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As usual, it was not the intention of the boys to return, and as they mounted their horses to leave, all the welled-up savage in Dell seemed to burst forth. "Welcome, Mr. Wolf, welcome," said he, with mimic sarcasm and a gesture which swept the plain. "I've worked like a dog all day and the feast is ready. Mrs. Wolf, will you have a hackberry plate, or do you prefer the scent of cottonwood?
The still smaller, opposite twigs of the maples murmur like the tender tones of the altos and the fine, yielding spray of the birches, the feathery elm and the hackberry make music pure and sweet as the wailing of the first violins.
"Shall we take the peas out under the hackberry and shell them," said Maria. "Yes, my dear, but first tell me where Erasmo is." "Sitting on the steps, mother. I know he will help us to shell them, for he said it was mere fun, picking peas." "Say nothing to him of the Padre or his conversation, but interest him about other things." They left the room swinging the basket between them. Mrs.
"Stand up," said Shorty, approaching Hackberry with the bright crimson rod in his hand. "I'm goin' to measure you for a grass-green suit that'll last you till Gabriel blows his horn." Hackberry gave a howl of terror. The 'Squire and Mrs. Bolster began a clamor of protests. "Don't fuss," said Shorty calmly to them, as he took Hackberry's dimensions. "I ain't goin' to show no partiality.
Colonel Culpepper was sitting in the office of Ward and Barclay over the Exchange National Bank waiting for the junior member of the firm to come in; the senior member of the firm, who had just brought up an arm load of green hickory and dry hackberry stove wood, was standing beside the box-shaped stove, abstractedly brushing the sawdust and wormwood from his sleeves and coat front.
"Leave him with us, then. We'll turn him back to you all right, and the old woman and the 'Squire, too, if you want 'em." "No," said the Captain, with an impatient wave of his hand. "Keep them, do what you please with them. If you should accidentally kill the old woman I should not be unduly distressed. But don't let Hackberry get away from you.
Then we'll ship the cripples up to Hackberry Grove, and that will free the new tanks water enough for twenty trail herds. We have the horses, and these trail outfits will lend us any help we need. By shifting cattle around, I can see a month's supply. And there may be something in water rising at night. We'll know in the morning." Sleep blotted out the night.
They then rumbled on for some time in silence. When they came within sight of Snobston Green, the coast was clear. Not a red coat, or hunting indication of any sort, was to be seen. 'They be gone to Hackberry Dean, said an old man, breaking stones by the roadside.
Proud knight, proud lady, gentlemen, gentlewomen, and unknown humble folk, in common brotherhood at last, "dust to dust" and unmarked level ground above them. One of the most notable of the remaining tombs is that of Lady Frances Berkeley, who rests beneath the shadow of the great hackberry tree that is said to have been brought over, a slender sapling, from England.
On reaching the ranch he found that Sam Galloway was not there. His guitar hung by its buckskin string to a hackberry limb, moaning as the gulf breeze blew across its masterless strings. The Kiowa endeavoured to explain. "Sam, he catch pony," said he, "and say he ride to Frio City. What for no can damn sabe. Say he come back to-night. Maybe so. That all."
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