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"Yes—did you insult her?" trembled the old man. "Did you do like all the folks around here—insult her by word or act?"

"Insult her! Insult Nessie!" Amazement filled Abner's voice.

Belshue stared at him. "But she was crying—I saw her—you hurt her somehow!"

Abner studied the gray, angry old man and wondered what would be the best thing to say; the best thing for Nessie. If he simply said Nessie had shown him her baby and wept, that might arouse his jealousy and make the girl's lot harder.

"I—I come up when she was drawin' watter, Mr. Belshue, an' I guess I must uh give her a start, the bucket swung aginst her hand and hurt her. I was mighty sorry. . . ." Abner’s mind always worked in concretes.

Neither the jeweller's anger nor suspicions were allayed.

"Well, I don't know what you did, but, Teeftallow, I tell you for your own safety, as well as my wife's comfort, to go away from here and stay off this place." His voice rose a trifle. "Don’t enter my lands; don’t ever set foot on this plantation again."

Abner reddened at being ordered off the farm. It was the kind of insult in the hills that has caused more homicides than any other one thing.

"All right, Mr. Belshue, I'll git off now—I was jest takin' a nigh cut to the railroad camp, I wasn't expectin' to see your wife, wasn't thinkin' anything about her—but I tell you now, I own this farm, and the time's goin' to come mighty soon when you're goin' to haff to git off yorese'f!"

"When you get possession by law, we'll leave it to you, but don't persecute me and mine till then!"

Abner nodded angrily. "You'll be leavin' soon!" he blustered. "I'll—I'll—" and then at the thought of Nessie, he hesitated, then stammered,

"N-no, Mr. Belshue, I—I won't do that. I'll stay off. I won't give you no more trouble. An', honest, I didn't