is fellows, from staying much indoors, with half-haunted face, and
eyes that are deeply pathetic when not cunning; ignorantly credited with
idiocy and uncanny powers; treated with much forbearance, some awe, and
a little contempt; and suffered to do his pleasure-nothing, or much that
is strange-without comment.

"I tell ye, Rome," he said, taking up the thread of talk that was broken
at the cave, "when Uncle Gabe says he's afeard thar's trouble comm',
hit's a-comm'; 'n' I want you to git me a Winchester. I'm a-gittin' big
enough now. I kin shoot might' nigh as good as you, 'n' whut am I fit
fer with this hyeh old pawpaw pop-gun?"

"I don't want you fightin', boy, I've told ye. Y'u air too little 'n'
puny, 'n' I want ye to stay home 'n' take keer o' mam 'n' the cattle-ef
fightin' does come, I reckon thar won't be triuch."

"Don't ye?" cried the boy, with sharp contempt--"with ole Jas Lewallen
a-devilin' Uncle Rufe, 'n' that blackheaded young Jas a-climbin' on
stumps over thar 'cross the river, n' crowin' n' sayin' out open in
Hazlan that ye air afeard o him? Yes; 'n' he called me a idgit." The
boy's voice broke into a whimper of rage.

"Shet up, Isom! Don't you go gittin' mad now. You'll be sick ag'in. I'll
tend to him when the time comes." Rome spoke with rough kindness, but
ugly lines had gathered at his mouth and forehead. The boy's tears came
and went easily. He drew his sleeve across his eyes, and looked up the
river. Beyond the bend, three huge birds rose into the sunlight and
floated toward them. Close at hand, they swerved side-wise.

"They hain't buzzards," he said, standing up, his anger gone; "look at
them straight wings!"

Again the eagles swerved, and two shot across the river. The third
dropped with shut wings to the bare crest of a gaunt old poplar under
them.

"Hit's a young un, Romey," said the boy, excitedly. "He's goin' to wait
thar tell the old uns come back. Gimme that gun!"

Catching up the Winchester, he slipped over the ledge; and Rome leaned
suddenly forward, looking down at the river.

A group of horsemen had ridden around the bend, and were coming at
a walk down the other shore. Every man carried something across his
saddle-bow. There was a gray horse among them--young Jasper's--and an
evil shadow came into Rome's face, and quickly passed. Near a strip of
woods the gray turned up the mountain from the party, and on its back he
saw the red glint of a woman's dress. With a half-smile he