the Old Trail, just where the north slope of Dewey shades into the
rim of the Hollow. The elder man was seated on the ground in the
shade of an oak, with his back against the trunk of the tree,
while the boy lay full length on the soft grass, looking up into
the green depths of foliage where a tiny brown bird flitted from
bough to bough. In his quaint way, Pete was carrying on a
conversation with his little friend in the tree top, translating
freely the while for his less gifted, but deeply interested,
companion on the ground below, when Brave, the shepherd dog, lying
near, interrupted the talk by a short bark. Looking up, they saw
Young Matt riding along the summit of the ridge.

The young man paused when he heard the dog, and caught sight of
the two under the tree; then he came to them, and seated himself
on the grass at Pete's side. He spoke no word of greeting, and the
look on his face was not good to see.

Pete's eyes went wide with fear at the manner of his big friend,
and he drew back as if to run, but when Young Matt, throwing
himself over on the grass, had hidden his face, a half sad, half
knowing look came into the lad's delicate features; reaching forth
a hand, as slim as a girl's, he stroked the shaggy, red brown
head, as he murmured softly, "Poor Matt. Poor Matt. Does it hurt?
Is Matt hurt? It'll be better by-and-by."

The great form on the grass stirred impatiently. The shepherd
spoke no word. Pete continued, stroking the big head, and talking
in low, soothing tones, as one would hush a child, "Pete don't
know what's a hurtin' Young Matt, but it'll be alright, some day.
It'll sure grow over after awhile. Ain't nothing won't grow over
after awhile; 'cause God he says so."

Still the older man was silent. Then the giant burst forth in
curses, and the shepherd spoke, "Don't do that, Grant. It's not
like you, lad. You cannot help your trouble that way."

Young Matt turned over to face his friend; "I know it, Dad;" he
growled defiantly; "but I just got to say somethin'; I ain't
meanin' no disrespect to God 'lmighty, and I reckon He ought to
know it; but--" he broke forth again.

Pete drew back in alarm. "Look your trouble in the face, lad,"
said the shepherd; "don't let it get you down like this."

"Look it in the face!" roared the other. "Good God! that's just
it! ain't I a lookin' it in the face every day? You don't know
about it, Dad. If you did, you--you'd cuss too." He started in
again.

"I kno