Part 37 (1/2)

”No,” said Hale quickly.

”Well, they air, an' all of 'em are going West--Uncle Judd, Loretty and June, and all our kinfolks. You didn't know that?”

”No,” repeated Hale.

”Well, they hain't closed all the trades yit,” he said, ”an' they mought not go mebbe afore spring. The Falins say they air done now. Uncle Judd don't believe 'em, but I do, an' I'm thinkin' I won't go. I've got a leetle money, an' I want to know if I can't buy back Uncle Judd's house an' a leetle ground around it. Our folks is tired o' fightin' and I couldn't live on t'other side of the mountain, after they air gone, an'

keep as healthy as on this side--so I thought I'd see if I couldn't buy back June's old home, mebbe, an' live thar.”

Hale watched him keenly, wondering what his game was--and he went on: ”I know the house an' land ain't wuth much to your company, an' as the coal-vein has petered out, I reckon they might not axe much fer it.” It was all out now, and he stopped without looking at Hale. ”I ain't axin'

any favours, leastwise not o' you, an' I thought my share o' Mam's farm mought be enough to git me the house an' some o' the land.”

”You mean to live there, yourself?”

”Yes.”

”Alone?” Dave frowned.

”I reckon that's my business.”

”So it is--excuse me.” Hale lighted his pipe and the mountaineer waited--he was a little sullen now.

”Well, the company has parted with the land.” Dave started.

”Sold it?”

”In a way--yes.”

”Well, would you mind tellin' me who bought it--maybe I can git it from him.”

”It's mine now,” said Hale quietly.

”YOURN!” The mountaineer looked incredulous and then he let loose a scornful laugh.

”YOU goin' to live thar?”

”Maybe.”

”Alone?”

”That's my business.” The mountaineer's face darkened and his fingers began to twitch.

”Well, if you're talkin' 'bout June, hit's MY business. Hit always has been and hit always will be.”

”Well, if I was talking about June, I wouldn't consult you.”

”No, but I'd consult you like h.e.l.l.”

”I wish you had the chance,” said Hale coolly; ”but I wasn't talking about June.” Again Dave laughed harshly, and for a moment his angry eyes rested on the quiet mill-pond. He went backward suddenly.

”You went over thar in Lonesome with your high notions an' your slick tongue, an' you took June away from me. But she wusn't good enough fer you THEN--so you filled her up with yo' fool notions an' sent her away to git her po' little head filled with furrin' ways, so she could be fitten to marry you. You took her away from her daddy, her family, her kinfolks and her home, an' you took her away from me; an' now she's been over thar eatin' her heart out just as she et it out over here when she fust left home. An' in the end she got so highfalutin that SHE wouldn't marry YOU.” He laughed again and Hale winced under the laugh and the las.h.i.+ng words. ”An' I know you air eatin' yo' heart out, too, because you can't git June, an' I'm hopin' you'll suffer the torment o' h.e.l.l as long as you live. G.o.d, she hates ye now! To think o' your knowin' the world and women and books”--he spoke with vindictive and insulting slowness--”You bein' such a--fool!”