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And nearly always they were stories of the Tiger "yer gran'pap, leetle missey," they would say. And then, by palms, and pearls, and the fires of blazing mountains, they would swear "He wor a man!"
"Won't Tilly be proud of herse'f as the daughter of Old Judge Biggers? An' me jes' think of me as the grandmother of Biggerses the riches' an' fines' family in the land." "An' me? I'll be the gran'pap of 'em won't I, Sally?" "You forgit, Davy," said Aunt Sally "this is yo' will you'll be dead."
They norates thet ther Doanes holds me accountable fer whatever ther Harpers does good or evil because I stands as heir ter yore gran'pap. They tells me likewise thet ther Harpers hain't got no settled leader, an' only two things hinders me from claimin' thet job myself: Fust place, I don't crave ter mingle in thar ructions, and second place they won't hev none of me.
One afternoon they were seated in the grape arbor enjoying the early grapes, which were forbidden, when Uncle Jonah suddenly appeared. The only way to escape was through the vines and lattice, a tight squeeze, and Uncle Jonah nearly had them. "I seed yo'," Uncle Jonah called, "an' I's gwine tell yo' Gran'pap." Andy and Hortense ran as if possessed.
"I'm goin'," he said as their eyes met in a flash of understanding, "ter seek fer yore gran'pap." "I fears me hit's too late...." Her gaze went outward and as she looked the man needed no explanation. "Ef he's still alive," she added, resolutely, with a return of self-control, "ther danger's done passed now. Hit would kill ye ter go out in this storm, weak as ye be. Let's strive ter be patient."
"Now I do hope Cousin Ann will like her summer coverings," he said. "She's sho' too an' we's moughty 'bleeged ter you, Marse Jeff. Miss Ann an' me air jes' been talkin' 'bout how much you favors yo' gran'pap, Marse Bob Bucknor as war. I don't want ter put no disrespec' on yo' gran'mammy, but if Marse Bob Bucknor had er had his way Miss Ann would er been her."
"Guess you do somethin' for it," said Enoch, wisely. "She'd do it jest th' same if I didn't," declared Lot, yet with perfect good-nature, as though the Widow Breckenridge's vigorous applications of the beech wand was a part of existence not to be escaped. "Gran'pap says I might's well be hung for an ole sheep as a lamb, so in course I do somethin' for it mostly."
"I aims ter stand upright ter be wed," he scornfully asserted, "ef I don't nuver stand upright ergin! Ask Dorothy an' her gran'pap an' Bas Rowlett ter come in hyar. I wants ter hev speech with 'em all together." Uncle Jase yielded grudgingly to the stronger will and within a few minutes those who had been summoned appeared.
The familiarity loosened his tongue, however, and he asked, with a little explosive gasp, "Do yuh think they'll ketch 'im?" "Ketch who?" "The man that shot gran'pap." "They've got 'im now." "Hev they? How'd they ketch 'im?" "He gave himself up." "Will they hang 'im?" The coroner's eyes twinkled. "Don't you think they'd ought to?" "You bet!" Ulysses wagged his head with bloodthirsty vehemence.
But when he arrived Thornton was not indoors. He was strong enough now to move about the place a little, though he still fretted under a weakness that galled him, so Bas found Dorothy alone. "I reckon, leetle gal," he made a sympathetic beginning, "yore heart's right sore these days since yore gran'pap died. My own heart's sore fer ye, too."
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