An'
Towse, he dragged hisself under thar, too--jes' a-growlin' an' a-
snappin'. I thought fur sartin every minit he'd bite my foot off."
He resumed his self-imposed task of counting the rifle balls, and
now and then a sharp click told that another was consigned to that
limbo guarded by Towse. Mrs. Dicey stood in silence for a time,
gazing upon the unutterably gloomy forest, the distant, throbbing
stars, and the broad, wan flashes at long intervals gleaming through
the sky.
"It puts me in a mighty tucker ter hev yer brother a-settin' out
through the woods this hyar way, an' a-leavin' of we-uns hyar, all
by ourselves sech a dark night. I'm always afeared thar mought be a
bar a-prowlin' round. An' the cornfield air close ter the house,
too."
"Pete Thompson--him ez war yander ter the tanyard day 'fore yestiddy
with his dad," said the boy, "he tole it ter me ez how he seen a bar
las' Wednesday a-climbin' over the fence ter thar cornfield, with a
haffen dozen roastin'-ears under his arm an' a watermillion on his
head. But WAR it a haffen dozen? I furgits now ef Pete said it war
a haffen dozen or nine ears of corn the bar hed;" and he paused to
reflect in the midst of his important occupation.
"I'll be bound Pete never stopped ter count 'em," said Mrs. Dicey.
"Pick that chile up an' come in. I'm goin' ter bar up the door."
Birt Dicey plodded away through the deep woods and the dense
darkness down the ravine.
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