"Elder too old a bird?" the Squire suggested.

"Yes, I reckon he mought been," Sally innocently assented.

"And when he gave the benediction, the snorter disappeared in a flash,
with a strong smell of brimstone, I suppose?"

"Why, that was the thing of it, Squire. He just stayed, and shuck hands
with everybody, pleasant as a basket of chips; and he went home with David
Gillespie. He was just as polite to the poorest person there, but it was
the big bugs that tuck the most to him."

"Well," the Squire summed up, "I don't see but what your reports agree,
and I reckon there must be some truth in 'em. Who's that up there at the
pike-crossing?" He did not trouble himself to do more than frown heavily
in the attempt to make out the passer. Mrs. Reverdy jumped from her chair
and ran out to look.

"Well, as sure as I'm alive, if it ain't that Gillespie girl! I bet
she'll know all about it. I'll just ketch up with her and git the news out
of her, if there is any. Say, say, Jane!" she called to the girl, as she
ran up the road with the cow-like gait which her swirling skirt gave her.
The girl stopped for her; then in apparent haste she moved on again, and
Sally moved with her out of sight; her voice still made itself heard in
uncouth cries and laughter.

Braile called into the kitchen where Reverdy had remained in the
enjoyment of Mrs. Braile's patient hospitality, "Here's your chance, Abel!"

"Chance?" Reverdy questioned back with a full mouth.