_ . .......... .,,-.. : ,..;. .. 
 
 VISITING THE S 
 
 EMMA. 
 
 ii 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OP 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA CRUZ 
 
VISITING THE SIN 
 
By EMMA RAYNER 
 
 FREE TO SERVE $1.50 
 
 SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
 
 IN CASTLE AND COLONY. $1.50 
 HERBERT S. STONE & COMPANY 
 
VISITING THE SIN 
 
 A Tale of Mountain Life in 
 Kentucky and Tennessee 
 
 By 
 
 EMMA RAYNER 
 
 Boston 
 
 Small, Maynard & Company 
 1900 
 
Copyright) /poo, by 
 Small, Maynard & Company 
 
 ( Incorporated} 
 
 Entered at Stationers' Hall 
 
 Press of 
 George H. Ellis, Boston, U.S.A. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 It may possibly happen that some reader of the follow- 
 ing pages may see in the incidents found therein that 
 which to him will appear as evidence of a somewhat free 
 flight of fancy. To such the author would like to ex- 
 plain that, although the plot of the book is entirely ficti- 
 tious, there are but few incidents introduced into the 
 story which are not founded upon real happenings, not 
 necessarily in the actual neighbourhood where the story is 
 located, but within the mountain district of Kentucky 
 and Tennessee. Taken directly from the mouths of old 
 residents, these incidents and traditions have been woven 
 into the thread of the tale ; and whatever of strangeness 
 or unconventionality they may seem to possess must be 
 attributed, not to the teller of the story, but to the wild, 
 untutored life of a people who twenty-five years ago were 
 not quite what they are to-day, when education is pene- 
 trating even into the most remote recesses of the hills, 
 and the stories of long ago are told cautiously and with 
 many a look at the listener to detect the first approach to 
 a smile of ridicule or disbelief. 
 
 The details of the fight before the door of the church 
 were drawn from the lips of a resident of the hamlet 
 where the skirmish occurred, a hamlet where, even 
 to-day, the sheriff deems it wisest to go with words of 
 friendship on his tongue. 
 
 An actual occurrence of like character has been made 
 the foundation for the story of the death of Abner Poteet, 
 some of the details of the dream having been told to the 
 author by an old resident of the mountains who was per- 
 sonally acquainted with the dreamer, and who heard the 
 story from his lips before, in accordance with the warn- 
 ing, he unresistingly yielded ^lp his life. 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 In the particular form in which they are woven into 
 the tale the incidents are to be regarded as purely ficti- 
 tious. Nevertheless, their foundation lies firmly fixed 
 upon fact. 
 
 In the matter of dialect the object has been to keep to 
 the more general form of it heard within thirty miles of 
 the spot where the story is located, allowance being made 
 for changes already produced by education. Dialect 
 varies much in different districts, even within a small 
 radius, and that which may be a fair reproduction of 
 the speech of one neighbourhood would be open to criticism 
 in another. 
 
 BOSTON, 1900. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 CLANG and clamour and click! The tongue of 
 the old bell struck noisily against the metal, and 
 stopped, as if in horror at its own performance. 
 It ought surely to have picked up more music from its 
 surroundings. The leaves above it rustled as in derision 
 of its efforts, and the clear call of a bird put its clamor- 
 ous echoes to shame. The soft chug, chug, of water 
 drawn into a deep hole in the rock, and the melodious 
 chatter of the same agent as it swept along the shallow 
 edge of the stream, made particular notes in the chorus 
 of harmonious sounds that held sway in these Kentucky 
 woods. 
 
 The old bell was out of harmony with its surround- 
 ings. They ought to have put soul even into its 
 cracked metal. Forest kings that had held court in 
 these mountains for centuries shook their leafy crowns 
 in derision at the barbarous efforts of the interloper. 
 The girl whose hand pulled the cord and set the harsh 
 tongue to vibrating was an interloper too ; but she was 
 not out of character with her surroundings. The tall, 
 supple figure, the slow grace of movement, the dark, 
 slumberous eyes, with possibilities no, rather with 
 promise of passion beneath their calm, were in keeping 
 with the hills and the forest. 
 
 The girl and the bell stood at the foot of a high 
 mountain, or, more properly speaking, a cleft made by 
 
2 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 two mountains, that, sweeping together just beyond the 
 spot where the bell hung, left a long, deep valley, little 
 more than a notch in the great, overshadowing hills. A 
 lengthy, low structure built of logs was behind her, and 
 the stream tumbled over boulders and tree-trunks 
 almost at her feet. 
 
 She lifted her eyes for a minute to the mountain 
 opposite, and then raised her hand and set the bell 
 clanging again. In answer to the sound a figure came 
 swinging down the mountain side, and another and 
 another appeared between the trees. With long, easy 
 strides those mountaineers descended the steep face of 
 the hill, never stopping to pick out a path. Their desti- 
 nation was soon proclaimed to be the building before 
 which the girl stood, and they came straight on towards 
 it. Hungry men were not likely to turn aside for an 
 easier route, and the bell had just announced that sup- 
 per awaited them. 
 
 At the same time, from the door of a mill, hidden 
 from the eyes of the girl by a ragged bluff, half a dozen 
 men passed out into the sunlight, and started for the 
 spot towards which the descending figures were con- 
 verging. The mill was well out of sight of the low 
 log building, and of the house that stood by its side. 
 The sister of the mill owner would have it so. 
 
 "I'm not aimin' to live on top of the mill, or of the 
 mill-workers, either if I do board them," she said, with 
 a touch of scorn in her voice. " They're mountain men, 
 all. Ary one of them can stand a five minutes' walk 
 before he eats, or if not, he may go hungry." 
 
 So the logs of the long, low dining-hall were piled one 
 upon another at a convenient distance from the mill, and 
 the house of the mill owner rose near by. It was of 
 logs also, but it was not the usual log house of the 
 Kentucky mountains. This was large, and light, and 
 high, and its chinks were well covered with bark, nailed 
 
VISITING THE SIN 3 
 
 on securely. Inside, the neatly boarded walls showed 
 the grain of the cedar that grew in plenty on the 
 mountains. The plants that blossomed in the windows 
 were not brighter than the room to which they belonged. 
 The dark eyes of the mill owner's sister were sworn 
 foes to dirt and dinginess. 
 
 " I'm powerful glad to hear that bell." 
 
 The first arrival swung himself round the end of the 
 building, and pulled up at the big half -gourd reposing on 
 a smooth section of tree-trunk which measured not less 
 than eight feet across, and did duty as an outside table. 
 
