old Sue air fractious an' contrairy-minded, and feels mighty anxious
an' oneasy 'boutn her calf, that's ez tall ez she is nowadays, an' don't
keer no mo' 'bout her mammy 'n a half-grown human does. I tell her she
oughtn't ter be mad with me, but with the way she brung up her chile, ez
won't notice her now."

She looked up with a laugh, her eyes and teeth gleaming; her golden hair
still showed its color beneath the spotless whiteness of her voluminous
headgear, and the clear tints of her complexion seemed all the more
delicate and fresh in the snowy pallor of the surroundings and the
grayness of the evening.

"I reckon I'd better take it along," and once more she addressed herself
to the effort to insert the dip into the lantern.

Emory hardly heard. His pulse was quick. His eye glittered. He breathed
hard as, with both hands in his pockets, he came close to her.

"Mill'cent," he said, "I told ye the t'other day ez ye thunk a heap too
much o' that thar stran-ger-"

"An' I tole ye, bubby, that I didn't think nuthin' o' nobody but
you-uns," she interrupted, with an effort to placate his jealousy. The
little jocularity which she affected dwindled and died before the steady
glow of his gaze, and she falteringly looked at him, her unguided hands
futilely fumbling with the lantern.

"Ye can't fool me," he stoutly asseverated. "Ye think mo' o' him 'n o'
me, kase ye 'low he air rich, an' book-larned, an' smooth-fingered, an'
fini-fied ez a gal, an' goin' ter buy the hotel. I say, _hotel!_ Now
_I'll_ tell ye what he is--I'll tell ye! He's a criminal. He's runnin'
from the law. He's hidin' in the old hotel that he's purtendin' ter
buy."

She stared wide-eyed and pallid, breathless and waiting.

He interpreted her expression as doubt, denial.

"It's gospel sure," he cried. "Fur this very evenin' I met a gang o'
men an' the sheriff's deputy down yander by the sulphur spring 'bout
sundown, an' he 'lowed ez they war a-sarchin' fur a criminal ez war
skulkin' round hyarabout lately--ez they wanted a man fur hevin'
c'mitted murder."

"But ye didn't accuse _him_, surely; ye hed no right ter s'picion _him_.
Uncle Sim! Oh, my Lord! Ye surely wouldn't! Oh, Uncle Sim!"

Her tremulous words broke into a quavering cry as she caught his arm
convulsively, for his face confirmed her fears. She thrust him wildly
away, and started toward the house.

"Ye needn't go tattlin' on me," he said, roughly pushing her aside.
"I'll tell Mr. R