But I was not altogether rid of him.

He left a trail of his baleful presence behind him.
"That horrid bull-dog wouldn't let me come into the house! No matter what door I tried, there he was, just foamin' mad.

I let him stay till nearly night, and then went and spoke kind to him; but it was no good.
He'd got an awful spite ag'in me.

I found something to eat down cellar, and I made a fire outside an' roasted some corn and potatoes.

That night I slep' in the barn.