to me long ago, when I tol’ ye not to open that thar still again? You are a heap too young to go that-a-way, — my own kin, like to be hung fer man-killin’.”

“When did Cass come?” he interrupted sullenly.

“Las’ evenin’.”

“I’ll drap ‘round thar this evenin’ er late night, I reckon. I have to get feed fer my own hoss an’ tote hit up er take him back — one. All I fetched up last week he done et.” He turned to walk away, but stood with averted head as she began speaking again.

“Don’t you do no such fool thing. You keep clar o’ thar. Bring the hoss to me, an’ I’ll ride him home. What you want o’ the beast on the mountain, anyhow? Hit’s