CHAPTER XXV.

AT NANCY'S HOME.

Lyman stood gazing after them as they drove away. The girl waved her hand at him, and then removing her glove, she waved it again. He saw the mother turn to her as if with a word of caution. The road was crooked, and a clump of bushes, a leafy bulge, soon hid them from view. Lyman walked slowly and not light of heart, up the hillside to the tree beneath which he had seen Warren and his new-found friends. There they were, sitting on the ground, eating.

"You are just in time for a snack," old man Pitt cried, waving the leg of a chicken.

"And here is some pie that Miss Nancy baked with her own hands," said Warren, moving closer to the girl to make room for his friend. "I have been telling Mr. Pitt about your funny marriage."

"Yes," Pitt spoke up, "and I was tellin' of him that if I was in your place and wanted her, now that I had the law on my side, I'd have her or a fight or a foot race, one or tuther, it wouldn't make much difference which. Of course I mean if I found out after the joke was all over that I wanted her, for I tell you—have a piece of this light corn bread—I tell you that it is a mighty serious thing when a man wants a woman and wants her bad. Here's some pickles—they ain't good, but they'll do at a shake-down. But this here ham's prime. Serious thing, sir, when a man wants a woman and wants her right bad. There's a case in our neighborhood of a young feller goin' crazy after a woman he wanted. It ain't but once in a while, you know, that a feller finds the woman set up to suit him, and when he do find her, why he ought to sorter spit on his hands—figurative like," he made haste to add, catching the reproving eye of his daughter. "Spit on his hands figurative like and give it out cold that he is there to stay till the cows come home. And that reminds me that this here butter ain't of the best. The cow eat a lot of beet tops and it didn't help her butter none, I contend, still some folks wouldn't notice it. I hear 'em say, Mr. Whut's-your-name, that you come from away up yander whar rocks is so plenty on the farms that in a hoss trade it would be big boot if a feller was to throw in a hankerchuf full of dirt. I don't blame you for comin' away from thar."

"It's pretty rocky up there," said Lyman. "One of our humorists—Doesticks," he added, nodding to Warren, "said that we had to slice our potatoes and slip them down edgeways between the rocks."

The old man sprawled himself on the ground and laughed. "Well, if they was to go out a shootin' at liars wheat straw would leak through that feller's hide. How are you gittin' along over thar, Mr. Warren?" he inquired, sitting up and again devoting himself to the chicken.

"First rate, don't know when I've eaten as much."

"Oh, you haven't eat a thing," Miss Nancy protested, looking at him in great surprise. "You'd soon die at this rate."

"You are right, but not of starvation. I suppose they are feeding the preacher," he said, looking round. "Yes, they've got him up there. Look the women are bringing him things from all directions. Lyman, your people didn't wait to congratulate him. I think it hurt him, too, for I saw his countenance fall. You must have said something to hurry the old lady off."

"No, on the contrary I rather urged her to stay."

"Yes, and that's what sent her off."

"But what's to be the outcome of the affair?" the old man asked. "Of course you wouldn't want to tie her up so she couldn't marry anybody else, though I honor your pluck in not lettin' 'em force you into signin' the paper. McElwin is a mighty over-bearin' sort of a man. I worked a piece of land year before last over on the creek near a field that belonged to him, and sir, the hired feller that delved and swetted thar 'peered like he thought it was a great privilege to drag himself over the ground that belonged to McElwin. He p'inted him out one day as he driv along in a buggy and when my eyes didn't pop out of my head he was might'ly 'stonished. Yes, sir, they think the Lord was proud of the job when that man was put on earth. Well, I believe they are gettin' ready to go back into the house, and if you folks want to go, don't let me hold you."

"Ain't you goin' to hear him, pap?" the girl asked, getting up and brushing the twigs from her skirt.

"Wall, I don't believe I will jest at the present writin'," he drawled. "He's a good old feller and all that sort of thing, and I reckon he do love the Lord, but he nipped me in a hoss swop about twenty-odd year ago, and whenever I hear him preach I can't git it out of my head that he's trying to nip me agin."

"Why, pap, that was long before he joined the church."

"Yes, but I can't help from holdin' that a man that will nip you in a hoss swop one time will do it agin if he gets the chance."

"Well," she said, "you would have nipped him if you could."

"Yes, that mout be, but I wouldn't have come round preachin' to him afterwards. Go on in, you young folks, and I'll waller around here a while and then go down and see how my hosses air gettin' along."

"And I will stay with you," said Lyman. The romance had gone out of the old house, for him, but not for Warren and Nancy. Warren walked to the church with her, and she pleaded with him to let her go up to the door alone.

"Why should we care what they think?" he said.

"Oh, I care a good deal. They would talk about me and laugh at me, and besides you ain't no kin to me. It's only kin folks that set together."

"They don't know whether I'm any kin to you or not."

"Yes, they do. They know that I haven't any young men kin folks round here but cousin Jerry."

"Who the deuce is he? Hold on a moment. Tell me about that fellow Jerry."

"Oh, there ain't nothin' to tell except he's my cousin. If you let me go in alone I'll tell you all about him when I come out."

He suffered her to go in alone, but he sat as close to her as he could, on a bench just opposite, and it was so evident that he wanted to be nearer that a hillside wag remarked to a friend; "See that young feller a leanin' in toward her like a young steer with a sore neck." The remark was passed from one to another and a titter went round the room. Warren saw her blush and realizing that he was the cause of her embarrassment, he leaned back, and the wag remarked: "Other side of his neck's sore now—he's leanin' tuther way."

