poor little cat of mine; and I forgot God--the good God--and
said wicked things; and I could have torn them into little, little
pieces! But we--we shall be very good and patient after this, won't we,
Hector--you and me--no, you and _I_? What is it when you lick my face
that way? Does it mean that you understand?"

VI

BLUE BLOOD AND RED

In a world full of puzzling questions for Thomas Jefferson, one of the
chief clustering points of the persistent "whys" was Major Dabney's
attitude, as a Man of Sin, and as the natural overlord of Paradise
Valley.

That the Major was a Man of Sin there could be no manner of doubt.
During the revival he had been frequently and pointedly prayed for by
that name, and the groans from the Amen corner were conclusively
damning. Just what the distinction was between a Man of Sin and a
sinner--spelled with a small "s"--was something which Thomas Jefferson
could never quite determine; but the desire to find out made him spy on
Major Dabney at odd moments when the spying could be done safely and
with a clear field for retreat in the event of the Major's catching him
at it.

Thus far the spying had been barren of results--of that kind which do
not have to be undone and made over to fit in with other things. Once,
Thomas Jefferson had been picking blackberries behind the wall of his
father's infield when the Major and Squire Bates had met on the pike.
There was some talk of the new railroad; and when the Squire allowed
that it was certain to come through Paradise, the Major had taken the
name of God in vain in a way that suggested the fiery blast roaring
from the furnace lip after the iron was out.

This was one of the results. But on reflection, Thomas Jefferson decided
that this could not be The Sin. Profane swearing--that was what the
Sunday-school lesson-leaf called it--was doubtless a mortal sin in a
believer; was not he, Thomas Jefferson, finding the heavens as brass and
the earth a place of fear and trembling because of that word to Nan
Bryerson? But in other people--well, he had heard his father swear once,
when one of the negroes at the furnace had opened the sand at the end of
the sow and let the stream of molten iron run out into the creek.

The charge of profanity being tried and found wanting in the Major's
case, there remained that of violence. One day, Tike Bryerson--Nan's
father and the man who had tried to kill his Uncle Silas in the revival
meeting--was beating hi