 "Jist in time," he added, glancing over his shoulder 
 at the tall, lean wood-chopper who followed him closely, 
 and taking possession of the gourd and the water it con- 
 tained at the very moment when his companion's hand 
 was stretched out to draw it towards himself. " Not so 
 fast, friend. Hit's he'p yerself in this crowd." 
 
 " You'll do, then, nary one better," responded the 
 other, as he watched the first-comer liberally and lei- 
 surely souse face and hands in the cool water. 
 
 Around the corresponding half of the gourd the rest 
 of the men were crowding, taking deep draughts of the 
 clear spring water with which it was filled to the brim. 
 When all had taken their turn, and the water supply 
 grew low, the men, clean and cool as to faces and hands, 
 filed into the dining-room. 
 
 "Dal back yet?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 The eyes of the girl were turned full on the ques- 
 tioner. The answer, though short, was deliberate, the 
 gaze more so. 
 
 " Powerful slow, hain't he ? " 
 
 "Is it Garl Cox that talks of slowness?" she said, 
 with a curl of her lip and a derisive light in her eyes. 
 " When Garl starts a chopping match with Dal, it'll be 
 a si-ight." 
 
4 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The long drawl upon the last word gave it expression. 
 The man's face reddened as a laugh went round the 
 table at his expense. 
 
 The girl turned away, and her assistant, a stout moun- 
 tain woman, appeared with a huge platter of fried pork. 
 Hungry-looking eyes brightened, and, for the time, 
 tongues had other work to do than to inquire about the 
 mill owner's absence. 
 
 He for whom they had asked was not far away. Fol- 
 lowing the stream that had hewed out a channel for 
 itself down the face of the rock where the two moun- 
 tains met, he had come almost over the little camp be- 
 fore he flung himself down on a decayed tree-trunk. To 
 rest ? Hardly. His attitude had little of restfulness in 
 it. To think, perhaps, or to despair. His face sug- 
 gested the latter inclination. It was the face of a young 
 man, but a disappointed one, ay, and a troubled one. 
 
 " I was a fool," he said, in a low, pained tone, " a fool ! 
 And I always am and always shall be while I trust in 
 good in man or woman." 
 
 His head went down on his hands, and the mountain 
 grew still as if innocent of human occupant. A mis- 
 chievous squirrel presently dropped the shell of a last 
 year's acorn in his hair, but the young man did not look 
 up. A dogwood tree, incited by a saucy breath of wind, 
 flung a spray of its great white bloom sheer in his face, 
 or in that part of it that was not altogether covered by 
 his hands. A lizard crept out of the rotten trunk and 
 scampered over his foot ; and a scorpion came danger- 
 ously near, and then glided away. He saw none of 
 them. What he did see was his own folly and its con- 
 sequences. 
 
 " Fool ! " he said again, after a long silence. " Fool, 
 to trust ary man as fur as that." 
 
 Even those words, harsh as they were, were softened 
 by the Southern drawl till they lost the worst of their 
 
VISITING THE SIN 5 
 
 sting. He might be a fool, and he might know it, 
 but the strident tones that make the word an insult 
 were absent from the voice that uttered the reproach. 
 Southern in tone and Southern in nature was the young 
 man, who at another call from the bell, sounding not 
 unmelodious across the space that separated the mill 
 owner from the mill, lifted his head and looked the 
 world in the face. 
 
 "Fool or not, it will avail nothing to sit here," he 
 said, and rose to his feet. 
 
 Though almost over the camp, a big swell of the 
 mountain lay between. He took the shortest way down 
 it. The choice of route scarcely suggested a strong 
 love of life. The last call of the bell came up to him 
 as he sprang from a huge boulder, and stood again on 
 the edge of the torrent. The sound, unsoftened now 
 by distance, embodied the camp life to which he was 
 returning. He shrank visibly from it, hesitated a 
 moment, and then went on. 
 
 The clatter of knives and forks and the hum of voices 
 came to his ears as he passed the open door of the long 
 dining-hall. He turned his head and looked in, his eyes 
 passing over the row of men seated on either side of the 
 uncovered table, and seeking the figure of the girl who 
 stood at the further end. Her face was turned towards 
 the door, and the look upon it caused his feet to linger, 
 even before he heard her voice. 
 
 "Fill your mouth with victuals, Jim Fletcher, and 
 give your tongue something better to do than to rattle 
 aout the emptiness of your head," it said. "Ary dry 
 gourd can rattle when it's shook, but nary man stops to 
 listen to its clatter. When men want to know the 
 character of the owner of this mill, it's not to Jim 
 Fletcher, nor to any other empty head they'll come to 
 ask." 
 
 There was a chuckle and a laugh down the line as the 
 
6 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 discomfited Jim followed the girl's injunction, and in 
 his confusion conveyed an unusually large lump of pork 
 to the capacious gap behind his lips. 
 
 "Don't be too hard on Jim," remonstrated a burly 
 mountain man who sat near the end of the table at 
 which the girl stood. "Jim hain't the only one that 
 says Dai's been tuk in powerful bad." 
 
 " I never said Jim was the only idiot around," replied 
 the girl, in clear, musical tones, and with a look that 
 sent the eyes of the speaker down on his plate. 
 
 While a loud laugh ran round, a rough, savage-look- 
 ing man dropped his knife, and turned angrily on the 
 speaker. 
 
 " You-all can fix hit abaout as ye like when you open 
 yer mouth," he said; "but hit's we-uns that '11 hev to 
 lose for Dai's foolery." 
 
 The sound of the words travelled up to where the 
 girl stood, and down through the space between the 
 speaker and the door, passing into the warm April air 
 without. It brought the feet of the passer-by to a 
 stand, and almost turned them into the room. His 
 eyes darkened, and then glowed with a light that 
 answered to another just kindled inside, the light that 
 shone dangerously in a girl's eyes. 
 
 " When ary one of you loses a cent by Dalbert Mo- 
 zingo, come to Naomi Mozingo and say so," she said in 
 clear, vibrating tones. "Till then hold your tongue, 
 and let better men speak." 
 
