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The younger man straightened indignantly.

"Perry Northcutt's gal!"

"That's what I heard."

"Why, he ain't got no gal!"

"He ain't!"

"Naw, if he has I never saw her in my life."

"Then what the hell did Perry mean by runnin' you out o' the county!" cried Mr. Sandage.

"I didn't know he done it!" cried Abner, growing bewildered himself.

"Well, he done it all right!" declared the trustee, waggling a finger in the air. "He done it shore as God made little apples. Now we got the straight o' that!"

"What made him?" cried Abner, losing his anger in his amazement.

"Wasn't he kin to yore gal a-tall—didn't he collugue with her kin folks?"

"Hell, no!" shouted Abner. "I tell you they wasn't none of her kinfolks in the gang that beat me up! They was jest outsiders who had no rights whatsoever. I was goin' back down there to marry the damn gal on my own account, an' they grabbed me an' beat me like a dawg!" Tears of rage filled Abner's eyes; the muscles in his square brown jaws worked as he clenched his teeth.

"Well, by God," cried Sandage, catching his passion, "that's a hell of a way to treat a honest boy. Damn little 'Parson's Delight' of a town. Ought to be wiped out! Ab, my gun's right here in this drawer"—he thumped on his desk—"I don't say git it, but damn it, I ain't goin' to stan' here guardin' it for ever—an' they's a box of ca'tridges right by it, too!"

There was a pause in which Abner and his foster-father slew crowds of imaginary whitecaps. At last Mr. Sandage said with a little more composure, "What I don't understan' is how Perry Northcutt come into this? Did you have any business dealin's with Perry?"

"Nope, in fack, I refused to trade with him a-tall."