“The trap, eh?  What about that?” With this Truedale turned about again, for Jim, having finished his work on the gun, had placed the weapon on its pegs on the wall and had drawn near the fire.  He ran his hand through his crisp, gray hair until it stood on end and gave him a peculiarly bristling appearance.  He was about to enjoy himself.  He was as keen for gossip as any cabin woman of the hills, but Jim was an artist about sharing his knowledge.  However, once he decided to share, he shared royally.

“I’ve been kinder waitin’ fur yo’ to show some interest in us-all,” he began, “it’s a plain sign of yo’ gettin’ on.  I writ the same to old Doc McPherson yesterday!  ‘When he takes to noticin’,’ I writ, ’he’s on the mend.’”

Conning laughed good naturedly.  “Oh!  I’m on the mend, all right,” he said.

“Now as to that trap business,” Jim took up the story, “I’ll have to go back some and tell yo’ about the Greysons and Jed Martin—­they all be linked like sassages.  Pete Greyson lives up to Lone Dome.  Pete came from stock; he ain’t trash by a long come, but he can act like it!  Pete’s forbears drank wine and talked like lords; Pete has ter rely on mountain dew and that accounts fur the difference in his goin’s-on; but once he’s sober, he’s quality—­is Pete.  Pete’s got two darters—­Marg an’ Nella-Rose.  Old Doc McPherson use’ ter call ’em types, whatever that means.  Marg is a type, sure and sartin, but Nella-Rose is a little no-count—­that’s what I say.  But blame it all, it’s Nella-Rose as has set the mountains goin’, so far as I can see.  Fellers come courtin’ Marg and they just slip through her fingers an’ Nella-Rose gets ’em.  She don’t want ’em ’cept to play with and torment Marg.  Gawd! how them two gals do get each other edgy.  Round about Lone Dome they call Nella-Rose the doney-gal—­that meaning ‘sweetheart’; she’s responsible for more trouble than a b’ar with a sore head, or Burke Lawson on a tear.”

Conning was becoming vitally interested and showed it, to Jim’s delight; this was a dangerous state for White, he was likely, once started and flattered, to tell more than was prudent.

“Jed Martin”—­Jim gave a chuckle—­“has been tossed between them two gals like a hot corn pone.  He’d take Nella-Rose quick enough if she’d have him, but barrin’ her, he hangs to Marg so as ter be nigh Nella-Rose in any case.  And right here Burke Lawson figgers.  Burke’s got two naturs, same as old Satan.  Marg can play on one and get him plumb riled up to anythin’; Nella-Rose can twist him around her finger and make him act like the Second Coming.”

Conning called a halt.  “What’s the Second Coming?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Meaning?—­good as a Bible character,” Jim explained huffily.  “Gawd, man! do your own thinkin’.  I can’t talk an’ splanify ter onct.”

“Oh!  I see.  Well, go on, Jim.”