Early in the morning following his trip to North Wilkesboro' Uncle Dick Siddon rode off to Pleasant Valley, there to prosecute his sentimental labors for the pleasuring of the Widow Brown. Alvira fared abroad on some errand to a neighboring cabin. Plutina, her usual richness of coloring dimmed by a troubled night, was left alone. In the mid-forenoon she was sitting on the porch, busy over a pan of beans, which she was stringing for dinner. As she chanced to raise her eyes, she saw Dan Hodges coming up the path. At sight of the evil lowering face, repulsion flared hot in the girl. The instinct of flight was strong, but her good sense forbade it.
She felt a stirring of unfamiliar terror in the presence of the man. She scorned herself for the weakness, but it persisted. Her very fear dictated the counsels of prudence. She believed that in dissimulation lay her only possibility of safety. The thought of any intercourse with the moonshiner was unspeakably repugnant, yet she dared not risk needless offense. Nevertheless, the first effect of her resolve was a self-contempt that moved her to wrath, and made her opening speech more venomous even than it had been otherwise.
"Howdy, my little honey?" Hodges called out as he shambled to a halt before her. His coarse features writhed in a simper that intensified their ugliness. His coveting of this woman was suddenly magnified by sight of her loveliness, flawless in the brilliant light. The blood-shot eyes darted luxuriously over the curving graces beneath the scant homespun garment.
The girl sensed the insult of the man's regard. It, rather than the insolent familiarity of address, provoked her outburst.
"Shet yer mouth, Dan Hodges," she snapped. "I've done told ye afore, ye kain't 'honey' me. If ye wants to pass the time o' day, jest don't fergit as how hit's Miss Plutiny fer you-all."
Hodges gaped bewilderedly under the rebuke. Then he growled defiantly.
"Wall, I'll be dogged! Quite some spit-fire, hain't ye? Reckon I know what's a-bitin on ye. Ye're mad kase Uncle Dick tuk the mounting land ye gals look to heir to, to bail me and Ben." He stared at the girl ominously, with drawn brows. His voice was guttural with threatening. "So be ye mout hev to eat them words o' your'n. Mebby, when I've done tole ye a thing er two, ye'll be a-askin' of me to call ye 'honey.' Mebby, ye'll want to hover yer ole 'hon,' arter I let's ye know a thing or two 'bout the doin's o' you-all an' thet damned little runt, thet reportin' dawg sweetheart o' your'n--Zeke Higgins."