"Come in, Buck,
an' set a spell. Rest your hat--rest your hat."
It was always Pap's custom to call Shade by the first syllable of his
second name. Buck is a common by-name for boys in the mountains, and it
could not be guessed whether the old man used it as a diminutive of the
surname, or whether he meant merely to nickname this favourite of his.
Shade threw himself on the upper step of the porch and searched in his
pockets for tobacco.
"Room for another boarder?" he asked laconically.
The old man nodded.
"I reckon there's always room, ef it's asked for," he returned. "Hit's
the one way I got to make me a livin', with Louvany dyin' off and Mavity
puny like she is. I have obliged to keep the house full, or we'd see the
bottom of the meal sack."
"All right," agreed Buckheath, rising, and treating the matter as
terminated. "I'll move my things in a-Monday."
"Hold on thar--hold on, young feller," objected Pap, as Shade turned
away. It was against all reasonable mountain precedent to trade so
quickly; but indeed Shade had merely done so with a view to forcing
through what he well knew to be a doubtful proposition.
"I'm a-holding on," he observed gruffly at last, as the other continued
to blink at him with red eyes and say nothing. "What's the matter with
what I said? You told me you had room for another boarder and I named it
that I was comin' to board at your house.
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