 She disappeared through a door in the rear of the 
 building, and presently returned with a big dish of cob- 
 bler pie held in both hands. Knives and forks sus- 
 pended operations for a minute, and then made a dash 
 at the piled up delicacy. Before ever it reached the 
 table, the load had grown lighter. It came in heaped 
 high as the platter would hold, the rich mellow apple 
 quarters peeping out from the broken, piled up crust. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 7 
 
 " Cobbler ! Cobbler pie here ! " came from all sides ; 
 and great gaps soon showed themselves as fork after 
 fork was thrust into the yielding mass. Not a scrap re- 
 mained on the dish when the men straggled out into the 
 light that was reddening as the sun dipped down. They 
 were rugged, untutored mountaineers, every one of them, 
 fierce looking, too, men whom one would instinctively 
 abstain from angering. 
 
 The girl was left alone. She stood with one hand on 
 the table, staring into the sunset glow beyond. It was 
 not the sunset that was reflected in her eyes. The light 
 without was too peaceful to be responsible for that 
 within. And when the sun dropped suddenly below a 
 mountain peak, and the valley and the lower hillsides 
 were left in shadow, the light in the girl's eyes grew 
 brighter and more threatening. There was no sunset 
 glow to be made responsible now. 
 
 Not until the stout, strong-armed assistant returned 
 to the room did the mill owner's sister arouse herself 
 from that unseeing stare into the lessening brightness 
 without. 
 
 " Gather up the dishes, Texas," she said. " I'm going 
 into the house." 
 
 It was in the living room that she found her brother. 
 
 " Well ? " she said, going up to him, and looking into 
 the face that turned to greet her. 
 
 Her voice had lowered, and the fire had left her eyes. 
 They were soft with sympathy now, as they met those 
 of the young man. She put her hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " George Roach has played you false again," she said, 
 and the words were not a question. 
 
 "Yes. He went to Louisville and got the money 
 before he ran off." 
 
 "All of it?" 
 
 " Every cent." 
 
 They stood looking at each other. 
 
8 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " That comes of having a partner," she said at last. 
 
 "And of trusting him." 
 
 A smile, half scornful, half tender, came to her lips. 
 
 "While Dalbert Mozingo lives, he will trust," she said. 
 
 He drew himself away with a smothered exclamation, 
 then turned and laid his hand on hers. 
 
 " I don't see why I should resent the truth," he said, 
 with bitter humility. " It's not pleasant to be reminded 
 that I'm an idiot, even though I know right well it's no 
 lie." 
 
 "A good-natured fool would be nearer the mark," she 
 said slowly, and her eyes looked into his with a flash 
 that was tender as it was brief. " But the fool must 
 pay for his folly." 
 
 "He's paying dear," he said. 
 
 She noticed the break in his voice. 
 
 "Well we must start afresh," she replied. 
 
 He looked at her sharply. 
 
 " How ? We're six weeks behind with the men." 
 
 " There's the money for the stuff that went aout last 
 week. Roach didn't get that," she ventured. 
 
 The gloom on his face deepened. 
 
 "That's not mine," he answered shortly. "Rogers 
 has got to have it. He wants it plumb bad. It's his. 
 He mortgaged his farm to help me. The money's 
 called in. He must have it in a month. I can't save 
 myself by another man's ruin." 
 
 She drew a long breath. 
 
 "A month ! We can't do it," she said. 
 
 "We must," he answered fiercely. "Will Rogers 
 staked all he had to give me a start. I swore he should 
 not lose. He shall have that money if I have to fight 
 my way to him with it." 
 
 " It may come to that," she said grimly. 
 
 She turned quickly. Her ear had caught the sound 
 of a footstep without. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 9 
 
 " Better meet nary one of them to-night," she said. 
 
 He disappeared into an inner room. 
 
 " It's come to sneaking off like a coward," he mut- 
 tered. 
 
 "Are you aimin' to come aout, Naomi? Hit's goin' 
 to be a powerful pretty night." 
 
 She recognised the voice of the young man who 
 spoke, but for a minute she did not answer. She was 
 thinking. 
 
 "All right," she said, after that momentary hesitation. 
 " I'll come when I've seen how Texas is getting on with 
 the dishes." 
 
 She went to the door of the inner room. 
 
 " I'm going aout with Frank Sharp," she said. 
 
 Then she turned quickly and visited Texas in the 
 kitchen. 
 
 The face of the waiting cavalier cleared as she came 
 out into the twilight. He was a bright-eyed, sharp- vis- 
 aged mountaineer, young and stalwart. The hair that 
 hung long in his neck had been combed with exceeding 
 care, and the hand that rested on the door-post shone 
 with the vigorousness of the scrubbing it had received. 
 A walk with Naomi Mozingo was a prize for which a 
 man must bid high. Not many men, old or young, in 
 all that valley, or on the mountain sides either, but 
 would be ready to bid, and scarcely one but would go 
 out of his way at Naomi's call. They were not insensi- 
 ble to beauty, if they were mountain men. The soft 
 ring of the girl's voice had more than once turned them 
 aside from a fixed purpose. That it had turned many a 
 man's head was well understood. 
 
 "Hit'll be as pretty a night as ever you see," re- 
 marked the young man as they left the door. 
 
 She did not answer. 
 
 "Frank," she said after a moment's silence, "what did 
 Jim Walker mean this evening ? " 
 
io VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " What the rest of 'em mean," he said, looking at her 
 admiringly. " Thar's gittin' to be a mighty uncomfort- 
 able feel in', Naomi." 
 
 " The men are fools," she said, and she smiled at him 
 as she said it. "Nary one will lose by Da-al. But 
 they've got to wait." 
 
 They might or might not be fools as a whole, but that 
 smile put one of the workmen safely into the category. 
 
 "/ know Dai's all ri-ight," he said, the long drawl on 
 the last word softening it wonderfully. " But the men 
 are in a mighty hurry. Yesterday was a week, Dal 
 promised 'em he'd pay in seven days. They've done 
 expected hit. He's back, hain't he ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Has he got the money for the wages ? " he asked. 
 
 She looked at him for a moment. 
 
 "And what if he hasn't?" she demanded in a tone 
 softly defiant. 
 
 " Hit'll be powerful awkward," he said. 
 
 There was silence between them. She was ponder- 
 ing his last words. She understood enough of the 
 nature of these men to know that it would be " powerful 
 awkward." It had been awkward enough since George 
 Roach, the mill owner's partner, had gathered together 
 all the available cash and disappeared. That was a 
 month ago. Naomi Mozingo had never doubted the 
 possibility of working through the difficulty until to- 
 night. 
 
 "Awkward or not," she said at last," "it's plumb 
 certain they've got to wa-it." 
 
