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Updated: June 27, 2025
"What word did he send ter me?" cried Purdee. The boy quailed to tell him.
But the skill of even Snake Purdee had to take a back seat in the face of the performance of Rolling Stone. Not only were his cakes better in taste, and more delicately browned, but he showed almost uncanny skill in tossing them high in the air, and catching them in the pan as they came down. Not once did a cake "slop over" that is descend half within and half without the pan.
The deeply earnest, pondering face, visible albeit the red light from the forge-fire was so dull, was keenly watched. For the inquiry was fraught with peculiar meaning to those cognizant of the long and bitter feud. "I ax," said Purdee, presently, "kase Grinnell sent me a mighty cur'ous word the t'other day." He lifted his head.
"Roger," he said, "we'uns hearn ye tell 'bout the scriptures graven on these hyar tables ez Moses flung down, an' we'uns 'lowed we'uns would kem an' read some fur ourselves." Purdee did not speak nor hesitate; he moved aside that the blacksmith might stand where he had been as it were at the foot of the page. But what transcendent glories thronged the heavens what august splendors of dawn!
It might reasonably be supposed that the rustlers would not again make a raid within a few days at least. And Old Billee, Yellin' Kid, Snake Purdee and Four Eyes, to say nothing of Buck Tooth, were well able to look after matters in Happy Valley. And thus proceeding at a foot pace, it was well after midnight when the boys started down the last slope that led into the valley proper.
Chilhowee, near at hand, was dark enough a purplish garnet hue; but the scarlet of the sour-wood gleamed in the cove; the hickory still flared gallantly yellow; the receding ranges to the north and south were blue and more faintly azure. The little log cabin stood with small fields about it, for Purdee barely subsisted on the fruits of the soil, and did not seek to profit.
The sense of having dreamed was so strong upon him that he stretched his arms and yawned. The gleaming teeth of the grouped shadows demonstrated the merriment evoked by the query. The chuckle was arrested midway. "Ye 'pear ter 'low ez suthin' hev happened ter Purdee, an' that thar war his harnt," suggested one. The bold young musician laid down his violin suddenly.
"We-uns 'ain't got none at our house," whined the sun-bonnet, droopingly, moving off slowly on its legs, which, indeed, seemed borrowed, so unsteady, and loath to go they were. The Grinnell boys laughed aloud, jeeringly and ostentatiously, and the Purdee blood was moved to retort: "We-uns don't want none sech ez that. Nary tooth in her head!"
"A sca'ce ch'ice," commented her mother. "Sheep's got ter be butchered. I'd ruther be the butcher, myself healthier." Purdee was gone. He had glanced absently at his wife as if he hardly heard. He waited till she paused; then, without answer, he stepped hastily out of the door and walked away.
"Whar d'ye make out enny letters, Roger?" persisted Spears. Purdee leaned over and eagerly pointed with his ramrod to a curious corrugation of the surface of the rock. Again the blacksmith bent down; the musician craned forward, his yellow hair hanging about his bronzed face.
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