surprising accuracy, and was a past master in knowledge of sheep. By
instinct he was canny at a trade--what mountaineer is not?--and he
astonished the Major with the shrewd deals he made. Authority seemed to
come naturally to him, and the Major swore that he could get more work
out of the "hands" than the overseer himself, who sullenly resented
Chad's interference, but dared not open his lips. Not once did he go to
the Deans', and neither Harry nor Dan came near him. There was little
intercourse between the Major and the General, as well; for, while the
Major could not, under the circumstances, blame the General,
inconsistently, he could not quite forgive him, and the line of polite
coolness between the neighbors was never overstepped. At the end of
July, Chad went to the mountains to see the Turners and Jack and
Melissa. He wore his roughest clothes, put on no airs, and, to all
eyes, save Melissa's, he was the same old Chad. But feminine subtlety
knows no social or geographical lines, and while Melissa knew what had
happened as well as Chad, she never let him see that she knew.
Apparently she was giving open encouragement to Dave Hilton, a tawny
youth from down the river, who was hanging, dog-like, about the house,
and foolish Chad began to let himself dream of Margaret with a light
heart. On the third day before he was to go back to the Bluegrass, a
boy came from over Black Mountain with a message from old Nathan
Cherry. Old Nathan had joined the church, had fallen ill, and, fearing
he was going to die, wanted to see Chad. Chad went over with curious
premonitions that were not in vain, and he came back with a strange
story that he told only to old Joel, under promise that he would never
make it known to Melissa. Then he started for the Bluegrass, going over
Pine Mountain and down through Cumberland Gap. He would come back every
year of his life, he told Melissa and the Turners, but Chad knew he was
bidding a last farewell to the life he had known in the mountains. At
Melissa's wish and old Joel's, he left Jack behind, though he sorely
wanted to take the dog with him. It was little enough for him to do in
return for their kindness, and he could see that Melissa's affection
for Jack was even greater than his own: and how incomparably lonelier
than his life was the life that she must lead! This time Melissa did
not rush to the yard gate when he was gone. She sank slowly where she
stood to the steps of the porch, and there