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He tried to make out what the girl meant by looking at him from the mountain-side, by waving her bonnet at him, and by coming to old Gabe's mill when she could have gone to her own. To be sure, she did not know then who he was, and she had stopped coming when she learned; but why had she crossed again that day?
I had made this reconnoissance while my companion was engaged in fastening his pirogue to the tree. I had finished my survey as he entered. "Now, mass'," said he, "dis am ole Gabe's nest; de dam man-hunter no found 'im yeer." "Why, you are quite at home here, Gabriel! How did you ever find such a place?" "Lor', mass', knowd it long time.
Hendricks picked up the note, and after examining it a moment, asked quickly, "John, is that Gabe's signature?" "No I couldn't get Gabe to sign it and we had to have it to make his account balance." "And you forged his note, and are carrying it?" cried Hendricks, rising. "Oh, sit down, Bob we did it here amongst hands. It wasn't exactly my affair, the way it got squared around."
Farther down, under the crest, was old Steve Brayton, alive, and at that moment perhaps asleep. "Forgive your enemies;" that was the rider's plea. Forgive old Steve, who had mocked him, and had driven Rome from the mountains; who had threatened old Gabe's life, and had shot Steve Marcum almost to death!
He says, 'n' he always says it mighty loud Crump raised his own voice "thet the man as kills his feller-critter hev some day got ter give up his own blood, sartin 'n' shore." It was old Gabe's pet theory, and he was nodding approval. The boy's parted lips shook with a spasm of fear, and were as quickly shut tight with suspicion.
Old Gabe's voice was stern, and the young mountaineer doggedly swung the bag to his shoulders. The girl had caught the rope, and drawn the rude dugout along the shore. "Who axed ye to do that?" she asked, angrily. Rome dropped the bag into the boat, and merely looked her in the face.
The chill air began to pulse and the mists to stir. Moisture had gathered on the boy's sleeve. His horse was stamping uneasily, and the lad rose stiffly, his face gray but calm, and started home. At old Gabe's gate he turned in his saddle to look where, under the last sinking star, was once the home of his old enemies.
"Thanks," said Effie. "That makes it all the nicer." "Then " Gabe's face was radiant. But Effie shook her head quickly. "You're just twenty years late," she said. "Late!" expostulated Gabe. "I ain't no dead one yet." Effie pushed her plate away with a little air of decision, folded her plump arms on the table, and, leaning forward, looked Gabe I. Marks squarely in the eyes.
Then the seasons when Gabe's much-coveted bottle stood unclaimed on the shelf in its bravery of fine ribbons till far into the New Year, and was won then literally "by a scratch" on a road hardly downy with white, seem like a tale that is told, and we realize that latitude does not unaided make temperature. It is only in exceptional winters, after all, that we class for a brief spell with Naples.
"'Oh, nothin'! he says. 'Bije Simmons got a ball in the pocket, that's all. Don't do that too often, Bije; I got a weak heart. Well, Bailey, he adds, turnin' to me, 'Gabe's club's fixed up pretty fine, ain't it? "'Why, yes, I says; ''tis. "'Finest ever I see, says he. 'I told him so when I was in there. "'What? says I. 'You don't mean to say YOU'VE been in that clubroom? "'Sartin.
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