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"
I
was
n't
thinking
about
anything
but
going
up
to
bed
,
"
Louis
said
.
"
I
have
a
burying
to
go
to
tomorrow
.
"
"
I
'm
responsible
for
more
pain
in
your
heart
than
you
should
have
tonight
,
"
Jud
said
softly
.
"
For
all
I
know
,
I
may
even
have
been
responsible
for
the
death
of
your
son
.
"
Louis
looked
up
,
startled
.
"
What
--
?
Jud
,
do
n't
talk
crazy
!
"
"
You
are
thinking
of
trying
to
put
him
up
there
,
"
Jud
said
.
"
Do
n't
you
deny
the
thought
has
crossed
your
mind
,
Louis
.
"
Louis
did
not
reply
.
"
How
far
does
its
influence
extend
?
"
Jud
said
.
"
Can
you
tell
me
that
?
No
.
I
ca
n't
answer
that
question
myself
,
and
I
've
lived
my
whole
life
in
this
patch
of
the
world
.
I
know
about
the
Micmacs
,
and
that
place
was
always
considered
to
be
a
kind
of
holy
place
to
them
...
but
not
in
a
good
way
.
Stanny
B.
told
me
that
.
My
father
told
me
too
--
later
on
.
After
Spot
died
the
second
time
.
Now
the
Micmacs
,
the
state
of
Maine
,
and
the
government
of
the
United
States
are
arguing
in
court
about
who
owns
that
land
.
Who
does
own
it
?
No
one
really
knows
,
Louis
.
Not
anymore
.
Different
people
laid
claim
to
it
at
one
time
or
another
,
but
no
claim
ever
stuck
.
Anson
Ludlow
,
the
great-grandson
of
this
town
's
founding
father
,
for
one
.
His
claim
was
maybe
the
best
for
a
white
man
,
since
Joseph
Ludlow
the
Elder
had
the
whole
shebang
as
a
grant
from
Good
King
Georgie
back
when
Maine
was
just
a
big
province
of
the
Massachusetts
Bay
Colony
.
But
even
then
he
would
have
been
in
a
hell
of
a
court
fight
because
there
was
cross-claims
to
the
land
by
other
Ludlows
and
by
a
fellow
named
Peter
Dimmart
,
who
claimed
he
could
prove
pretty
convincingly
that
he
was
a
Ludlow
on
the
other
side
of
the
sheets
.
And
Joseph
Ludlow
the
Elder
was
money-poor
but
land-rich
toward
the
end
of
his
life
,
and
every
now
and
then
he
'd
just
gift
somebody
with
two
or
four
hundred
acres
when
he
got
into
his
cups
.
"
"
Were
none
of
those
deeds
recorded
?
"
Louis
asked
,
fascinated
in
spite
of
himself
.
"
Oh
,
they
were
regular
bears
for
recording
deeds
,
were
our
grandfathers
,
"
Jud
said
,
lighting
a
new
cigarette
from
the
butt
of
the
old
one
.
"
The
original
grant
on
your
land
goes
like
this
.
"
Jud
closed
his
eyes
and
quoted
,
"
From
the
great
old
maple
which
stands
atop
Quinceberry
Ridge
to
the
verge
of
Orrington
Stream
;
thus
runneth
the
tract
from
north
until
south
.
"
Jud
grinned
without
much
humor
.
"
But
the
great
old
maple
fell
down
in
1882
,
let
's
say
,
and
was
rotted
to
moss
by
the
year
1900
,
and
Orrington
Stream
silted
up
and
turned
to
marsh
in
the
ten
years
between
the
end
of
the
Great
War
and
the
crash
of
the
stock
market
.
A
nice
mess
it
made
!
It
ended
up
not
mattering
to
old
Anson
,
anyways
.
He
was
struck
and
killed
by
lightning
in
1921
,
right
up
around
where
that
burying
ground
is
.
"
