhere, and the boys gathered in their
room, whence Judith could hear the clink and snap which advised her that
the guns were having a thorough overhauling, cleaning, and oiling. She
looked helplessly at the door. What could she do? Follow Creed as Huldah
had done? At the thought, all her bitterness surged back upon her. What
had she been able to accomplish when she stood face to face alone with
him on the woods-path? Nothing. She turned and addressed herself once
more savagely to her tasks. That was what women were for--women and
mules. Men had the say-so in this world. She--she the owner of this
house, its real mistress--was to cook three meals a day for the men
folks, and see nothing and say nothing.

Supper was the only meal at which the entire family gathered that day. It
was eaten