in the cities of two hemispheres, and, since sincere painting had been his pole-star, he had gone where his art's wanderlust beckoned. His most famous canvas, perhaps, was his

t, as he had caught in his mountain sketches, the broad spirit of the thing. To paint that canvas, he had endured days of racking camel -travel and burning heat and thirst. He had followed the lure of transitory beauty to remote sections of the world. The present trip was only o

ardly offer him the necessities of life, yet the

n gold through a rich pattern. Lescott could not but think of some fine old growth gone to seed and

that first Sally, in the stateliness of panniered brocades and powdered hair, may have tripped a measure to the harpsichord or spinet. Certain it is she trod with no more untrammeled grace than her wild descendant. For the nation's most untamed and untaught fragment

son, however, shared his quarters in order to perform any service that an injured man might require. It had been a full and unusual day for the painter, and its incidents crowded in on him in retrospect and drove off the possibility of sleep. Samson

eccentricities bordering on the abnormal; frailties to be passed over with charity, as one would pass over the infirmities of an afflicted child. To Samson they looked as to a sort of feud Messiah. His destiny was stern, and held no place for dreams. For him, they could see only danger in an insatiable hunger for l

g weak, of forgetting his destiny, he had courted trouble, and sought combat. He was too close to his people's point of view for perspective. He shared their idea that the thinking man weakens himself as a fighting man. He had never heard of a Cyrano de Bergerac, or an Aramis. Now

old daughter. The daughter was Sally. At sixteen, the woman's figure had been as pliantly slim, her step as light as was her daughter's now. At forty, she was withered. Her face was hard, and her lips had forgotten how to smile. Her shoulders sagged, and she was an old woman, who smoked her pipe, a

satisfied grunts. A noisy rooster cocked his head inquiringly sidewise before the open door, and, hopping up to the sill, invaded the main room. A towsled -headed boy made his way to t

own image in the water. Her grave lips broke into a smile, as the reflected face, framed

accosted her picture-self. "How a

e spring joined the creek, and delightedly watched the schools of tiny, almost transparent, minnows that darted away at her coming. Then, standing on a rock, she paused with her head bent, and listened until her ears caught the fain

the backbone of the ridge. This point of vantage commanded the other valley. From its edge, a white oak, dwarfed, but patriarchal, leaned out over an abrupt drop. No more sweeping or splendid view could be had within miles, but it was not for any reason so general that Sally had made her pilgrimage. Down below, across the treetops, were a roof and a chimney fro

Samson

e her eyes grew religiously and softly deep, then, turning, s

ed within easy call. Only young Tamarack Spicer, a raw-boned nephew, wore a sullen face, and made a great show of cleaning his rifle and pistol. He even went out in the morning, and practised at target -shooting, and Lescott, who was still very pale and weak, but able to wander about

offen nobody," he su

es me my hal

anced, Samson, too, with his rifle on his arm, strolled toward the stile.

e ye a-

fur," was the non-

st fer a spell." The old man made the suggestion

goin' ter be

f rock. As he came over the edge from one side, his bare feet making no sound, he saw Sally sitting there, with her hands resting on the moss and her eyes deeply troubled. She was gazing fixedly ahead, and her lips were tremb

as saying, "we don't

s'll 'spicion him, an'

' straight up hyar fro

hyar again

one hand, he roughly seized his cous

d. "What damn fool stu

ll

on's face was set and wrathful. Tamarack's was surly and snarlin

he younger man in the quiet of cold anger,

know, hit all prett

s fists, and took a step forward. "Ef ye opens yor

pt to his left arm-pit. Outwardly he seemed weaponless, but Samson knew th

r, Tam'rack?" he inquired, h

my bus

t out yeself, afore I th

pointed off down the path. Slowly and with incoherent muttering, Spicer took himself away. Then only did

, come ter my house. I kin hide ye out. Why d

ed her. He spoke awkwardly, for he had been trained

hen, with a short sob, threw her arms arou

brokenly, "hit'll jest kill me. I couldn't liv

r bent head, and his lips twitched. He drew his features into a scowl, because that w

aid, "I couldn't live w

a fashion that gave the bloodhounds a hundred baffling difficulties. Often, their noses lost the trail, which had at first been so surely taken. Often, they

ty halted for a moment's rest, and, as the bottle was passed, the man from Lexi

ou call th

s Mis

n Misery that-er-tha

lmans l

ttled with Souths

d up. He knew what the

ll

South, who might hav

no partic'lar grudge,

He's a

ves th

n was speaking. Then he added: "I've done been told that Samso

pipe, and poured a drink of

"These dogs haven't any prejudice in the matter

alted again. The master of

toward Samson South'

it now, an' we hain't never v

e apt to giv

llman

of no South submittin'

s, and loosened their holster- flap