His own voice seemed to quiet him, and he fell to work again with his mouth set hard.
In half an hour he quitted work, and went up to his house with his hoe over his shoulder like a bayonet.

The house was just as the workmen had left it on the night before his quarrel with Cephas Barnard.

He had himself fitted some glass into the windows of the kitchen and bedroom, and boarded up the others--that was all.

He had purchased a few simple bits of furniture, and set up his miserable bachelor house-keeping.

Barney was no cook, and he could purchase no cooked food in Pembroke.