Now, losing his temper was not for Abner a matter of uttering a couple of oaths and of wrapping a hoe handle around a tree.  He lost his temper thoroughly and seemed unable to locate it again for days.  He rampaged.  He roared up and down the valley, inviting one and all to step up and be demolished, which the inhabitants were very reluctant to do, for Abner worked upon his victims with thoroughness and enthusiasm.

When Abner was in his normal humor he was a jovial, noisily jovial young man, who would dance with the girls until the cock tired of crowing; who would give a day’s work to a friend; who performed his civic and religious duties punctiliously, if gayly; who was honest to the fraction of a penny; and who would have been the most popular and admired youth in the valley among the maidens of the valley had it not been for their constant, uneasy fear that he might suddenly turn Berserk.

It was this young man whom Scattergood eyed thoughtfully, and, one might say, apprehensively, for Scattergood liked the youth and feared the germs of disaster that lay quiescent in his powerful body.

Pliny Pickett lounged past, stopped, eyed Scattergood, and seated himself on the step.

“Abner Levens ’s in town,” he said.

“Seen him,” answered Scattergood.

“Calc’late Asa’ll be in?”

“Bein’ ’s it’s Sattidy night, ’most likely he’ll come.”

“Hope Abner’s feelin’ friendly, then,” said Pliny with an anticipatory twinkle in his shrewd little gray eyes which gave direct contradiction to his words.  “If Abner hain’t feelin’ jest cheerful them boys’ll be wrastlin’ all over town and pushin’ down houses.”

“They hain’t never fit yet,” said Scattergood.

“Nor won’t if Asa has the say of it....  He’s full as big as Abner, too.  Otherwise they don’t resemble twins none.”

“Hain’t much brotherly feelin’ betwixt ’em.”

“I hain’t clear as to the rights of the matter,” said Pliny, “but they hain’t nothin’ like a will dispute to make bad blood betwixt relatives....  Asa got the best of that argument, anyhow.  Don’t seem fair, exactly, is my opinion, that Old Man Levens should up and discriminate betwixt them boys like he did—­givin’ Asa a hog’s share.”

“Dunno’s I’d worry sich a heap about that,” said Scattergood, “if they hadn’t both got het up about the same gal.  Looks to me like one or tother of ’em took up with that gal jest to make mischief....  Seems like Abner was settin’ out with her fust.”

“Some says both ways.  I dunno,” said Pliny, impartially.  “Anyhow, Abner he lets on public and constant that he’s a-goin’ to nail Asa’s hide to the barn door....  It’s one good, healthy hate betwixt them boys.”

“And trouble’ll come of it....  Wonder which of ’em Mary Ware favors?  If she favors either of ’em, and trouble comes, it’ll mix her in.”

“Hope Abner gits him.  Better for her, says I, to take up with a man like Ab, that’s a good feller fifty weeks out of the year, and goes on a tear two weeks, than to be married to a cuss like Asa that jest goes along sort of gloomy and still and seekin’.  I hain’t never heard Asa laugh with no real enjoyment into it yet.  He grins and shows his teeth.  He’s too dum quiet, and always acts like a feller that’s afraid you’ll find out what he’s got in mind.”