The Mountain Girl by Emma Payne Erskine Chapter 4 Page 27

‘count fer no ways. When I seed that thar doctah man — I reckon hit war him I seed lyin’ asleep up yander on Hangin’ Rock — a big tall man, right thin an’ white in the face — ” he paused and swallowed as if loath to continue.

“Frale!” she cried, and would have drawn away but that he held her.

“I didn’t hurt him, Cass. I mount hev. I lef’ him lie thar an’ never woke him nor teched him, but — I felt hit here — the badness.” He struck his chest with his fist. “I lef’ thar fast an’ come here. Ever sence I killed Ferd, hit’s be’n follerin’ me that-a-way. I reckon I’m cursed to hell-fire fer hit now, ef they take me er ef they don’t — hit’s all one; hit’s