tell the
news.

When he was gone Mr. Grayson turned to the major: "Do you really know
this Boyer, Fetridge? Could you find him if he was wanted?"

Sam did not answer immediately. He was looking thoughtfully at the
ground, his palms resting on his knees. He too supposed that Boyer was
the heir, and the news had driven all the braggadocio and drunken fire
out of him. What a weak imitation of a man he was, any how! Grayson
thought, looking at him curiously, and wondering what had moved the
fellow so strangely. Was it possible that he hoped to marry Calhoun's
little girl if Dave lost this money?

The major got up at last, and put on his hat. "If Peter Boyer is
wanted--that is, if the money is really left to him--I can produce the
man, Grayson," he said, and walked slowly away, his head bent and his
hands clasped behind him. The stagey strut was quite gone.

* * * * *

The day after the judge was buried Mr. Calhoun came down in the buggy
from the farm to Sevier, Isabel driving. "I have a new mule in harness,"
he explained to the squire, "and I had to bring Bel to manage him. It's
bad training to use the whip, and he has the temper of the devil. He's
beyond me, but Bel has her ways of making him go."

The old squire, looking up at her, his hat in his hand, said gallantly
there was nothing in Sevier which Miss Isabel couldn't make go; at which
the little girl laughed, and put her foot in his offered hand to jump
down from the buggy. There did not seem to be a large amount of
propelling power in her. She had a childish-looking figure, and went
shyly into the store, blushing nervously as she passed the men outside.
They all stood up and took off their hats, though they did that when any
woman passed; but one after another, from Colonel Grayson to old Primus,
contrived afterward to throw himself in her way, to give her a good-day
respectfully, and have a private glimpse of the beaming face under the
broad-brimmed brown hat. As soon, too, as it was noised about that
Calhoun's wagon was in town the women all came out to find Isabel.
Sevier was dismal enough after the funeral, and needed heartening, and,
as Byloe said, "That young woman hed spirit enough for all Haywood
county." Isabel was an intimate friend of every woman in town. Sue
Grayson hurried her in to read her last love-letter, and Mother Byloe
consulted her about her cherry jam. It was a pity, they thought, that
she had no beauty--th