face. Their eyes came near meeting, and she turned quite away.

Ever seed a body out'n his head?

The girl's eyes rounded with a start of surprise.

Well, it's plumb cur'us. Isom's been that way lately. Isom's sick,
ye know. Uncle Gabe's got the rheumatiz, 'n' Isom's mighty fond o'
Uncle Gabe, 'n' the boy pestered me till I come down to he'p him.
Hit p'int'ly air strange to hear him talkin'. He's jes a-ravin' 'bout
hell 'n' heaven, 'n' the sin o' killin' folks. You'd ha' thought he hed
been convicted, though none o' our fambly hev been much atter
religion. He says as how the wrath uv a livin' God is a-goin' to
sweep these mount ins, ef some mighty tall repentin' hain't done.
Of co'se he got all them notions from Gabe. But Isom al'ays was
quar, 'n' seed things hisself. He ain't no fool!"

The girl was listening. Morbidly sensitive to the supernatural, she
had turned toward him, and her face was relaxed with fear and
awe.

"He's havin' dreams 'n' sech-like now, 'n' I reckon thar's nothing
he's seed or heerd that he don' talk about. He's been a-goin' on
about you," he added, abruptly. The girl's hands gave a nervous
twitch. "Oh, he don't say nothin' ag'in' ye. I reckon he tuk a fancy
to ye. Mam was plumb distracted, not knowin' whar he had seed
ye. She thought it was like his other talk, 'n' I never let
on-a-knowin' how mam was." A flush rose like a flame from the
girl's throat to her hair. " But hit's this," Rome went on in an
unsteady tone, "that he talks most about, 'n' I'm sorry myself that