es down on her nose and squinted up
at us. When she saw me, she started back and dropped her hands. "Great
fathers!" she ejaculated, "I hope I may go to the blessed God if it
ain't Quiller gaddin' over the country, an' Mister Ward a-dyin'."

It seemed to me that the earth lurched as it swung, and every joint in
my body went limber as a rag. I caught at El Mahdi's mane, then I felt
Jud's arm go round me, and heard Ump talking at my ear. But they were a
long distance away. I heard instead the bees droning, and Ward's merry
laugh, as he carried me on his shoulder a babbling youngster in a little
white kilt. It was only an instant, but in it all the good days when I
was little and Ward was father and mother and Providence, raced by.

Then I heard Ump. "It's a lie, Quiller, a damn lie. Don't you remember
what Patsy said? Not to believe anything you hear? Do you think she ran
that horse to death for nothin'? It was to tell you, to git to you first
before Woodford's lie got to you. Don't you see? Oh, damn Woodford!
Don't you see the trick, boy?"

Then I saw. My heart gave a great thump. The sunlight poured in and I
was back in the road by the old carpet-weaver's cottage.

The old woman was alarmed, but her curiosity held like a cable.

"What's he sayin'," she piped; "what's he sayin'?"

"That it's all a lie, Aunt Peggy," replied Jud.

She turned her squint eyes on him. "Who told you so?" she said.

"Who told you?" growled Ump.

"Them as knows," she said. And the curiosity piped in her voice. "Did
they lie?"

"They did," said Ump; "Mister Ward's hurt, but he ain't dangerous."

"Bless my life," cried the old woman, "an' they lied, did they? I think
a liar is the meanest thing the Saviour died for. They said Mister Ward
was took sudden with blood poison last night, an' a-dyin', the
scalawags! I'll dress 'em down when I git my eyes on 'em."

"Who were they, Aunt Peggy?" I ventured.

She made a funny gesture with her elbows, and then shook her finger at
me. "You know I can't tell that, Quiller," she piped, "but the blessed
God knows, an' I hope He'll tan their hides for 'em."

"I know, too," said Ump.

The old woman leaned out of the door. "Hey?" she said; "what's that? You
know? Then maybe you'll tell why they come a-lyin'."

"Can you keep a secret?" said Ump, leaning down from his saddle.

The old woman's face lighted. She put her hand to her ear and craned her
neck like a turtle. "Yes," she said, "I can that."