n the others.
"As 't is, ef they hilt the buryin' from the house of the feller that
killed the patient I reckon Jude wouldn't have nothin' to do but git up
funeral dinners."

Little Buck, despairing of granny's interference, began to cry. At the
sound Judith came suddenly out of a revery to spring up and catch him
away from the hateful restraining hands.

"I don't know what the Lord's a-thinkin' about to let sech men as you
live, Blatch Turrentine!" she said almost mechanically. "Ef I was
a-tendin' to matters I'd 'a' had you dead long ago. Ef you're good for
anything on this earth I don't know what it is."

"Oh, yes you do," Blatchley returned as the old man started down the
steps. "I'd make the best husband for you of any feller in the two Turkey
Tracks--and you'll find it out one of these days."

The girl answered only with a contemptuous glance.

"Come again--when you ain't got so long to stay," Nancy sped them sourly.
"Jude, you'd better set awhile and get your skirts dry." She looked after
Blatch as he moved up the road, then at little Buck, so ashamed of his
trembling lip. Her face darkened angrily. She turned slowly to Judith.

"What you gwine to do with that feller, Jude?" she queried
significantly.

"Do? Why, nothin'. He ain't nothin' to me," responded the girl
indifferently.

"He ain't, hey? Well, he's bound to marry ye, honey," said the older
woman.

"Huh, he ain't the first--and won't be the last, I reckon," assented
Judith easily.

"Ye'd better watch out fer that man, Jude," persisted Nancy, after a
moment's silence. "He'll git ye, yet. I know his kind. He ain't a-keerin'
fer yo' ruthers--whether you want him or no. He jest aims to have
_you_."

"Well, I reckon he'll about have to aim over agin," observed the unmoved
Judith.

"An' Elder Drane? Air ye gwine to take him?--I know he's done axed ye,"
pursued Nancy hesitantly.

"'Bout 'leven times," agreed Judith with perfect seriousness. "No--I
wouldn't have the man, not ef he's made of pure gold." She added with a
sudden little smile and a catch of the breath: "Them's awful nice chaps
o' his; I'd most take him to git them. The baby now--hit's the sweetest
thing!" And she tumbled Beezy tumultuously in her lap, then suddenly
inquired, apparently without any volition of her own, "Aunt Nancy, did
you know Creed Bonbright's folks?"

"Good Lord, yes!" returned old Nancy. "But come on inside and set, Jude.
This sun ain't a-goin' to dry yo' skirt.