Lyman and the old man walked about the grounds. Pitt suggested going to the spring, but Lyman drew back from the idea as if the place were desolate now. They went down the road to a mossy place where the ironwood trees leaned out over a stream. They looked at the sun-fish flashing their golden sides in the light; they sat down to smoke a pipe, the rising voice of the preacher seeming to sift in the leaves above them. The sun was shining aslant when they got up and a shadow lay upon the pool.

"He must be on the home-stretch," said the old man, nodding toward the house. "I'll go over and hitch up the horses."

"I have a similar task to perform," Lyman replied. "I'll see you again before I start home."

"All right, and I am much obleeged for your company."

The sermon was over before the horses were harnessed. Warren came running to Lyman. "You ride with the old man and let me take the girl in the spring wagon," said he.

"What; we may not go in the same direction."

"Of course we do. We are going home with them. It's all right. I've put the old man down for a year's subscription."

"And you want to go over there to board it out. Is that it?"

"I hadn't thought of that. But I could do it."

"Does he know that he's a subscriber?"

"Not yet, but I can tell him. Miss Nancy wants us to go."

"Did she say so?"

"Well, now what would be the use of saying so? She could say it as easily as not. And I guess she would have said it if she had thought to. But I know she wants us to go. Come, now, won't you go just to oblige me? Remember, I didn't kick very hard when you killed all my best pieces of news. Let me have a fling now, won't you? You've been having all the fun—marriage and White Caps. Won't you go just to oblige me?"

"Yes, I'll ride with the old man or I'll ride on a rail when you put it that way."

"All right. Here she comes now, and the old man's up there waiting for you."

During the drive, the old fellow commented upon the historical places along the road. He pointed out the spot where he had killed the last diamondback rattlesnake seen in that neighborhood; he directed Lyman's attention to a barn wherein five negroes had been hanged for rising against the whites in 1854; he pointed at a charred stump and told the story of a fanatic who had tied himself there and burned himself on account of his religion. They came at last to a large log house, the Pitt homestead, and had unharnessed the horses before Warren and Nancy came within sight. A tall woman, followed by a score of children of all sizes, came out to meet them.

"They ain't all mine," said the old man. "Them as looks about fryin' size belongs to the folks over the creek. Mother, this here is a friend of ourn from away up yonder whar they have to slice the potatoes and slip 'em down between the rocks, and I want to tell you that him and me fits one another like a hand and glove."

"I am mighty glad to meet you," said the woman, wiping her hands on her apron. "Come right in and excuse the looks of everything and make yourself at home. But, pap, where's Nancy?"

"Oh, she's comin' along in a carry-all with the town man that runs the paper. She's all right—she can take care of herself anywhere."

They went into the house, the children scattering and peeping from corners and from behind the althea bushes in the yard. Warren and Nancy soon came in laughing. The girl threw her hat on the bed, tucked up her skirts and went out to the kitchen to help her mother, and the old man excused himself on the grounds that he must go out to feed the stock.

"Warren, gallantry is all right, but this is cruel," said Lyman. "We are imposing on this family. Look how those women have to work, and they will strain every nerve to get us something to eat."

"Of course they will, and they like it. Do you know that? They do. You couldn't please them more than by eating with them, and I'm always willing to put myself out to please folks. Say, we'll stay here tonight and go in tomorrow."

"I am not going to stay. Doesn't it strike you that you are a trifle too brash, as they say around here? Don't you think so?"

"Not a bit of it. I want to stay till tomorrow to see whether I want to come back again or not. I want to find out whether I am in love with her or not. I think I am, but still I don't know, and my rule is that a man ought to know where he stands before he walks. We were passing under a tree and she reached up and pulled at a limb and her loose sleeve fell down and I saw her arm. That almost settled it. But I think I'll know definitely in the morning."

"Warren, I'm going back to town tonight."

"What, over that dark road? Don't you know we passed a good many dangerous places coming? Stay till tomorrow."

"No, I'll walk back and leave the wagon for you."

"That would be an outrage. If you go back, drive."

"No, to tell you the truth I would rather walk. I want to think."

"Then you'd rather go alone, anyway, wouldn't you? All right, and probably I can get her to come to town with me tomorrow. They've got to send in to buy things sometimes, I should think. By the by, I've got a lot of seeds sent by a congressman, and I'll tell the old man he can have them. Nothing catches one of these old fellows like seeds. He'll send her in after them tomorrow morning, and then I can find out how I stand."

"With her?"

"No, find out how I stand with myself—see whether I love her or not. Have you found out yet—in your case? Tell me, I won't say anything about it."

"Yes, I have found out."

"You needn't say—I guess I know." Warren reached over and took Lyman by the hand. "We save time and trouble when we put a man in a position so that he needn't say."

"Yes," said Lyman, "the greatest justice you can confer on a man, at times, is to permit him to be silent."

Nancy came hastily into the room and from the broad mantel-piece took down two beflowered tea-cups, kept there as ornaments. She smiled at Warren and brushed out with a mischievous toss of her comely head.

"We not only put them to extra trouble, but compel them to take down their decorations," Lyman remarked.

"But can't you see how she likes it?" Warren spoke up. "Probably it has been six months since they have had a chance to use those cups. We are doing them a favor, I tell you." He shook his head and sighed. "If she comes in here again and looks at me that way I'll know where I stand. Oh, I'm not slow, but I want to be certain."

They heard the old man talking in the kitchen, and then came his heavy tread on the loose and flapping boards of the passage-way. The door was cut so low that he had to duck his head. He came in with a stoop, but straightening himself in the majesty of conscious hospitality, he bowed and said: "Gentlemen, you will please walk out to supper."

Lyman began to offer an apology for putting the household to so much trouble. The old man bowed again and said: "We didn't bring no trouble home with us from church, but ruther a pleasure, sir."