Two miles farther up that same road a little log cabin stood back from the road about fifty feet behind its weather-beaten picket fence. The little yard, like most of the yards in that section of the country, was perfectly bare, and at first glance it seemed to be deserted. But if a member of the Wait settlement had tried to enter the yard, he would instantly have been aware of a very real presence.

Seated on the doorstep of the cabin, and so motionless that he might have been a part of it, was a man clad in a black sateen shirt and homespun trousers tucked into heavy Congress boots. Judging from the silvery whiteness of his hair he might have been eighty-five, but from the strong, stern lines of his thin, smooth-shaven face he might have been forty-five. There was no sign of nervousness. Not a finger moved and his eyes rested unwaveringly on a small clearing half a mile down the mountain where he could catch a glimpse of the road to the village.

A white flag waved for an instant in the clearing and the lines of his face relaxed. The sternness had given way to an expression of anticipation. The man’s eyes shifted from the clearing to the bend in the road just below the cabin. Other than that there was no movement. It would have taken a careful student to have discovered that an all-consuming curiosity was gnawing at this man’s heart. He seemed to be without a care in the world. Certainly no one could have guessed that he was suffering from a suspense which was almost unbearable.

Suddenly a slip of a girl, not more than thirteen years old, and small for her age, came running around the bend in the road. The brown of her sunburned legs twinkled in the patches of sunlight that came through the trees, and her blue-checked calico dress fluttered in the wind as she ran with unfaltering stride. It was not an impatient burst of speed at the end of a journey. She had been running steadily all the way from the village, almost two and a half miles away and nearly a thousand feet below.

At the sight of her the man arose and stretched his gaunt form to its full height. The coming of the child meant much to him, but he showed no sign of curiosity. She stopped before him with chest heaving and dark eyes aflame.

He went to Wait’s, she panted.

The lines in the old man’s face tightened, and he seemed to grow taller, but he made no answer.

That was the man who came yesterday, she continued furiously. He bought a sack of tobacco at Wait’s this morning, and went up on the other mountain. The other one who came this morning didn’t go in nowhere. He ain’t much more than a boy.

Where is he? the man asked sternly. At the hotel?

No, he went there, but he only stayed a few minutes. Then he walked right through the village and started up this way. I passed him just out on the road.

Did he see you?

No, she answered contemptuously. I was in the brush, but he would not have seen me if I had run right by him. He was looking at the ground and frowning.

The man turned the news slowly over in his mind before he answered.

So the new supervisor is a young lad, is he?

She nodded.

And he did not go in anywhere, the man continued meditatively. What sort of looking man is he?

He’s two inches shorter than you are, grandpa, but he is heavy and strong, she said confidently, with the air of one who is accustomed to gauge the physical builds of men. He’s wearing one of them uniforms, and he’s dark and good looking.

He gave the girl a quick, searching glance. Well, don’t make friends with him yet, Vic. He has not gone into Wait’s, but he has not been in our store either. Let’s wait till we see what he is going to do.

Me make friends with one of those government men, she burst out contemptuously. They all of them side with the Waits. I’d spit in his face if he spoke to me.

Her grandfather smiled approvingly. Oh, I would not do that, Vic, not till he gives you some reason to. This one may turn out to be all right.

Then let him keep away from the Waits, if I have to be polite to him, she snapped.

The old man took the girl tenderly by the shoulders, and looked at her earnestly. You’re the best Morgan in the bunch, Vic, and we’ll have to stick together. The boys may stick by me, but they would give the whole thing up if they saw a good way out. You and old Jarred are the only ones left to uphold the honor of the family.

The child shook the mass of black hair back from her face, and looked squarely into the old man’s eyes. The concentrated hatred and fury of three generations gave her the appearance of a witch. Don’t you worry, grandpa. Let daddy and uncle Bob give up if they want to, but no Wait will ever cross the line while I am here to help you.

Her grandfather patted her head proudly. That’s the girl. I knew I could count on you, Vic. Now go in the house, and get some lunch. Then we’ll go down to the village again. I want to get a look at that handsome young man myself.

Vic glared at him angrily. I had to say that to tell you what he looked like. Let him go into the Wait’s store, and I’ll show you what I think of his looks. She tossed her head defiantly and stalked into the house with great dignity.

The old man watched her go with a twinkle of pride in his eye and smiled affectionately. Then he turned away and looked sadly down into the valley. These were indeed sad times when the honor of the Morgans rested on a girl of thirteen, and an old man past sixty, but his gaunt frame straightened unconsciously at the thought, and his chin set all the harder. If the Waits thought that they could walk over him because he was old they were surely reckoning without their host.