writhed in a simper that intensified
their ugliness. His coveting of this woman was suddenly magnified by
sight of her loveliness, flawless in the brilliant light. The
blood-shot eyes darted luxuriously over the curving graces beneath the
scant homespun garment.

The girl sensed the insult of the man's regard. It, rather than the
insolent familiarity of address, provoked her outburst.

"Shet yer mouth, Dan Hodges," she snapped. "I've done told ye afore,
ye kain't 'honey' me. If ye wants to pass the time o' day, jest don't
fergit as how hit's Miss Plutiny fer you-all."

Hodges gaped bewilderedly under the rebuke. Then he growled
defiantly.

[Illustration:
_Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick._
BAD BLOOD BETWEEN RIVALS.]

"Wall, I'll be dogged! Quite some spit-fire, hain't ye? Reckon I know
what's a-bitin on ye. Ye're mad kase Uncle Dick tuk the mounting land
ye gals look to heir to, to bail me and Ben." He stared at the girl
ominously, with drawn brows. His voice was guttural with threatening.
"So be ye mout hev to eat them words o' your'n. Mebby, when I've done
tole ye a thing er two, ye'll be a-askin' of me to call ye 'honey.'
Mebby, ye'll want to hover yer ole 'hon,' arter I let's ye know a
thing or two 'bout the doin's o' you-all an' thet damned little runt,
thet reportin' dawg sweetheart o' your'n--Zeke Higgins."

The girl was stricken. She understood the outlaw's reference. Somehow
he had gained certain knowledge of Zeke's part in saving the
Quaker-school-teacher spy. She realized that the criminal gang would
not hesitate at the murder of one who had thus foiled them. For the
moment, she gave no heed to the danger that menaced herself as well.
Her whole concern was for her lover. The single comfort came from the
fact of his absence. Much as she had been longing for his coming, her
prayer now was that he should not return until these men were
imprisoned.

With a fierce effort toward bravery in the face of catastrophe,
Plutina stood up, and drew herself proudly erect. Her dark eyes
flashed wrathfully. She spoke with disdain:

"Ye wouldn't dast say that to Zeke Higgins' teeth. Mebby, he hain't so
thick through as you-all, and he hain't so thick-headed, nuther. An'
he hain't no runt, as ye'd find quick 'nuf, if so be's ye dast stand
up to him, man to man, 'stid o' with a gun from the laurel. He's a
man--what you-all hain't. He hain't the kind to layway from the
bushes, ner to be a-