t ever walked
God's green earth--an' then the fool had to go and git fat on me! To
think of me with a _fat_ son! I allers did hold that a fat woman was bad
enough, but a fat man ort p'intedly to be led out an' killed."

"Jude, whar's my knife," came the call from the window in a masculine
voice. "Pitch it out here, can't you?"

Judith took the pocket-knife from the mantel, and going to the window
tossed it to her cousin Wade Turrentine, who was shaping an axe helve at
the chip pile.

"Do you know whar Huldy's gone?" she inquired, setting her elbows on the
sill and staring down at the young fellow accusingly.

"Nope--an' don't care neither," said Wade, contentedly returning to his
whittling. He was expecting to marry Huldah Spiller, Iley's younger
sister, within a few months, and the reply was thus conventional.

"Well, you'd better care," urged Judith. "You better make her stay home
and behave herself. She's gone over to Nancy Card's taggin' after Creed
Bonbright. I wouldn't stand it ef I was you."

"I ain't standin'--I'm settin'," retorted Wade with rather feeble wit;
but the girl noted with satisfaction the quick, fierce spark of anger
that leaped to life in his clear hazel eyes, the instant stiffening of
his relaxed figure. Like a child playing with fire, she was ready to set
alight any materials that came within reach of her reckless fingers, so
only that she fancied her own ends might be served. Now she went uneasily
back to the hearthstone. Her uncle, noting that she appeared engrossed in
her baking, gave a surreptitious glance into the small ancient mirror
standing on the high mantel, made a half-furtive exchange of coats, and
prepared to depart.

Up at the crib Blatch Turrentine was loading corn, and Jim Cal came
creeping across from his own cabin whence Iley had ejected him. He stood
for a while, humped, hands in pockets, watching the other's strong body
spring lithely to its task. Finally he began in his plaintive,
ineffectual voice.

"Blatch, I take notice that you seem to be settin' up to Jude. Do ye
think hit's wise?"

The other grunted over a particularly heavy sack, swung it to the waggon
bed, straightened himself suddenly, and faced his questioner with a look
of dark anger.

"I'd like to see the feller that can git her away from me!" he growled.

"I wasn't a-meanin' that," said Jim Cal, patiently but uneasily shifting
from the right foot to the left. "I'll admit--an' I reckon everybody on
t