s his helplessness that was making
him writhe now.

Old Judd had often said he meant to leave the mountains--why didn't he
go now and take June for whose safety his heart was always in his mouth?
As an officer, he was now helpless where he was; and if he went away
he could give no personal aid--he would not even know what was
happening--and he had promised Budd to go. An open letter was clutched
in his hand, and again he read it. His coal company had accepted his
last proposition. They would take his stock--worthless as they thought
it--and surrender the cabin and two hundred acres of field and woodland
in Lonesome Cove. That much at least would be intact, but if he failed
in his last project now, it would be subject to judgments against him
that were sure to come. So there was one thing more to do for June
before he left for the final effort in England--to give back her home to
her--and as he rose to do it now, somebody shouted at his gate:

"Hello!" Hale stopped short at the head of the steps, his right hand
shot like a shaft of light to the butt of his pistol, stayed there--and
he stood astounded. It was Dave Tolliver on horseback, and Dave's right
hand had kept hold of his bridle-reins.

"Hold on!" he said, lifting the other with a wide gesture of peace. "I
want to talk with you a bit." Still Hale watched him closely as he swung
from his horse.

"Come in--won't you?" The mountaineer hitched his horse and slouched
within the gate.

"Have a seat." Dave dropped to the steps.

"I'll set here," he said, and there was an embarrassed silence for a
while between the two. Hale studied young Dave's face from narrowed
eyes. He knew all the threats the Tolliver had made against him, the
bitter enmity that he felt, and that it would last until one or the
other was dead. This was a queer move. The mountaineer took off his
slouched hat and ran one hand through his thick black hair.

"I reckon you've heard as how all our folks air sellin' out over the
mountains."

"No," said Hale quickly.

"Well, they air, an' all of 'em are going West--Uncle Judd, Loretty and
June, and all our kinfolks. You didn't know that?"

"No," repeated Hale.

"Well, they hain't closed all the trades yit," he said, "an' they mought
not go mebbe afore spring. The Falins say they air done now. Uncle Judd
don't believe 'em, but I do, an' I'm thinkin' I won't go. I've got a
leetle money, an' I want to know if I can't buy back Uncle Judd's house
an'