“They have forgotten me,” said Westerfelt, with a laugh, as the dogs retreated behind the house, and he reached over the ramshackle gate to shake hands.

“But I hain’t, John,” she replied, cordially.  “I wasn’t lookin’ fer you quite so soon, though.  I reckon you must ‘a’ rid purty peert.”

“Generally do,” he made answer, “though I started early this morning, and lost half an hour at Long’s shop, where I got my horse shod.”

“Put up yore animal,” she said.  “That’s the stable thar, an’ you know better how to feed ’im ’an I do.  Luke’s gone down to the livery-stable to look atter things fer you, but he’ll be back ’fore supper-time.”

Westerfelt led his horse into the yard, and to the well near the door.

He pushed the bucket into the opening, and allowed the wooden windlass to fly round of its own accord till the bucket struck the water.

“Thirsty?” she asked.  “I’ll git the gourd.”

He nodded.  “And I want to water my horse; every branch and creek is bridged for the last ten miles.”

While she was in the house he wound up the bucket, swearing at the horse for continually touching an inquisitive nose to his moving elbow.  She returned with a great gourd dipper.  He rinsed it out, and, filling it, drank long and deeply.  Then he refilled the gourd and offered it to her.

“I beg your pardon,” he said.  “I forgot my politeness.”

“I ain’t dry,” she said.  “I was jest a-lookin’ at you, John; you look so much older an’ different-like.”

“Oh, I reckon I’m all right,” he said.  “How’s Luke?” emptying the bucket into the trough and watching the horse drink.

“As well as common; me an’ him wus both bound fer you to git the livery-stable, an’ we are glad the trade’s closed.  It will seem like ol’ times to have a body from Fannin over heer.  As soon as you writ the price you wus willin’ to give in a lumpin’ sum, Luke set to scheming.  He ain’t no fool, if I do say it.  Horton an’ Webb had the’r eyes on the stable, an’ Luke thinks they’d a-raised his bid, but they ‘lowed he wus biddin’ fur himself, an’ knowed he couldn’t raise the money.  Mis’ Thorp wus in heer this mornin’, an’ she said Jasper Webb swore like rips when the administrator tol’ ’im the trade wus closed with Luke as yore agent.  You orter do well with the investment; you got it cheap; you know how to keep up stock, an’ the hack-line will pay with the mail it carries an’ the passenger travel twixt heer an’ Darley.”

“I’m satisfied,” he said, and he took the saddle and bridle from his horse and turned the animal into the little log stable.

“Hain’t you goin’ to feed ’im?” she asked, hospitably, as he was closing the door; “the’s some fodder overhead, an’ the corn is in re’ch through the crack above the trough.”

“Not yet,” he returned; “I fed him some shelled corn at the shop.  I’ll give him a few ears at supper-time.”