"She went out to hunt him, and left early for fear you'd stop her."
"Yes, sir, that's what she did."
"She picked a fuss with him, thinkin' she could kill him and stop him from hurtin' you."
"She did just that, Uncle Boley, God bless her little heart!"
Uncle Boley got up and moved about the shop under the stress of his great emotion. Now and then he shook his head, and he was busy with his handkerchief about his eyes.
"You can't beat 'em, can't beat 'em!" said he. "When they're true, they're above anything that a man can conceive of, and when they ain't, they're hell-fire and mustard! Hell-fire and mustard, Texas, when they ain't."
"Yes, sir, I guess that's so."
"And I said she wasn't a good woman! Lord forgive me—that's what I said about that little Fannie!" He started toward the bedroom door, stopped, turned back. "Did you cover her face up, son?"
"Yes, sir, I covered her pore little face up from the light of this unkind world."
"I'm not fit to," said Uncle Boley, bowing his old white head, "not fit to touch her foot!"
"I suppose there'll be an inquiry into this by the coroner, and I'll be held to answer for my part
