and somewhere in his subconsciousness a voice
whispered that this day, this hour, marked the beginning of his mortal
race. He comprehended a certain vague significance to which analysis was
denied.

Then slowly dismounting he led the mare deep into an opposite thicket.
There was no necessity for doing this, no reason, except the latent
sense of caution a wild creature feels in strange places; and, having
concealed his rifle beneath a fallen log, he turned back to the road.
But now he hesitated, putting one hand against a tree for support. A
close observer might have seen that his body was swaying slightly from
side to side with a curious movement, not unlike the restive motion of a
caged beast; and a glance at his face would have confirmed the
existence of some overwhelming emotion. In a deep, drawling voice, he
spoke:

"Wall, Ruth, I reckon hyar hit air, 'cause hit looks jest like the
preacher said! Now help my arms ter keep hit with me, 'n' pray the Lawd
ter make my haid larn all the larnin' hit's got shet up in thar! 'N'
tell Him ter give my eyes the fu'st sight of ary danged skunk that'll
try ter crowd me outen hit, so's I kin kill 'im till he rots in hell;
'n' I'll be the Christian ye asked me ter!"

A gentle, almost a childish smile of satisfaction played across his
mouth, and the next moment he was walking forward, carefully and
reverently, as though the little schoolhouse were on holy ground.

The afternoon was waning, and the declining sun cast a genial glow upon
the weatherboarded front; gilding, too, the near side of a crooked
flag-pole set jauntily in the yard. Except for evidences of recent life
the place seemed utterly deserted, and emboldened, even though
disappointed by this, he went up to the door. Here again he hesitated,
for some one within was speaking. It was a woman's voice, raised in
command and fear.

CHAPTER II

AN UNEXPECTED RESCUE

"You may go home now," she was saying. There was a pause which carried
no sign or sound of movement. "You may go home, don't you understand?"

It was a voice that to the listening mountaineer seemed inexpressibly
sweet and caressing, in spite of the determination which made it a bit
unsteady. Still no answer. The silence was becoming unnatural.

"Tusk," she said again, "don't stand before me like this! Go home!"

Not knowing exactly what to do, but in a vague way feeling that he might
be needed, the stranger stepped cautiously to the door and pee