romise you once put before me, Phin!" he cried
out, as if secretly fearing that harm might fall upon the head of his
venturesome boy, because of his braving the moonshiner's wrath by
searching out the secret Still.

"Hit's too late fur thet, Mistah Quail!" declared the other grimly.

"But surely you wouldn't think of changing your mind now?" said the
prisoner.

"Thet's jest what I done, suh," answered Phin. "Polly, I'se noticin' as
how yuh brung them byes up hyah tuh the old Still. Reckons as how yuh
never'd dared do thet same on'y foh what's cum ter pass."

"Reckons as how I wudn't, dad," replied the girl; who, somehow, did not
seem to display any particular fear of the stern parent, such as might
have been expected under the circumstances.

"Are you going to let me go free, Phin Dady?" demanded the prisoner,
hoarsely.

For answer the moonshiner stepped forward, and with a key he produced,
released the iron that had been fastened about the ankle of the one-time
revenue marshal.

"I give you the promise you wanted, Phin, and never will I tell a living
soul where the hiding-place of your Still lies," Mr. Quail declared,
trying to conceal his emotion as a brave man might.

"Thet's good o' ye, Mistah Quail," remarked the other, with one of his
dry chuckles that somehow Thad liked to hear.

"And more than that, Phin," continued the other, earnestly, "I agree
never again to enter these mountains in search of the men who live here,
and who believe they have a right to make this moonshine stuff as they
please, whether the authorities down in Washington let them or not. I've
resigned as a marshal, Phin. You and your friends will never have to
think of me again as an enemy. And I suppose then that the curious
public will never get the sight of this famous Still of yours, that I
boasted they would."

"Thet's whar yuh makes a mistake, suh," said the old man, with a wide
grin. "I reckons now as it's a gwine to be ther trade mark ter be used
on ther bottles. I be'n tole thet it ort ter help make sales, w'en they
knows the new medicine, made outen roots an' yarbs got in ther
mountings, an' wich cures all kinds o' shakes an' chills like magic, is
manufactured in ther same old Still as Phin Dady cooked moonshine stuff
foh nigh on ten hull yeahs."

"What's that?" exclaimed the late prisoner, while Polly laughed softly,
like one who sees a new life opening up before her.

Thad began to see glimpses of light. He remembered