iet--but yit--he's frettin'
fer ye so thet hit mought harm him wuss ter deny him."

"I'll aim ter keep him es placid es I kin," said the girl, and in
obedience to her gesture the others left the room.

Then Alexander dropped to her knees and her hands closed tightly over
the thin one that the wounded man thrust weakly up to her. Even now
there was no woman-surrender to tears; only wide eyes agonized with
apprehension while her shoulders shook as a man's may shake with inward
sobs that leave the eyes dry.

In a low voice she made her report. "Ther dam's finished. Without
ther flood overtops ther highest mark on record, them logs is saved."

Old Aaron nodded gratefully and gazed in silence at the rafters
overhead, realizing that he must conserve his slender strength and that
there was much to say. The girl, too, waited until at length he made a
fresh beginning.

"Afore ye came, Alexander, me an' yore maw hed done prayed mighty
fervent fer a man child."

"I knows thet," she interrupted. "I knows hit full well, an' I've
sought deespite how I was borned ter be a man."

"Ye hain't only tried--ye've done succeeded," he assured her, then
after a long drawn breath he went on. "Most folks 'lowed hit was like
faultin' ther Almighty ter feel thet-a-way. They said hit war plum
rebellious."

The girl whose cheeks had gone pallid and whose lips were tight drawn
spoke defiantly. "I reckon we hain't keerin' overly much what other
folks thinks."

"An' yit," the father made slow answer, "what folks agrees ter think
makes ther laws of life whether hit be right or wrong--I'd hev been
willin' ter raise ye up like a gal ef hit hadn't been thet Joe----"

He faltered there with Love's unwillingness to criticise his son and
the girl only nodded, saying nothing.

"Joe's a good boy, with a sweet nature," went on the father at last.
"He favors his maw--an' she was always gentle. Yes, he's a good
boy--an' in a country whar a feller kin live without fightin', I reckon
he'd be accounted smart beyond ther commonality."

Again the mountaineer's face was contorted into a spasm of pain and his
labored breathing demanded a respite of silence. Then slowly he
declared with the unvarnished candor of the backwoods: "Joe's got all a
man needs--but--jest--guts!"

The kneeling figure reluctantly nodded her assent. These admissions as
to one's nearest and dearest must at times be made between men who face
facts.

"Ef I passes out, I w