He was not aware of an approach till the new-comer
was close upon him; in fact, the first he knew of Nate Griggs's
proximity was the sight of him. Nate was glancing about with his
usual air of questioning disparagement, and cracking a long lash at
the spent bark on the ground.
"Hello, Nate!" Birt cried out, eagerly. "I'm powerful glad ye
happened ter kem hyar, fur I hev a word ter say ter ye."
"I dunno ez I'm minded ter bide," Nate said cavalierly. "I hates to
waste time an' burn daylight a-jowin'."
He was still cracking his lash at the ground. There was a sudden,
half-articulate remonstrance.
Birt, who had turned away to the bark-mill, whirled back in a rising
passion.
"Did ye hit Tennessee?" he asked, with a dangerous light in his
eyes.
"No--I never!" Nate protested. "I hain't seen her till this minute.
She war standin' a-hint ye."
"Waal, ye skeered her, then," said Birt, hardly appeased. "Quit
snappin' that lash. 'Pears-like ter me ez ye makes yerself powerful
free round this hyar tanyard."
"Tennie air a-growin' wonderful fast," the sly Nathan remarked
pleasantly.
Birt softened instantly. "She air a haffen inch higher 'n she war
las' March, 'cordin' ter the mark on the door," he declared,
pridefully. "She ain't pretty, I know, but she air powerful peart."
"What war the word ez ye war layin' off ter say ter me?" Nate asked,
curiosity vividly expressed in his face.
Birt leaned back against the pile of bark and hesitated.
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