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"
Ef
ye
're
boun
'
to
stay
then
,
"
rejoined
Zeb
,
relentingly
,
as
if
some
new
thought
was
causing
him
to
consent
,
"
I
wo
n't
interfere
to
say
,
no
.
But
do
n't
you
mind
what
he
'll
be
palaverin
'
about
.
Ye
may
hear
some
queer
talk
out
o
'
him
,
beout
a
man
bein
'
murdered
,
an
the
like
.
That
's
natral
for
any
one
as
is
dulleerious
.
Do
n't
be
skeeart
at
it
.
Beside
,
ye
may
hear
him
talkin
'
a
deal
about
a
woman
,
as
he
's
got
upon
his
mind
.
"
"
A
woman
!
"
"
Jest
so
.
Ye
'll
hear
him
make
mention
o
'
her
name
.
"
"
Her
name
!
Señor
,
what
name
?
"
"
Wal
,
it
air
the
name
o
'
his
sister
,
I
reck
'n
.
Fact
,
I
'm
sure
o
'
it
bein
'
his
sister
.
"
"
Oh
!
Misther
Stump
.
If
yez
be
spakin
'
av
Masther
Maurice
--
"
"
Shut
up
,
ye
durned
fool
!
What
is
'
t
to
you
what
I
'm
speakin
'
beout
?
You
ca
n't
unnerstan
sech
things
.
Kum
along
!
"
he
continued
,
moving
off
,
and
motioning
the
Connemara
man
to
follow
him
.
"
I
want
ye
a
leetle
way
wi
'
me
.
I
killed
a
rattle
as
I
wur
goin
'
up
the
crik
,
an
left
it
thur
.
Kum
you
,
an
toat
it
back
to
the
shanty
hyur
,
lest
some
varmint
may
make
away
wi
'
it
;
an
lest
,
arter
all
,
I
mout
n't
strike
turkey
agin
.
"
"
A
rattle
.
Div
yez
mane
a
rattle-snake
?
"
"
An
'
what
shed
I
mean
?
"
"
Shure
,
Misther
Stump
,
yez
wud
n't
ate
a
snake