 " Hain't Dal aimin' to pay ? Hain't he got nothin' for 
 they-uns ? " asked the young man. 
 
 " Frank," she said, " it's safe to tell you. I can trust 
 you anywhere" he drew himself up an inch or two 
 higher " and with anything. We've got to earn that 
 money before it'll come." 
 
VISITING THE SIN II 
 
 He stopped, and looked in her face. The last faint 
 rays of light were playing upon it. In that fading light 
 the eyes had grown wistful and sad. They looked 
 straight into those of the young man and won. 
 
 " Hit hain't goin' to be my fault if thar's ary trouble," 
 he said. "I'll he'p all I know how, but lor, they're 
 plumb crazy." 
 
12 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 "fTTlHE tree's done killed pappy ! " 
 
 The words burst forth in a shrill, weak voice, 
 
 JL the weird mournf ulness of which struck cold to 
 the heart of one listener, at least. He was crossing the 
 threshold of the log cabin as the child spoke, and the 
 blue, quivering lips were close to his heart. They had 
 been still ever since he started with her towards the 
 house. Now they opened, and that one startling sen- 
 tence escaped them. 
 
 " Killed your pappy ! " 
 
 A woman turned from the hearth. She took a step 
 towards the young man as if she would snatch the little 
 girl from his arms, then stopped, removed the pipe from 
 her mouth, and glared at the mill owner. 
 
 " Yes, killed him plumb dead." 
 
 The words ended in a gasp. Dalbert Mozingo looked 
 down into the colourless face, and noted the effort the 
 child made. 
 
 "You've done killed her, too, I reckon," said the 
 woman, nodding her head towards the little girl, but ad- 
 dressing Dalbert. 
 
 The heavy features of the speaker had taken upon 
 themselves an expression of savage moroseness. She 
 laid her pipe on the narrow mantel-shelf, and waited for 
 the mill owner to speak. 
 
 " She's hurt," he said hurriedly. " A tree fell on her, 
 and him. I've sent for the doctor." 
 
 " A powerful sight o' good hit' 11 du to send for a doc- 
 tor for a dead man," said the woman savagely. " Whose 
 fault was hit he was under the tree? Hit's you-uns 
 that 'ticed my man, and every other man, to cut down 
 
VISITING THE SIN 13 
 
 good trees jist to put money in your pocket. If he'd 'a 
 listened to me, he'd never 'a chopped another tree for a 
 man that cain't pay and don't mean to pay." 
 
 The mill owner made no answer. He carried the 
 child to one of the four beds that filled the four corners 
 of the room, choosing the one nearest to the hinged 
 shutter, which, swinging wide on this April day, left 
 open a square hole in the wall, sole window to afford 
 light to the interior. 
 
 "Better not touch her till doc gets here," he said. 
 " Her arm's broke. The less she's handled, the better." 
 
 " I reckon," replied the woman, in a dull, hard tone. 
 
 She sank upon the chair from which she had risen, 
 and put a lump of tobacco into her mouth. Then she 
 resumed her stare into the fire. 
 
 She asked no questions about the accident, and the 
 young man turned again to the child. She was a little 
 girl of nine or thereabouts, and the mill owner shuddered 
 as he saw the flaxen hair dyed red with blood that was 
 not her own. He had shuddered before, when he saw 
 the two heads lying so near together, the man's and 
 the little child's. The rosy bloom of the Judas tree was 
 not the only red that had coloured the mountain side 
 that afternoon. When Dalbert Mozingo sprang up the 
 rocks in answer to a wild cry that came ringing down 
 the mountain, he saw the two faces lying very close, 
 separated only by the ruddy stream that was widening 
 between them. 
 
 "Pappy's killed ! " shrieked the little girl ; and he did 
 not contradict her. 
 
 The face so near to hers was stiffening already. The 
 blood would not flow long. The tree that had struck 
 the child to the ground had fallen upon the body of the 
 man in such a way as to crush the life out, even if the 
 blow on the forehead had not been severe enough to 
 cause death. Dalbert had turned his attention to the 
 little girl. 
 
I 4 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Where are you hurt ? " he asked. 
 
 " Every whars," replied the child. Then, as he lifted 
 her, she tried to stretch out her hand. " Pappy, oh, 
 pappy ! " she moaned, and fell back with a shriek. 
 
 " You must not try to use that arm : it is broken ! " 
 the young man exclaimed hastily, taking the injured 
 limb in a firm grasp lest she should hurt herself more. 
 
 She had lain very still while he carried her home. He 
 thought she had fainted. But now her eyes were wide 
 open. 
 
 "How came the tree to fall on pappy?" he asked, 
 the grim silence of the woman making the moments 
 seem long. 
 
 The child stared at him with mournful eyes. 
 
 "He was cursin' at you," she said, with startling dis- 
 tinctness. " He'd chopped a right smart inter the tree, 
 and all at once he stopped to say a curse agin you, and 
 afore he could finish hit the tree come plumb atop o' 
 him and me. He never spoke no more atter that." 
 
 A curse against him and on a dying man's lips ! 
 The face of the mill owner darkened. 
 
 " I reckon the curse '11 stick if he didn't finish hit ! " 
 
 The words were emphasized by a deliberate and 
 vicious spit at the fire, the tobacco juice from the 
 woman's mouth sizzling vindictively as it reached the 
 hot embers. The dark blood rose to the young man's 
 forehead. The effect of the words was visible on 
 another face also. A pair of eyes flashed, and lips 
 opened as if to speak. They closed again, however, 
 and the boy to whom they belonged leaned back against 
 the wall and fixed his gaze on the mill owner. Perhaps 
 he was waiting for him to answer. If so, he was 
 disappointed. 
 
 For a long time there was silence in the room. The 
 mill owner was thinking that Lemuel Sutton had always 
 been a hindrance to his progress. He had from the 
 
VISITING THE SIN 15 
 
 first been suspicious of the young man, for a long time 
 refusing him the right to pass through a piece of rough 
 mountain land in his possession. It was the nearest 
 route from the stream to the road beyond. 
 
 " We-uns done without a mill afore you-all come, and 
 we can du without hit yit," he said. 
 
 He had kept up his opposition until another outlet, 
 less satisfactory, but more available, had been almost 
 decided upon, and then come to terms. But he had 
 never grown friendly towards the mill or its owner, and 
 his voice had been the loudest in outcry when the money 
 ran short. That he had died with a curse against the 
 mill owner on his lips Dalbert could well believe. 
 
