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Unfortunately he had not stopped there. "I saw him try to kiss ye," he said indignantly. "Have you never tried to kiss a girl?" Mavis had asked quietly, and Jason reddened. "Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "And did she always let ye?" "Well, no not " "Very well, then," Mavis snapped, and she flaunted away. It was different now, the matter was more serious, and now they were cousins and Hawns.
"I used to know some Hawns down in your mountains. A little fellow named Jason Hawn used to go around with me all the time." Her eyes filled and then flashed happily. "Why, mebbe you air the rock-pecker?" "The what?" "The jologist. Jason's my cousin. I wasn't thar that summer. Jason's always talkin' 'bout you." "Well, well I guess I am. That is curious."
Then they rode to the Hawn store, and old Jason called his henchman out and spoke like words that all the Hawns could hear. And each old man ended his discourse with a profane dictum that sounded like the vicious snap of a black-snake whip. "By God, hit's GOT to stop."
He was big enough to handle a Winchester now, and he would leave his mother and he would fight openly with the Hawns. And then as he went slowly down the spur he began to wonder with fresh suspicion what his mother and Steve might now do, what influence Steve might have over her, and if he might not now encourage her to sell her land. And, if that happened, what would become of him?
He carried no tales from one faction to the other, condemned neither one nor the other, and made the same comment to both that it was foolish to fight when there was so much else so much more profitable to do. Once an armed band of mounted Honeycutts had met him in the road and demanded news of a similar band of Hawns up a creek.
In the mountains many had never heard of Christmas and few of Christmas stockings, Santa Claus, and catching Christmas gifts not even the Hawns, But Mavis and Jason had known of Christmas, had celebrated it after the mountain way, and knew, moreover, what the Blue-grass children did not know, of old Christmas as well, which came just twelve days after the new.
Railroads were building, mines were opening, great trees were falling for timber. Even the Hawns and Honeycutts were too busy for an actual renewal of the feud, though the casual traveller was amazed to discover slowly how bitter the enmity still was. But the feud in no way checked the growth going on in all ways, nor was that growth all material. More schools than St.
Half an hour later there was a stir among the Hawns, for little Aaron rode by. A few minutes later Aaron came toward the Hawn store, in the middle of the street, swaggering. Jason happened at that moment to be crossing the same street, and a Hawn shouted warning. Jason looked up and saw Aaron coming. He stopped, turned, and waited until Aaron reached for his gun.
The trials of Steve Hawn and of Hiram Honeycutt for the death of the autocrat were bringing back the old friction. Charges and counter-charges of perjury among witnesses had freshened the old enmity between the Hawns and the Honeycutts.
When they entered town there were Hawns in front of one store and one hotel on one side of the street. There were Honeycutts in front of one store and one hotel on the other side, and Jason saw the lowering face of little Aaron, and towering in one group the huge frame of Babe Honeycutt.
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