ers so
close to the teeth."

"It's time to quit, anyhow," put in Bud; "the sun's 'way down, an' I'm
more'n middlin' hungry."

"You kin take the mule out an' go home an' make the fire. Will you go
an' git supper, Religion, or stay an' stir?"

"I reckon I'll stay and stir. You kin bring me some supper when you
come. We'll be here half the night."

With another look up the road, where the sunlight was fast fading, she
took up the wet bags which protected her dress, and passed under the
shed, glad to sit down and rest her aching limbs. The shed was a
primitive affair, but everything was convenient for syrup-boiling, and
the two long boilers were full of the golden-brown liquid. There was
nothing to do but to stir continually and keep a steady fire.

The short autumn twilight had died out, and the fields and woods were
slipping into gloom. The cane-mill was in the overseer's yard, and back
of it the quarter began. A multitude of sounds came up to Religion's
ear--the crying of babies, the laughing of children, the barking of
dogs, the whistle of the boys rubbing off the mules, the scolding and
calling of women for wood and water. Night was closing in. Religion
stirred and thought.

All Dr. Buzzard's instructions had been carefully followed. He had come
many times, performed a variety of strange operations, frightened and
gladdened them all one day by declaring that the red scorpion had passed
out of her body through her foot and run into the fire, that now all
danger was passed, pocketed thirty dollars which Minnie and Religion had
obtained by giving a lien on Beck, the old cow, all the corn in the
crib, and every article of furniture their cabin held; and still Min was
no better--was worse, indeed, with the worry of it all.

Some one was coming. "Is that you, Bud?" she called.

The unnatural laugh that answered her could belong to no one but Mack.
Lifting a blazing stick above her head, she peered out into the
darkness.

"Come fur youna," he mumbled. "Miss Tina goin' on drefful; come fur
youna quick."

"You go, Religion," said a woman who had come unperceived. "The Lord's
gwine to cl'ar up some t'ings what's took place in this quarter. You go,
an' I'll stay an' stir."

Religion hurried away. She found Tina tossing about in a pretty white
bed, her hands and feet bound in onions, her whole body swathed in red
flannel saturated with turpentine, and her head bandaged with dock
leaves wet with vinegar. There was a