 The minutes passed. The woman stared at the fire, 
 and the boy stared at the mill owner. The stare was of a 
 different character in the two cases, however. The one 
 was vicious, the other friendly. 
 
 "Howdy, Jane." 
 
 A neighbour poked her head in at the door, and peered 
 curiously round the room. Then she allowed her body 
 to follow her head. 
 
 "Howdy," she repeated, aiming her second greeting 
 at the mill owner, who sat on the edge of the bed, hold- 
 ing the little broken arm 
 
 "They're bringin' your man home," she added, walk- 
 ing over towards the fireplace. 
 
 The woman by the fire neither spoke nor moved in 
 answer, only her lips formed themselves into the right 
 curves to eject a great squirt of tobacco juice that with 
 unerring aim was shot at the one stick of wood yet 
 glowing on the hearth. The boy took his shoulders 
 away from their contact with the logs and went to the 
 door. 
 
 " Yes, they're a-bringin' of him, mammy," he said. 
 
 " Bringin' of him home ! " ejaculated the woman, in a 
 loud, hard tone. "And whose fault is hit they're 
 
16 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 a-bringin' of him home that away carry in' him like a 
 log, and him not able to he'p himself ? " 
 
 "It was an unfortunate accident," said the mill owner 
 soothingly, "but I don't know that anybody's to blame." 
 
 The woman turned upon him. 
 
 "He was killed a-doin' you-uns' work," she said. "If 
 you -all hadn't come here, he'd 'a been alive now. Did 
 we-uns want to cut the trees down ? Them young uns 
 hain't got no pappy, and I hain't got no man, all along 
 o' you." 
 
 Dalbert Mozingo recoiled. The savage animosity of 
 the words carried a sort of conviction with them. For 
 the moment he felt himself the murderer of Lemuel 
 Sutton. 
 
 " Pappy was tight ! " 
 
 The sounds were hurled into the stillness of the 
 room. The boyish, unhesitating tones cleared away a 
 mist from Dalbert' s brain. He could understand the 
 accident now. 
 
 "You shet yer mouth," said the woman savagely. 
 
 "Rhody knows," continued the boy, undaunted. 
 " She's pappy's gal. She's been atter him since noon. 
 Warn't he drunk, Rhody ? " 
 
 "Yes, he was powerful drunk," said the child slowly. 
 " He tuk another dram jist afore he begun choppin' that 
 tree." 
 
 There was a movement about the door. 
 
 " Better keen up the fire, Jane," recommended the 
 neighbour. "Hit may be wanted. They're tol'rable 
 near now." 
 
 They were bringing the dead man across the thresh- 
 old. 
 
 " Oh, lor ! Mercy sakes ! Lue-uke at the young un ! 
 She's as white as her pappy. Oh, lor, hit's a si-ight." 
 
 A crowd of women and children trooped in after the 
 sober-visaged men who bore the body of the wood- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 17 
 
 chopper. Three or four masculine forms brought up 
 the rear. The space between the beds was becoming 
 full. 
 
 " Make way there, friends." 
 
 " Here's the doc ! " 
 
 The man who pushed through the crowd around the 
 door was a fine specimen of the mountaineer. He stood 
 six feet two without his shoes, and was sufficiently stout 
 of limb to be well proportioned. 
 
 " Put him on the bed," he directed, sweeping off from 
 one of the remaining three resting places the occupants 
 who had taken possession. " Thar's nothin' to be done 
 for hi-im." 
 
 The long drawn out final word was uttered as he 
 turned towards the little girl. 
 
 " And so you got hurt too, Rhody ? " 
 
 His fingers were already feeling for broken bones. 
 
 " Don't ! " said the child, sharply. " Let him du hit. 
 His hands don't hurt like yourn." 
 
 She was looking towards Dalbert. 
 
 " Git aout o' thar ! " 
 
 The mother of the child stood by the mill owner's 
 side. 
 
 " Yes, I'll go now," he said, with an air of relief. " I 
 was caring a little too much to leave her till doc come." 
 
 "Don't!" repeated the little girl impatiently, as the 
 doctor's fingers came in contact with the bruised body. 
 " I hain't aimin' to be hurt no more 'n I can he'p. Let 
 Dal feel. His fingers don't poke inter me like yourn." 
 
 The small mouth was drawn with pain. Very evi- 
 dently the broken arm was not the full extent of the 
 injury. 
 
 "You must let the doctor see where you're hurt, 
 Rhody," said the mill owner, in a soothing tone. "He 
 can't make you better without." 
 
 " Hain't he seed enough ? " said the child wearily. 
 
18 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " I aches every whars. He hurts more 'n the tree. You 
 feel, and let him take his hands away." 
 
 Thus it happened that in the examination which fol- 
 lowed it was the mill owner's fingers that loosened the 
 child's clothing, and the mill owner's voice that spoke 
 comforting words. Before the broken bone was set, the 
 small face had grown whiter than before, and it mat- 
 tered little to Rhody whose hands touched the aching 
 limb. Her eyes were closed, and the doctor experienced 
 no opposition to his will. 
 
 "Oh, lor, mercy sakes, she's white as death! Hit 
 won't be long afore she's laid aside o' her pappy." 
 
 "Yes, and that comes o' takin' up with foreigners. 
 Would my man ever 'a been layin' thar that away if he 
 hadn't come ? " 
 
 The speaker pointed a finger at Dalbert. 
 
 "Hit'll be the child next," she continued. "Hain't 
 thar death plain enough in her face ? " 
 
 The crowd squeezed nearer to the bed. Dalbert and 
 the doctor were still busy over the fainting child. 
 
 "Thar, that's all I can do for her," announced the 
 doctor at length, straightening himself up and breathing 
 a sigh of relief. 
 
 " Is there serious injury ? " asked the mill owner, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 " Serious enough," replied the other cautiously. " I 
 hain't expectin' to attend to that arm agin. I sot hit 
 for fear she'd pull through, but I hain't reckonin' on 
 hit." 
 
 " Poor little thing ! " said the mill owner, softly. " I 
 reckon I'll go before she comes to." 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Sutton," he continued, in a louder voice, 
 "we've done all we can for Rhody here. She'll come 
 to herself after a bit. And when you get over this a 
 little, you'll own that I had nothing to do with the acci- 
 dent." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 19 
 
 "I shain't own nothin' o' the sort," she snapped. 
 " That gal 'ud 'a been runnin' around, and her pappy a- 
 settin' thar, smokin' his pipe, if you-all hadn't never 
 come." 
 
