id
lines of the blacksmith's face, accented here and there by cinders, nor
the fierceness of the intent dark eyes.

"I reckon I'm powerful welcome!" sneered Stephen Ryder.

The tone attracted "old Bob's" attention. "What ails ye, Steve?" he
asked, surprised.

"I'm a deceivin', sneakin' critter--hey," shouted the visitor, shaking
his big fist; he had intended to be calm, but his long-repressed fury
had found vent at last.

The miller drew back hastily, astonishment and fear mingled in a pallid
paste, as it were, with the flour on his face.

The six startled on-lookers stood as if petrified.

"Ye say I'm a thief!--a thief!--a thief!"

With the odious word Ryder made a frantic lunge at the miller, who
dodged his strong right arm at the moment when his foot struck against a
bag of corn lying on the floor and he stumbled. He recovered his
equilibrium instantly. But the six bystanders had seized him.

"Hold him hard, folkses!" cried honest Bob Peachin. "Hold hard! I'll
tell ye what ails him--though ye mustn't let on ter him--he air teched
in the head!"

He winked at them with a confidential intention as he roared this out,
forgetting in his excitement that mental infirmity does not impair the
sense of hearing. This folly on his part was a salutary thing for
Stephen Ryder. It calmed him instantly. He felt that he had need for
caution. A fearful vista of possibilities opened before him. He
remembered having seen in his childhood a man reputed to be suddenly
bereft of reason, but who he believed was entirely sane, bound hand and
foot, and every word, every groan, every effort to free himself,
accounted the demonstration of a maniac. This fate was imminent for him.
They were seven to one. He trembled as he felt their hands pressing upon
the swelling muscles of his arms. With an abrupt realization of his
great strength, he waited for a momentary relaxation of their clutch,
then with a mighty wrench he burst loose from them, flung himself upon
his mare, and dashed off at full speed.

He did no work that afternoon, although the corn was "suffering." He sat
after dinner smoking his pipe on the porch of his log cabin, while he
moodily watched the big shadow of the mountain creeping silently over
the wooded valley as the sun got on the down grade. Deep glooms began to
lurk among the ravines of the great ridge opposite. The shimmering blue
summits in the distance were purpling. A redbird, alert, crested, and
with a brillian