"Now, git away," she said breathlessly, "git away--quick!"

"Mavis!" yelled the boy.

"Shet up!" she cried, and the lips of the routed boy fell apart in
sheer amazement, for never before had she made the slightest
question of his tyrannical authority, and then her eyes blazed at
the big Honeycutt and she stamped her foot.

"I'd give 'em to the meanest dog in these mountains."

The big man turned to the boy.

"Is he dead yit?"

"No, he ain't dead yit," said the boy roughly.

"Son," said the mountaineer quietly, "you tell whutever you please
about me."

The curiously gentle smile had never left the bearded lips, but in
his voice a slight proud change was perceptible.

"An' you can take back yo' corn pone, honey."

Then dropping the food in his hand back to the ground, he
noiselessly melted into the bushes again.

At once the boy went to work on his neglected corn-bread and fish,