Perhaps he
had been more or less prepared for it, knowing as he would have phrased
it that his uncle wanted but half a chance to break with him. He was
aware, too, that the secret of his illicit traffic was safe in the old
man's hands, and that indeed Jephthah would strain a point to defend him
for the name's sake if for nothing else.

"All right," he said, "ef them's yo' ruthers, hit suits me. What do
you-all boys say?--I reckon Unc' Jep'll let ye speak for yo'selves--this
one time."

"I say what pap says," came promptly from Wade. And, "Jeff an' me thinks
it's about time pap's word went with his boys," put in the younger and
more emotional Andy.

"All right, all right," agreed Blatch in some haste, finding the battle
to go thus sweepingly against him. "I wont expect no opinions from you,
podner, tell you've had time to run home an' ax Iley what air they. Ye
ain't named Judith, Unc' Jep," he went on, glancing to where the girl
knelt on the hearthstone dishing up corn pones from the Dutch oven.
"Cain't she come over and visit me when she has a mind?"

"Judith's her own mistress. She can use her ruthers," returned Jephthah
briefly, "but I misdoubt that you'll be greatly troubled with her
company."

"Help me git my things out of the cupboard thar, Jude, won't ye?" asked
Blatch civilly enough.

Without reply, without glancing at him, Judith preceded him into the
fore-room, opened the doors and sought out his clean clothing, making it
into a neat pile on the table.

"You come over and see me sometimes, won't ye, Judy?" whispered the tall
man as he bundled these up. "I won't tell who I seen you with."

Judith looked at him with wordless contempt. Her own pain was so great
that even anger was swallowed up in it.

"Tell anybody you're a mind to," she said listlessly. "I ain't
a-carin'."

"I may git word of him, Jude," persisted Blatch as he was departing. "Ef
I do would you wish to hear it? Ef you say yes, I'll send ye notice."

Again she glanced at him with that negligent disdain. What could he do to
her now who had lost all? She was beyond the reach of his love or his
malice.

Chapter XX

A Conversion

And now Judith's days strung themselves on the glowing thread of
midsummer weather like black beads on a golden cord, a rosary of pain.
She told each bead with sighs, facing the morning with a heavy heart that
longed for darkness, lying down when day was over in dread of the night
and a weariness t