for he looked ahead, as if he saw something that threatened her and him.
In spite of her soft touch, the boy looked on and on in his unyielding
fierceness at the fast approaching inevitable, which he had not been
able to stem. That day a change had been ordered in their lives, and it
had come upon him in the shape of a mental blow that hurt him far worse
than if Pappy Lon had flogged him throughout the night.

"If Pappy Lon sends me next Saturday to Lem," Flea ventured in an
undertone, "then ye can't help me much, can ye, Fluke?"

The muscles of the boy's face relaxed, and he drew his knee up to his
chest. "When my leg ain't lame I'm strong enough to lick Lem, if--if--"

"Nope; I ain't no notion for ye to lick him yet, Fluke. Do ye believe in
the sayin's of Screech Owl?"

"Ye mean--"

"Do ye believe what she says when the bats be a flyin' round in her
head, and when she sees the good land for you and myself, Flukey?"

"Did she say somethin' 'bout a good land for us, Flea?"

"Yep."

"Where's the good land?"

"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch from here--and, Flukey, I
ain't a goin' to Lena's, and ye ain't likin' to be a thief. Will ye come
and find the good land with me?"