seen--and brushing the sweat from his face, he
knelt down:

"God!" he said, simply, "I hain't nothin' but a boy, but I got to ack
like a man now. I'm a-goin' now. I don't believe You keer much and
seems like I bring ever'body bad luck: an' I'm a-goin' to live up hyeh
on the mountain jes' as long as I can. I don't want you to think I'm
a-complainin'--fer I ain't. Only hit does seem sort o' curious that
You'd let me be down hyah--with me a-keerint fer nobody now, an' nobody
a-keerin' fer me. But Thy ways is inscrutable--leastwise, that's whut
the circuit-rider says--an' I ain't got a word more to say--Amen."

Chad rose then and Jack, who had sat perfectly still, with his head
cocked to one side, and his ears straight forward in wonder over this
strange proceeding, sprang into the air, when Chad picked up his gun,
and, with a joyful bark, circled a clump of bushes and sped back,
leaping as high as the little fellow's head and trying to lick his
face--for Jack was a rover, too.

The sun was low when the two waifs turned their backs upon it, and the
blue shadows in valley and ravine were darkening fast. Down the spur
they went swiftly--across the river and up the slope of Pine Mountain.
As they climbed, Chad heard the last faint sound of a cow-bell far
below him and he stopped short, with a lump in his throat that hurt.
Soon darkness fell, and, on the very top, the boy made a fire with his
flint and steel, cooked a little bacon, warmed his corn-pone, munched
them and, wrapping his blanket around him and letting Jack curl into
the hollow of his legs and stomach, turned his face to the kindly stars
and went to sleep.

CHAPTER 2

FIGHTING THEIR WAY

Twice, during the night, Jack roused him by trying to push himself
farther under the blanket and Chad rose to rebuild the fire. The third
time he was awakened by the subtle prescience of dawn and his eyes
opened on a flaming radiance in the east. Again from habit he started
to spring hurriedly to his feet and, again sharply conscious, he lay
down again. There was no wood to cut, no fire to rekindle, no water to
carry from the spring, no cow to milk, no corn to hoe; there was
nothing to do--nothing. Morning after morning, with a day's hard toil
at a man's task before him, what would he not have given, when old Jim
called him, to have stretched his aching little legs down the folds of
the thick feather-bed and slipped back into the delicious rest of sleep
and dreams? Now