ve her unwonted
gentleness. She felt that she had been too quick to suspect. Since
Ben's report of the reconnoitring interview on which she had sent him
in Con Hite's interest, she had dismissed the idea that Selwyn was in
aught concerned with the traveler's sudden and violent death; and she
did not incline easily to the substituted suspicion that the dead man
was a "revenuer," and that Selwyn had written to him to recommend the
investigation of Con Hite, whose implication in moonshining he had
some cause to divine.

Narcissa had marked with displeasure Ben's surly manner to the valley
man, connecting it with these considerations, and never dreaming that
it was her acquaintance which her brother grudged the stranger.

"I ought never ter hev set Ben after him," she thought ruefully.
"He'll hang on ter him like a bulldog." But aloud she only said, "You
kin make the money all the same."

"Oh, I'll try, like a little man!" he exclaimed, rousing himself to
renewed hope. "I have written to another scientific fellow, and he
has promised to come and investigate. I hope to Heaven he won't break
his neck, too."

She also marked the word "investigate," which had so smitten Ben's
attention, and marveled what matter it might be in the mountains worth
investigating, and promissory of gain, if not the still-hunt, as it
were, of the wily moonshiners. But yet her faith in Selwyn's motives
and good will, so suddenly adopted, held fast.

"Con Hite mus' l'arn ter look out fur hisse'f," she thought fretfully,
for she could not discern into what disastrous swirl she might be
guiding events as she took the helm. "He's big enough, the Lord
knows."

The little log cabin on the slope of the ascent had come into sight.
They had followed but slowly; the horses were already tethered to
the rails of the fence, and the jury of view and its escort had
disappeared within. A very spirited fracas was in progress between the
visiting dogs and the inhospitable home canines, and once Ben appeared
in the passageway and hoarsely called his hounds off.

"I ain't a-goin' ter hurry," Narcissa remarked cavalierly. "Let
Ben an' aunt Minervy dish up an' wait on 'em. They won't miss me.
Thar's nuthin' in this worl' a gormandizin' man kin miss at
meal-times,--'ceptin' teeth."

Selwyn made no comment on this touch of reprisal in Narcissa's manner.
If old Persimmon Sneed had deemed her coming forth to meet them
superfluous, she in her own good judgment could