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Somehow Birt did not accurately define the moral force which she had wielded, for he was untaught, and clumsy of speech, and could not translate his feelings. And Jube Perkins was hardly fitted to understand that subtle coercion of affection.
Andy Byers hesitated. He mechanically passed his fingers once or twice across the blunt, curved blade of the two-handled knife. "Ye'll keep the secret?" "In the sole o' my boot," said the tanner. "Waal, I KNOWS ez Birt stole the grant. I hev been powerful changeful, though, in my thoughts bout'n it.
"Oh, go 'long, bubby!" exclaimed poor Ethan, in dismay at the dilatoriness and indifference of his unique deliverer. "I'll give ye both o' the whings." He would have offered the turkey willingly, if "bubby" had seemed to crave it. "Waal, I'm goin' now." George Birt rose from the ground and started off briskly, exhilarated by the promise of both the "whings."
That pullin' fodder ez I hev got ter do sets mighty heavy on my stomach." "Tim an' yer dad ALWAYS pulls the fodder an' sech I knows ez that air a true word," said Birt, bluntly.
"Ah, my young friend," he motioned to Birt to come nearer, "I want to speak to you." Birt stared. One might have inferred, from the tone, that the gentleman had expected to meet him here, whereas Birt had just had the best evidence of his senses that the encounter was a great surprise. The boy observed his interlocutor more carefully than he had yet been able to do.
Birt cogitated for a moment. "Nate Griggs ain't goin' ter gin his cornsent ter nobody ter dig ennywhar down the ravine, ef it air inside o' his lines," he said confidently, "'kase I 'kase he leastwise, 'kase gold hev been fund hyar lately, an' he hev entered the land." The professor stopped short in the path. "Gold!" he ejaculated. "Gold!" Was there a vibration of incredulity in his voice?
An' dad gin his cornsent ter Nate ter let me work a month an' better fur him, ter pay out'n debt fur the shoat." "What work be you-uns goin' ter do?" Birt had a strong impression, amounting to a conviction, that there was something behind all this, which he was slowly approaching. "Why," said Tim, in surprise, "hain't ye hearn bout'n Nate's new land what he hev jes' got 'entered' ez he calls it?
"That air a true word, Birt," said Andy Byers, speaking to the boy for the first time in many days. "Ef they hev thar reason fur it, they mought hold thar hand fur a time, but fust or las' they'll hev all out'n ye ez the law will allow 'em." Birt listened in desperation.
"Yes, yes; but run along, bub. I mought fall off'n this hyar place, I'm gittin' stiff sittin' still so long, or the wind mought blow me off. The wind is blowin' toler'ble brief." "Gobbler or hen?" asked George Birt eagerly. "It air a hen," said Ethan. "But look-a-hyar, George, I'm a-waitin' on ye, an' ef I'd fall off'n this hyar place, I'd be ez dead ez a door-nail in a minute."
Birt, however, was beginning to see that a boy to drive that mule around the bark-mill was as essential as the mule himself. As Providence had failed to furnish the tanner with a son for this purpose his family consisting of several small daughters Birt supplied a long-felt want. The boy appreciated that his simple mother was over-reached, yet he could not see that she could do otherwise.
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