norant people of the swamp lands he owned, could only have a son of
like character. But if so her disappointment was complete.

"I am glad to meet you, Philip," she said, in a soft, Southern voice,
and with all the refining influences about it that years among these
strange people could not banish. "My son Tony tells me you have been
very kind to him. I only wish I could say I was glad you have come;
but my husband has conceived a most dreadful feeling toward your
father; and I am afraid it will fall heavily upon you. All that I may
do to soften his anger you can count on; but I fear it will not be of
much avail, when once his temper is aroused."

Phil pressed her hand with great pleasure. He saw that despite her
constant association with such demoralizing influences, Mrs. McGee was
still a true Southern gentlewoman. And as a morsel of yeast may leaven
the entire lump of dough, so her presence here in the midst of such
unruly elements might yet prove their salvation.

"Oh! I'm not afraid, ma'am, I promise you," he replied, laughing as he
spoke; although he really did not feel one-half so merry as he made
out; for he could see the baleful eyes of the watching McGee fastened
upon them at that minute, as he stood not far away. "I came here on
purpose to meet McGee. I carry a letter from my father, in which he
asks the assistance of every man in this place to build up a lumber
business here on the river, and market the stuff at top-notch prices.
It would mean money right along for every worker; it would mean that
each family might have a patch of land all their own, as big as they
could work for a garden; and it would mean that from this time on the
women of this place would be able to have the things they should. I am
telling you this, ma'am, so you can carry it to the other women;
because, perhaps in the end, we may have to depend on their influence
to swing the men around. And that is the message my father sends. He
wants to be the friend of you all; and he's coming down here himself to
prove that his letter stands for the truth!"

And as the poor woman saw the brightness of the picture he painted
tears came unbidden into her eyes, and she turned hastily away to hide
her emotion.

CHAPTER XXI

A GLOOMY OUTLOOK

"What can we do, Phil?"

As Larry put this question he looked mournfully at his chum, and tried
to keep from shivering, though it was indeed hard work.

The night had passed. Both boy