 "Well, well," said Dalbert, a little sharply, "you're in 
 trouble now, and you don't see straight. I'll go." 
 
 " I'd 'a been mighty proud if you'd 'a gone sooner." 
 
 They were her parting words. 
 
 When he had crossed the threshold the mill owner 
 drew a deep breath. The dark, cool woods were before 
 him. He plunged into them. Here, at least, he would 
 be free from his enemies. How bitter the woman had 
 been ! And she was not the only one who was ready to 
 lay every ill to the door of an employer who had taken 
 the work of the men and found himself unable to pay 
 for the same. 
 
 Dalbert Mozingo was not at all sure what the out- 
 come would be. Unless the men would keep on work- 
 ing, and give him time, there would be as little chance 
 of paying in the future as in the present. His face was 
 dark as the shadow in the woods. After his experience 
 of that afternoon, he was looking on the dark side of 
 things. Why not ? The brightness never realised it- 
 self, he argued. He started when a hand was laid on 
 his arm. 
 
 "Hullo!" 
 
 A boy stepped out from behind a tree. 
 
 " Why, Lem, I didn't know you'd left the house." 
 
 " Yes. I come aout to meet you." 
 
 The bright eyes that had stared in his face as he 
 waited for the doctor were looking up at him now. 
 There was silence for a minute. Dalbert had come to 
 a stand. 
 
 " Don't you take no notice o' mammy. Pappy was 
 tight." 
 
 The young voice was urgent. 
 
20 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Yes I know." 
 
 "Hit hain't no fault o' yourn." 
 
 " No. But I'm sorry." 
 
 "You needn't. You hadn't nary thing to du with 
 hit." 
 
 The last words were spoken from a distance. Lem 
 had backed into the shadow of the trees, a sudden shy- 
 ness taking possession of him. The next moment he 
 had disappeared. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 21 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE day was hot, a typical April day for the Ken- 
 tucky mountains, a June day a Northerner 
 might have called it. Cedar Fork, by which 
 name the stream that ran past the mill was known 
 further on, where its valley widened out and boasted an 
 acre or two of level ground, shone clear beneath the 
 sun's rays. So did a spring that, to use the phrase- 
 ology of the Cedar Fork land, "boiled up" by the road- 
 side at a spot yet more remote. A man wearing a 
 broad-brimmed hat and a red shirt stooped to put his 
 mouth on a level with the rock from which the water 
 gushed out. 
 
 " That's tol'rable refreshin'," he said, wiping the heat 
 drops from his face, and stopping to take breath after 
 his deep draught. 
 
 The red shirt glowed hot in the sunshine, and above 
 it the dark hair of the wearer hung low. The hair bore 
 signs of little extra attention. The red handkerchief 
 also, that surmounted the warm-tinted shirt, was ad- 
 justed with precision. The preacher did not forget his 
 position in the community. To-day was Sunday, and he 
 was bound for the "church-house" at Cedar Fork. He 
 was warranted in expecting a good attendance there, for, 
 since the mill was started, men had poured into the 
 hamlet. The neighbourhood of Cedar Fork might be 
 slow to welcome the invasion of a saw-mill, but it was 
 not slow to secure a share of the mill owner's money. 
 
 The preacher lifted his head, and looked at the sun. 
 
 " The evenin's drawin' away tol'rable smart," he said, 
 and resumed his walk. 
 
 In reality, it was but two hours past noon. The par- 
 
22 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 ticular time in the " evening " at which service was to be 
 looked for in the Cedar Fork "church-house" was three 
 o'clock. 
 
 "Howdy, girls," said the preacher, with the ready 
 courtesy of the region greeting two maidens who came 
 to a cabin door at the sound of footsteps. 
 
 He walked on, wrapped in meditation. His thoughts 
 were of the congregation that had that morning gath- 
 ered ten miles further back among the mountains to 
 listen to the discourse he was about to repeat in Cedar 
 Fork valley. Some of his hearers had hardly yet 
 reached their homes. They thought little of riding 
 many miles to and from the service. And Elisha Tiller 
 thought less of preaching twice or thrice on a Sunday, 
 and walking twenty miles between services when, as 
 to-day, the lameness of his mule necessitated the 
 exertion. 
 
 " Howdy, babies." 
 
 He was passing two healthy, grimy-faced youngsters 
 tumbling over one another and over the low cabin steps 
 in their eagerness to get a sight of the preacher. 
 
 " Howdy, boys," he added a minute later, when two 
 lads came to a stand by a gate leading into a field. 
 
 The road was becoming less deserted. From bridle- 
 path and mountain track a sprinkling of horsemen and 
 foot travellers turned into the valley road. Now and 
 then a horse or mule carried double, the good wife riding 
 behind her husband, her generous sun-bonnet sheltering 
 her face, her arm encircling the waist of her lord. 
 
 "Howdy," said the preacher, in cordial greeting, as 
 one and another passed him. 
 
 The "church-house" at Cedar Fork was a square 
 log structure, peculiarly well adapted to the summer 
 needs of the valley. That is to say, it was peculiarly 
 ill adapted to the winter needs of the same. Windows 
 were hardly essential features of the edifice. The spaces 
 
VISITING THE SIN 23 
 
 between the logs could well serve the purpose. In 
 winter it was necessary to sit in a square close around 
 the big rusty stove, for the rain had a trick of blowing 
 in squalls through the room. The stove occupied the 
 exact centre of the floor; and the rain and snow had 
 been known to fall sizzling upon its surface, swept sheer 
 across through the big gaps in the outer walls. 
 
 The "church-house" stood on level ground at the top 
 of a hill, up which the road sloped sharply. To-day no- 
 body would have passed it without notice. It might be 
 an insignificant log building at ordinary times, but not 
 when those mountain men and women were gathered 
 around it. The " church-house " would never lack char- 
 acter with those rugged faces in the foreground. Tem- 
 pestuous as the wind-swept heights of their native land, 
 the mountaineers had imbibed along with her simplicity 
 the wildness of nature as they knew her. There was 
 not an insignificant face among them, but there was 
 more than one fierce one. 
 
 The occasion was the monthly preaching service, but 
 that did not hinder the men from bringing their guns 
 along with them. They felt more at home when thus 
 equipped, and at any time a squirrel, or larger game, 
 might cross their path. 
 
