She waited for a moment for him to
speak, but he only looked at her questioningly, having almost steeled
his heart against her.
"I come to warn you," she began, awkwardly, her eyes raised to his.
"Toot Wambush has prejudiced the Whitecaps against you. He has
convinced them that you reported the moonshiners. They are coming
to-night to take you out. The others don't mean to kill you; they say
it's just to whip you, and tar and feather you, and drive you out of
the place, but he--Toot Wambush--will kill you if he can. He would not
let you get away alive. He has promised the others not to use
violence, but he will; he hates you, and he wants revenge. He'll do it
and make the others share the responsibility with him--that's his plan."
He put his hand on the bellows-pole; the great leather bag rattled and
gasped, and a puff of ashes rose from the forge.
"How do you happen to know this?" he asked, coldly. She shrank from
him, and stared at him in silence.
"How do you know it?" he repeated, his tone growing fierce.
She drew the shawl with which she had covered her head more closely
about her shoulders.
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