"
"You'd win on that bet, Mr. Hunter," and Westerfelt gave the old man
his hand.
Hunter's shook as with palsy as he grasped and held it. Tears rose in
his eyes. "Lord, Lord A'mighty!" he said, "when I reecolect that the
young chap 'at stood up thar so spunky all by hisse'f last night, in
that moonlight an' sassed all of us to our teeth was Cap. Westerfelt's
boy--by God, I jest want some hound dog to come an' take my place on
God's earth--so I do. I want some able-bodied cornfield nigger to wear
a hickory-withe out on my bare back." Then he dropped Westerfelt's
hand and strode away.
Chapter XV
Westerfelt accepted the urgent invitation of the Bradleys to live in
their house awhile. For the first week his wound gave him pain and his
appetite failed him, which was due as much, perhaps, to mental as
bodily trouble, for Harriet Floyd was on his mind constantly.
Thoroughly disgusted with himself for having in the past treated the
hearts of women lightly, he now drew the rein of honor tightly when he
thought of his position and hers. He told himself he would never go to
see her again till he had made up his mind to forget her love for
Wambush and every rasping fact pertaining to it, and honorably ask her
to be his wife.
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