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"Afore God," he declared in a low voice, "she war a comely gal!" Kenneth Thornton now self rechristened Cal Maggard, was up and his coffee pot was steaming on the live coals long before the next morning's sun had pierced its shafts into the gray opaqueness that cloaked the valleys.
"Hain't ye got qualities enough ter so much as say 'by yore leave' fer yoreself?" Cal Maggard met his accusation steadily as he answered: "Dorothy 'lowed she wanted ter tell ye fust-off her ownself. Thet's why I hain't spoke afore now." The wrath of surprise died as quickly as it had flared and the old man sat for a time with a far-away look on his face, then he rose and stood before them.
If so this was a lucid interval before death, and in it his mind was playing him no tricks. The supposed friend loomed in an unmasked and traitorous light which even the preconceived idea could not confuse or mitigate. Maggard did not want to give credence to the certainty that was shaping itself and yet the conviction had been born and could not be thrust back into the womb of the unborn.
"I'm beholden ter ye," responded Maggard, but he knew what the other had been too polite to say: That this pretended casualness marked the kindly motive of affording escort because of the danger under which he himself was travelling unfamiliar roads.
Then Maggard heard, so low that it seemed a joyous and musical whisper, the announcement from the foot of his bed: "I'm goin' ter fetch Uncle Jase Burrell now, ter tend yore hurts, Cal," she said, softly. "I jest couldn't endure ter start away twell I seed ye open yore eyes, though." Maggard glanced toward Bas Rowlett who stood looking solicitously down at him and licked his lips.
He threw fresh fuel on the fire and then, over-wearied with the night's excitement, let his head fall forward on his breast and his breath lengthen to a snore. Then in a low but peremptory voice Maggard said: "Rowlett, come hyar."
Maggard shook himself like a dog roused from contented sleep and sat up straight. "I hain't nuver seed her but jest one time, an' I hain't nuver passed no word of speech with her," he replied. "When I come by ther house an' tarried ter make my manners with ther old man, she was a-standin' in an upstairs winder lookin' out an' I seed her thar through ther branches of that big old walnuck tree.
Wa'al now ye names hit ter me, I reckon he does loiter 'round thar erbout all he das't he's ther hang-roundin'est feller ye ever seed but ther only chanst he's got air fer every other man ter fall down an' die." "I fared over thar last night," said Maggard with a level glance at his companion, "an' I met ther gal. She seemed right shy-like an' didn't hev much ter say one way ner t'other."
"Ef I owned ther place I'd shorely throw ther axe inter hit afore it drawed a lightnin' bolt down on ther roof." Cal Maggard, who had known walnuts only growing in the forest, gazed down now with something of wonderment at this one which stood alone.
Maggard gazed down at the girl and the girl, with a hand resting on a porch post, stood looking off out of eyes that caught and gave back the soft light from the moon. To Maggard she seemed unconditionally lovely, but the fetters of shyness still held them both. "I don't know many folks hyarabouts yit," he said with impetuous suddenness. "I'd plumb love ter hev ye befriend me."
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