 Some half-dozen of the company had drawn together 
 in a group. There was a discussion going on. At least, 
 it was to be inferred that there was a discussion. 
 Raised voices and impatient ejaculations, with here and 
 there a curse, reached the ears of those outside the 
 immediate circle. Gradually the scattered figures drew 
 round those others as a centre. 
 
 "Hit hain't no good squeezin'. You cain't squeeze 
 blood aout of a post if you du try." 
 
 " I reckon thar's a leetle blood left in Dalbert Mo- 
 zingo yit," came the answer, in a sneering tone. 
 " Thar's ways of drivin' a leetle of hit ao-ut, if hit hain't 
 no good to sque-eze." 
 
24 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The speaker glanced at his gun as he spoke. 
 
 "Whar's the good o' spoilin' everybody's chance?" 
 demanded the other, hotly. " If the mill stops, we-all 
 lose money and work too." 
 
 "I reckon," was the answer, spoken slowly. "And 
 what '11 Dal lose ? Tell me tha-at." 
 
 " Hit hain't goin' to du us ary bit o' good to make him 
 lose," replied the first speaker, his face growing red with 
 the excitement of the argument. 
 
 " That's hit," chimed in another. " Hit hain't goin' to 
 du us a mite o 1 good to hurt Dal." 
 
 " Hain't hit ? " demanded his opponent, savagely. 
 " Hit's goin' to du me a sight o' good. Hit 'ud be a 
 mighty pretty sight to me to see a bullet put through 
 his black heart." 
 
 " Hit hain't no blacker 'n yourn, I reckon," said Frank 
 Sharp angrily. 
 
 " Hain't hit ? " was the sneering answer. " Who said 
 so ? Naomi ? How many kisses did she promise ye to 
 stick up for her precious brother ? " 
 
 Just what would have been the reply is not known, 
 for at that moment the red shirt of the preacher was 
 seen upon the brow of the hill. 
 
 " Howdy," he said, in loud, cheerful tones. 
 
 Part of the congregation followed him into the build- 
 ing. The mountain folk were a church-going people. 
 The argument outside was interrupted. Frank Sharp 
 was among the men who went into the house. 
 
 There were mutterings of wrath without. Public 
 opinion was sharply divided on the subject of the mill 
 owner and his sister. Frank Sharp was not the only 
 man who looked at the question in a light thrown upon 
 it by a girl's face. The mill owner's sister had more in- 
 fluence over the men whom her brother employed than 
 any of those men would have been quite willing to ac- 
 knowledge. If Naomi Moztfngo had not been at Cedar 
 
VISITING THE SIN 25 
 
 Fork, it is safe to say that the whir of wheels would not 
 at this juncture have been heard there. 
 
 Neither Dalbert Mozingo nor his sister was among 
 the worshippers. This was not because either was in- 
 different to the privilege of attending the monthly ser- 
 vice, but because neither felt inclined to mingle freely 
 with the Cedar Fork people under the present circum- 
 stances. 
 
 The winter arrangement of seats was still in evidence 
 within the " church-house." It was more convenient so. 
 If the stove was not wanted for heat, it was still very 
 surely wanted. How else could there be as natural 
 a common centre towards which, with thoughtful pre- 
 cision, preacher and congregation could spit ? 
 
 The footsteps of the gathering people sounded loud 
 upon the puncheon floor. The seats around the stove 
 were taken up. One by one the men dropped in, to 
 balance themselves upon the narrow bench made from a 
 chopped out rail and located near the door. There were 
 some who sat on a log outside. It was conveniently 
 near the door. The words of the preacher could be 
 plainly heard, and when he grew eloquent, and his voice 
 rose and rose till the deep purple of his face bore wit- 
 ness to the honest effort he was making in behalf of his 
 hearers, they were in a good position to benefit by his 
 discourse. 
 
 Elisha Tiller was not the man to cheat his congrega- 
 tion with a mild, gentle application of the gospel. These 
 were the old days, for in the year 1875 the old methods 
 yet prevailed in the Kentucky mountains. A preacher 
 must be strong of lung to arouse his hearers to enthu- 
 siasm. Elisha' s lungs were irreproachable, and he had a 
 reputation for eloquence. 
 
 In anticipation of such eloquence a tin pail had been 
 placed conveniently close to the good man's feet. It was 
 rilled with the purest of spring water but a few minutes 
 
26 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 before he entered. A gourd with a curiously curved handle 
 floated invitingly on its surface. It was well that gourd and 
 water were handy. There were times when the preacher 
 exhausted the resources of even his powerful frame, 
 when his voice rose and rose till the largest volume of 
 sound possible for it to produce rolled through the yawn- 
 ing crevices of the logs and out of the open door, and 
 the speaker gave vent to a gasping "ah ! " ejected from 
 his mouth the last remnant of moisture it contained, and 
 had recourse to the pail and the gourd. It was with the 
 ease of long practice that he carried the water to his 
 lips, and emptied the gourd without the loss of a single 
 drop. 
 
 It was not irreverent, that long, exhausting torrent 
 of words, and the vigorous spit with which the eloquence 
 concluded. It was a sign of the earnestness of the 
 preacher, and it never failed to attract the best attention 
 of the hearers. 
 
 On this "evening," as the preacher proceeded, he grew 
 especially energetic. Without stopping in his remarks, 
 he rolled up the sleeves of his red shirt, and stood with 
 sinewy arms bared for the struggle with his discourse. 
 
 " That's powerful convincing" whispered a good wife 
 to her husband. 
 
 A more than ordinarily emphatic spit at the rusty 
 stove was his answer. The preacher's voice was rising 
 again. 
 
 It was when it had reached its highest point, and was 
 almost ready for that final "ah" with which exhausted 
 nature for the moment gave up the contest, that the 
 report of a gun brought the congregation to their feet. 
 That "ah" was never uttered. A woman shrieked. 
 
 " Mercy on us ! Oh, lor ! they're shootin'." 
 
 There was a rush for the door, and then a recoil. 
 
 "Keep away from thar ! You'll git shot ! " shrieked 
 a mother, clutching a venturesome boy by the arm. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 27 
 
 " Hit's Mat Hutsel ! He's the fightin'est man I ever 
 seed." 
 
 It was Mat Hutsel, the savage-looking mountaineer 
 who had declared himself anxious to put a bullet through 
 Dalbert Mozingo's heart. He was over free with his 
 bullets. One of them had nearly gone through the 
 head of Beth Morgan, a young man who had been sit- 
 ting on the same log by the "church-house" door. 
 Beth belonged to the opposite faction. " That witch gal, 
 Naomi, had spelt him," Mat had sneeringly declared. 
 
