he oughter be a-diggin' for his
livin'. They'll addle 'im thereckly."

"Well," said Woodward, with an air of determination, "I'm going back
with you and hear what Miss Sis has to say. Sit down. Didn't you say
you wanted to see me on business?"

"I did start out wi' that idee," said Teague, slipping into a chair and
smiling curiously, "but I disremember mostly what 'twuz about.
Ever'thing is been a-pesterin' me lately, an' a man that's hard-headed
an' long-legged picks up all sorts er foolish notions. I wish you'd
take keer this pickle-bottle, Cap," he continued, drawing a revolver
from his coat-tail pocket and placing it on the table. "I uv bin afeard
ever sence I started out that the blamed thing 'ud go off an' far my
jacket wrong-sud-outerds. Gimme a gun, an' you'll gener'lly fin' me
somewheres aroun'; but them ar cliokety-cluckers is got mos' too many
holes in 'em for to suit my eyesight."

Usually, it is a far cry from Atlanta to Hog Mountain, but Teague
Poteet and Woodward lacked the disposition of loiterers. They shortened
the distance considerably by striking through the country, the old
mountaineer remarking that if the big road would take care of itself he
would try and take care of himself.

They reached Poteet's one afternoon, creating a great stir among the
dogs and geese that were sunning themselves outside the yard. Sis had
evidently seen them coming, and was in a measure prepared; but she
blushed painfully when Woodward took her hand, and she ran into her
father's arms with a little hysterical sob.

"Sis didn't know a blessed word 'bout my gwine off to Atlanty," said
Teague awkwardly but gleefully. "Did you, honey?"

Sis looked from one to the other for an explanation. Woodward was
smiling the broad, unembarrassed smile of the typical American lover,
and Teague was laughing. Suddenly it occurred to her that her father,
divining her secret--her sweet, her bitter, her well-guarded secret--
had sought Woodward out and begged him to return. The thought filled
her with such shame and indignation as only a woman can experience. She
seized Teague by the arm--

"Pap, have you been to Atlanta?"

"Yes, honey, an' I made 'as'e to come back."

"Oh, how could you? How _dare_ you do such a thing!" she exclaimed
passionately. "I will never forgive you as long as I live--never!"

"Why, honey----"

But she was gone, and neither Teague nor her mother could get a word of
explanation from her. Teague coaxed, an