"Shet up, Isom! Don't you go gittin' mad now. You'll be sick ag'in.
I'll tend to him when the time comes." Rome spoke with rough
kindness, but ugly lines had gathered at his mouth and forehead.
The boy's tears came and went easily. He drew his sleeve across
his eyes, and looked up the river. Beyond the bend, three huge
birds rose into the sunlight and floated toward them. Close at
hand, they swerved side-wise.

"They hain't buzzards," he said, standing up, his anger gone; "look
at them straight wings!

Again the eagles swerved, and two shot across the river. The third
dropped with shut wings to the bare crest of a gaunt old poplar
under them.

"Hit's a young un, Rome Y" said the boy, excitedly. "He's goin' to
wait thar tell the old uns come back. Gimme that gun!

Catching up the Winchester, he slipped over the ledge; and Rome
leaned suddenly forward, looking down at the river.

A group of horsemen had ridden around the bend, and were
coming at a walk down the other shore. Every man carried
something across his saddle-bow. There was a gray horse among
them - young Jasper's - and an evil shadow came into Rome's face,
and quickly passed. Near a strip of woods the gray turned up the
mountain from the party, and on its back he saw the red glint of a
woman's dress. With a half-smile he watched the scarlet figure ride
from the woods, and climb slowly up through the sunny corn. On