Early one morning Hoke Belew put his head in at the door of Thryng's cabin, where Aunt Sally was squatted before the fireplace, preparing breakfast for the patient.
"How's doc?" he asked.
"He's right fa'r. He mount be worse an' he mount be bettah."
"You reckon I mount go in yandah whar he is at?"
"Ye can look an' see is he awake. I'm gittin' his hot bread an' coffee. You bettah bide an' have a leetle," she said, with ever ready hospitality.
He crossed the floor with careful steps and paused in the doorway of the canvas room, big and smiling.
"That you, Hoke? Come in," said David, cheerfully. He extended a hand which Hoke took in his and held awkwardly, shocked at the white face before him.
"Ye do look puny," he said at last. "But we-uns sure be glad yer livin'. Ye tol' me to come early, so I come."
"It's awfully good of you. Bring a chair and sit near, so we