ime, while he wus at the scales, he'd ax 'er what ailed her
an' Lizzie, anyway. But I reckon Clem has quit axin' fool questions,
fer she turned on 'im like a tiger-cat. Sez she:

"'Liz Lithicum dared to say my child made a fool o' herse'f about John
Westerfelt. That's exactly what Liz an' other folks sez about yore
wife. I don't see what right you have to ax me sech a question.'
Well, sir, Clem was so much set back 'at he couldn't hardly speak, an'
he spilled a scoop o' coffee on the counter 'fore he could get it into
the old woman's poke. After she had gone out, laughin' in her sneakin'
way, Clem come back whar I wus at by the stove an' set down an' spit
about two dozen times. Arter 'while he axed me ef I'd ever heerd the
talk about his wife, an' I eased him all I could, but, lawsy me, you
ort ter see 'im hop up an' bow an' scrape when old Sue comes in the
store now. Clem ain't a jealous man--I reckon he's been married too
long for that. In my courtin' days I used to be jealous actually of
Clariss's own daddy, but now I make a habit o' invitin' the preacher to
our house every third Sunday so I kin git a decent meal an' set an'
smoke in the kitchen. John, you don't seem to be any nigher marryin'
now than you wus awhile back."

Westerfelt smiled, but made no reply.

"Well, you'd better keep on a-thinkin' it over," counselled Slogan, as
he took the saddle and blanket from his horse and examined a rubbed
spot on the animal's back; "thar's a heap more fun marryin' in a body's
mind than before a preacher; the law don't allow a feller but one sort
of a wife, but a single man kin live alone, an' fancy he's got any kind
he wants, an' then she won't be eternally a-yellin' to 'im to fetch in
fire-wood. A young feller kin make a woman a sight more perfect than
the Creator ever did, an' He's had a sight o' practice. I reckon the
Lord made 'em like they are to keep men humble and contrite an' to show
up to advantage His best work on t'other shore. But so long, John, I
must be goin'."

Chapter XI

It was a dark night two weeks later. Westerfelt, quite recovered from
his illness, was returning from a long ride through the mountains,
where he had been in search of a horse that had strayed from the stable.

The road along the mountain-side was narrow and difficult to follow.
At times he was obliged to ascend places so steep that he had to hold
to the mane of his horse to keep from falling off.

At the foot of