or had misused Jack, or would not let
the two stray off into the woods together, when there was nothing else
to be done. He had stayed longest where he was now, because the old man
and his son and his girl had all taken a great fancy to Jack, and had
let the two guard cattle in the mountains and drive sheep and, if they
stayed out in the woods over night, struck neither a stroke of hand nor
tongue. The old mother had been his mother and, once more, Chad leaned
his head against the worn lintel and wept silently. So far, nobody had
seemed to care particularly who he was, or was not--nor had Chad. Most
people were very kind to him, looking upon him as one of the wandering
waifs that one finds throughout the Cumberland, upon whom the good
folks of the mountains do not visit the father's sin. He knew what he
was thought to be, and it mattered so little, since it made no
discrimination against him, that he had accepted it without question.
It did not matter now, except as it bore on the question as to where he
should start his feet. It was a long time for him to have stayed in one
place, and the roving memories, stirred within him now, took root,
doubtless, in the restless spirit that had led his unknown ancestor
into those mountain wilds after the Revolution.

All this while he had been sitting on the low threshold, with his
elbows in the hollows of his thighs and his left hand across his mouth.
Once more, he meant to be bound to no man's service and, at the final
thought of losing Jack, the liberty loving little tramp spat over his
hand with sharp decision and rose.

Just above him and across the buck antlers over the door, lay a long
flint-lock rifle; a bullet-pouch, a powder-horn, and a small
raccoon-skin haversack hung from one of the prongs: and on them the
boy's eyes rested longingly. Old Nathan, he knew, claimed that the dead
man had owed him money; and he further knew that old Nathan meant to
take all he could lay his hands on in payment: but he climbed
resolutely upon a chair and took the things down, arguing the question,
meanwhile:

"Uncle Jim said once he aimed to give this rifle gun to me. Mebbe he
was foolin', but I don't believe he owed ole Nathan so much, an',
anyways," he muttered grimly, "I reckon Uncle Jim ud kind o' like fer
me to git the better of that ole devil--jes a LEETLE, anyways."

The rifle, he knew, was always loaded, there was not much powder in the
horn and there were not more than a dozen