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Why anybody's willin' to have such a dum'd, wuthless, pestiferous varmint as that 'round 's more 'n I c'n understand. I'll bet that the days they churn, that critter, unless they ketch him an' tie him up the night before, 'll be under the barn all day, an' he's jest blowed off steam enough to run a dog churn a hull forenoon." Whether or not the episode of the dog had diverted Mr.
"You hold your tongue, you, readin' the law to your elders an' betters," said the old man, choking with wrath. "My business is with this wuthless sister o' yourn, not with you! You've got your coat and hood on, miss, so you jest clear out o' the house; an' if you're too slow about it, I'll help you along.
Then with a change of voice that startled me, he demanded in an undertone that must have been inaudible a dozen feet away, "Have things broke? Is de fight on? Has de row started?" Bewildered, I replied, "Why, no it's only Bill Hayden." Instantly he resumed his loud and abusive tone. "Well, if dey gwine send a boy heah foh wateh, wateh he's gotta have. Heah, you wuthless boy, git! Git out of heah!"
The last words were unfortunate. "Looks like you keer a heep fer yo' trees," sneered the mountain boy with a wave of his pistol toward a demolished woodland; "an' if our trees air so wuthless, whut do you furriners come down thar and rob us of 'em fer?" The sneer, the tone, and the bitter emphasis on the one ugly word turned Gray's face quite red.
"Well," said a round-shouldered farmer, who, in spite of his peaceable expression and faded gray eye, was known to have been one of the most daring followers of a rebel guerrilla chieftain, "what air yer gwine ter do about it? Ef you fellers air gwine ter set down an' let a wuthless nigger kill the bes' white man in Branson, an' not say nuthin' ner do nuthin', I 'll move outen the caounty."
Send me an inspiration, Lord, an' tell me how I can save his wuthless ol' hide. Save him an' an' God bless de Colonel! Amen." For an interval, in which the only sound was that of Job's feet as he strutted about seeking an edible successor to the bread, Uncle Noah remained upon his knees in the attitude of prayer, perhaps awaiting inspiration.
"He said that a son-in-law was a curious kind o' property," Abe began. "'Ye know, says Eb, 'if ye have a hoss that's tricky an' dangerous an' wuth less than nothin', ye can give him away er kill him, but if ye have a son-in-law that's wuthless, nobody else will have him an' it's ag'in' the law to kill him.
Of course, all of us had some good excuse for missing, Uncle Limpy-Jack's being the only valid one that his cap had snapped. He made much of this, complaining violently of "dese yere wuthless caps!" With a pin he set to work, and he had just picked the tube, rammed painfully some grains of powder down in it, and put on another cap which he had first examined with great care to impress us.
"I kept it secret from her on purpose, because I was afraid she would not approve. I went with Mark Wilson, and and I married him in New Hampshire because we couldn't do it at home without every-body's knowledge. Now you know all." "Do you mean to tell me you've gone an' married that reckless, wuthless, horse-trottin', card-playin' sneak of a Wilson boy that's courted every girl in town?
I did all I could t' bring myself up to a p'int that I hoped I could reach you frum but 't warn't in me. I was 'bout Maud Grace's limit, as I say, but I didn't want t' own to it, an' now," he gulped bravely, "'t ain't much of an offerin'! I'm a poor shote, but if I could, I'd use my wuthless life fur her. It's 'bout all I kin do." "And it is the greatest thing on earth, Mark!"
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