knees impatiently and her little face grew sullen. Hale
smiled inwardly, for he thought he could already see the lay of the
land, and he wondered that, at such an age, such fierceness could be: so
every now and then he looked at the boy, and every time he looked, the
black eyes were on him. The mountain youth must have been almost six
feet tall, young as he was, and while he was lanky in limb he was well
knit. His jean trousers were stuffed in the top of his boots and were
tight over his knees which were well-moulded, and that is rare with a
mountaineer. A loop of black hair curved over his forehead, down almost
to his left eye. His nose was straight and almost delicate and his mouth
was small, but extraordinarily resolute. Somewhere he had seen that face
before, and he turned suddenly, but he did not startle the lad with his
abruptness, nor make him turn his gaze.

"Why, haven't I--?" he said. And then he suddenly remembered. He had
seen that boy not long since on the other side of the mountains, riding
his horse at a gallop down the county road with his reins in his teeth,
and shooting a pistol alternately at the sun and the earth with either
hand. Perhaps it was as well not to recall the incident. He turned to
the old mountaineer.

"Do you mean to tell me that a man can't go through these mountains
without telling everybody who asks him what his name is?"

The effect of his question was singular. The old man spat into the fire
and put his hand to his beard. The boy crossed his legs suddenly and
shoved his muscular fingers deep into his pockets. The figure shifted
position on the bed and the infant at the foot of it seemed to
clench his toy-dagger a little more tightly. Only the little girl
was motionless--she still looked at him, unwinking. What sort of wild
animals had he fallen among?

"No, he can't--an' keep healthy." The giant spoke shortly.

"Why not?"

"Well, if a man hain't up to some devilment, what reason's he got fer
not tellin' his name?"

"That's his business."

"Tain't over hyeh. Hit's mine. Ef a man don't want to tell his name over
hyeh, he's a spy or a raider or a officer looking fer somebody or," he
added carelessly, but with a quick covert look at his visitor--"he's got
some kind o' business that he don't want nobody to know about."

"Well, I came over here--just to--well, I hardly know why I did come."

"Jess so," said the old man dryly. "An' if ye ain't looking fer trouble,
you'd bette