her young life. I
could even feel much at ease in meeting Ericus Dale. And yet there had
been no day during my absence that I did not think of her, still
idealizing her, and finding her fragrant memory an anodyne when suffering
in the wilderness.

The sun was casting its longest shadows as I inquired for the house and
rode to it. If my heart went pit-a-pat when I dismounted and walked to the
veranda it must have been because of anticipation. As I was about to rap
on the casing of the open door I heard a deep voice exclaim:

"This country's going to the dogs! We need the regulars over here. Using
volunteers weakens a country. Volunteers are too damned independent.
They'll soon get the notion they're running things over here. Put me in
charge of Virginia, and I'd make some changes. I'd begin with Dunmore and
wind up with the backwoodsmen. Neither Whigs nor Tories can save this
country. It's trade we want, trade with the Indians."

I could not hear that any one was answering him, and after a decent
interval I rapped again. At last I heard a slow heavy step approaching
from the cool twilight of the living-room.

"Aye? You have business with me, my man?" demanded Dale, staring into my
face without appearing to recognize me. He had changed none that I could
perceive. Short, square as though chopped out of an oak log. His dark hair
still kinked a bit and suggested great virility. His thick lips were
pursed as of old, and the bushy brows, projecting nearly an inch from the
deep-set eyes, perhaps had a bit more gray in them than they showed three
years back.

"Ericus Dale, you naturally have forgotten me," I began. "I am Basdel
Morris. I knew you and your daughter three years ago in Williamsburg."

"Oh, young Morris, eh? I'm better at remembering Indian faces than white.
Among 'em so much. So you're young Morris, who made a fool of himself
trying to be gentry. Sit down. Turned to forest-running, I should say."
And he advanced to the edge of the veranda and seated himself. He had not
bothered to shake hands.

"I had business with Colonel Lewis and I wished to see you and Patsy
before going back," I explained. I had looked for bluntness in his
greeting, but I had expected to be invited inside the house.

"Pat's out," he mumbled, his keen gaze roaming up and down my forest garb.
"But she'll be back. Morris, you don't seem to have made much of a hit at
prosperity since coming out this way."

"I'm dependent only on myself,