Read To Make My Bread for Free Online Page B

She thought for a moment that he was going to fall on her, and drew back, sitting on her heels.
    â€œHal Swain didn’t want to take the money for the meal,” Granpap said. “He said no, and just then Sally came in, and I said, ‘Sally, here’s some money I owe you,’ and she took it. So he’s paid. Even to the uttermost farthing,” Granpap roared out as the preacher sometimes did in church.
    Emma left her search for the precious money. She took Granpap’s arm and led him resolutely to the bed. In a few moments he was asleep, and she was able to find the fifth nickel that had rolled under the water bucket where it stood over a crack.
    The next afternoon Granpap was out with Basil plowing up the ground. Emma had Bonnie and John in front of the cabin, helping to plant gourd seed. Granpap had slept off his drinks. He walked with plenty of assurance as he came around the cabin with Basil. It was almost time for supper.
    â€œKirk back yet?” Granpap asked. No one answered. It was clear that Kirk was not there. He had walked to the blacksmith’s to get a metal ring put on a whittled sapling end for a bull tongue to be used in planting.
    â€œSure enough, then,” Granpap said, and he looked slyly at Emma. “He’s gone to get a look at Minnie.”
    â€œMaybe,” Emma said. And suddenly she left the gourd place and spoke sharply to Bonnie. “Now, Bonnie, you come on in. It’s about time we made supper.”
    As Granpap expected, Kirk came back by the short trail. Along with the bull tongue he brought three horseshoes and an iron rod beaten into a point at one end.
    â€œDid ye see Minnie?” Granpap asked Kirk. John was sitting on the log step of the cabin. He saw that in answer to Granpap’s baiting Kirk only brought the ax down harder on the iron stob he was knocking into the hard ground.
    Basil spoke up. “Did ye see Minnie?” he asked Kirk.
    â€œIf I did it’s none of your worry,” Kirk grunted.
    â€œIf you did it was on the sly,” Basil said. Which was probably true. Even John knew that Minnie Hawkins’ pap kept all the boys off his sixteen-year-old daughter. He would not let them come within rocking distance of the cabin.
    â€œYou’re a liar,” Kirk said. John saw Kirk’s fists clench and the anger in his brother’s voice made the blood run up in his head. It made him want to get up and fight.
    Kirk edged up to Basil. Both the boys had their fists ready. They swayed toward each other like two saplings in a high wind.
    â€œKirk,” Granpap said. At the sound in Granpap’s voice Kirk turned as if a wildcat had jumped on him from behind.
    Granpap was looking toward Thunderhead. Below the high mountain on the second hill a man’s figure stumped down the open trail. Very quietly Granpap sat down on the woodblock and the boys leaned against the cabin. There was a stillness, a quick hush. Even the mountains seemed to be holding back. The dogs lay on the ground inert in the late afternoon sunshine. They had not yet scented the stranger.
    John was still like the others; and like them his muscles were tense. He knew, as they knew, this was no kin or person known coming down to them. Yet Granpap on his woodblock and the boys leaning against the cabin looked quiet and gentle, as if the stranger from the trail had sent down a spell that put them all to sleep.
    The man disappeared behind a hill. As he came over the last rise and down the last slope the low sun shone on him slantwise from the west and made him black against the tree trunks and the hillside. There was no face to be seen, only on the back a large burden that made the legs stump down slowly and carefully along the trail.
    The dogs ran ahead and met the stranger at the spring. Their barking broke the spell. Granpap moved.
    â€œCall the dogs, Kirk,” he said. And Kirk went forward. Before he reached the spring, the stranger had let the