 It was a pity somebody had not " spelt " (bewitched) 
 Mat himself. Any kind of a spell that could charm 
 away his savagery would have been for the good of the 
 community. Mat had been drinking. From his pocket 
 a bottle had more than once been produced while the 
 preacher was talking. 
 
 * Take a drap?" he had said, once, twice, thrice 
 passing the bottle to his neighbours. 
 
 Every time he offered it he took a long pull at it 
 himself. The whisky was the regular home article, 
 made among the mountains, in stills that were not open 
 to inspection. It was strong, and Mat had drunk more 
 than a little of it before he came to the "church-house." 
 The last "drap" had passed his lips less than two 
 minutes before the gun shot was heard. The corn 
 whisky had fired his brain. Mat was ready for a quarrel. 
 
 And the young man whom he began to taunt about 
 Naomi, speaking the words in a low sneering tone that 
 was yet audible all along the log seat, had taken too 
 many mouthfuls from the same bottle to be quite as cool 
 as he might have been. There was a moment when he 
 answered the taunt, and then there was the ringing 
 shot. 
 
 " Stop that ! Mat Hutsel, drap that gun ! " 
 
 The preacher was at the door, the women and chil- 
 dren crowding round him or following behind him. 
 
28 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Another shot was the only answer. It came perilously 
 near being fired right into the shrieking crowd. 
 
 Back they tumbled, in wild confusion. 
 
 " Shet the door ! You'll be shot ! Come in, Elisha ! 
 Come in, you ! " 
 
 A woman pulled her half-grown boy inside the build- 
 ing, and succeeded in shutting the door. The preacher 
 was yet outside. 
 
 " Stop that shootin', I say ! Hain't this house a house 
 o' worship ? Hit's a sin and " 
 
 But the preacher got no further. The shooting was 
 becoming general. A dozen men were already in the 
 fray. A bullet whizzed past his head and buried itself 
 in the door-post. He put his shoulder to the door and 
 burst it open. 
 
 " If they will shoot, let 'em," he said. " Thar's lives 
 worth savin', and hit hain't no good throwin' 'em away 
 on them that's too plumb crazy to hear the powerfulest 
 screechin' aimed right at their ears. They-uns has got 
 to fight hit aout." 
 
 They were fighting it out. 
 
 "Oh, lor! Oh, mercy! Beth's down. Mat's done 
 killed him." 
 
 There was a heavy fall, and young Beth Morgan lay 
 motionless. Nobody stopped to lift him. His friends 
 were too busy trying to pour hot lead into his opponent, 
 the leader of the attacking party. 
 
 Mat Hutsel fought like a fury. His enemies were 
 sheltering themselves behind trees. He advanced a few 
 yards in front of his victim, and stood madly courting 
 attack 
 
 "He's hit! Mat's hit!" 
 
 The shout was from the opposite faction. 
 
 They were right; but Mat stood his ground, firing 
 savagely at his opponents, and calling on his friends to 
 bestir themselves. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 29 
 
 Another shot told, and another. 
 
 " His legs is all mashed up ! " 
 
 A watcher through the great chinks of the " church- 
 house" excitedly explained the situation to those less 
 favourably situated for seeing. 
 
 " Oh, lor ! Oh, lor ! Hit's awful ! He's done for, but 
 he's wallerin* on the ground and shootin' still." 
 
 " Done for " or not, the hands in savage fury pulled 
 the trigger of the gun till the charge was exhausted. 
 Then the wounded man began crawling away, dragging 
 after him the leg that, shattered in two places, looked as 
 if it would drop off on the road, and forcing the other, 
 from which blood flowed in streams, to do duty for two. 
 With the bullets dropping around him, he crawled pain- 
 fully, but with amazing swiftness. His goal was a great 
 chestnut tree that stood behind the body of Beth 
 Morgan. Its broad trunk offered inviting shelter. To 
 die in ? Not just yet. 
 
 With almost incredible endurance, Mat Hutsel dragged 
 himself not only to that chestnut but up it, climbing on 
 the side farthest from his enemies. Ten feet from the 
 ground the trunk divided. A broken right leg and 
 wounded left one notwithstanding, Mat climbed that 
 tree to the notch. Then laboriously reloading his gun, 
 he rested it in the crook, and brought his eyes on a 
 level. Below him, only a couple of yards away, lay the 
 body of his victim, Beth Morgan. Mat's face was terri- 
 ble to look upon. 
 
 " Come on ! " he muttered through his set teeth. 
 
 He was waiting for death and his enemies. 
 
 The latter were a little cautious about "coming on." 
 His friends, too, were harassing them, though they were 
 a little less venturesome than Mat. Shots sounded on 
 all sides. One or two others fell, and crawled away, or 
 were helped away. 
 
 " Come on," muttered Mat again. 
 
30 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The blood was trickling from a wound in his forehead, 
 and smearing the white teeth that gleamed like those of 
 a savage animal. 
 
 And at last one "came on," watchful, and ready to 
 dodge. 
 
 "Take that!" 
 
 Mat's gun spoke, and Mat's eyes gleamed. The 
 shot was effective. That it accomplished less than the 
 shooter expected was perhaps owing to the fact that at 
 the moment at which it was fired Frank Sharp appeared 
 in the open, his gun raised and pointed towards the 
 spot where Mat Hutsel's eyes were for the moment visi- 
 ble. His object was to cover the approach of the man 
 who was creeping nearer to the chestnut tree. 
 
 A loud oath and another shot was Mat's greeting for 
 the young man. A yell of triumph from the blood- 
 stained lips told of his furious gladness when Frank's 
 arm fell, broken at the elbow. It was a moment of ex- 
 ultation and doom. In his savage glee Mat drew him- 
 self up towards the notch of the tree. Now was his 
 chance to put a bullet through the young man's heart. 
 He forgot that he was exposing himself. 
 
 A fierce yell brought a crowd round the bigger crevices 
 of the "church-house" walls. Then a wailing shriek 
 went up. 
 
 "Oh, lor! Hit's a si-ight ! " 
 
 From the crotch of the chestnut a distorted face was 
 seen surmounting a reeling figure. Then the body of 
 Mat Hutsel fell headlong to the ground, dropping upon 
 that of his victim. They lay as if in close embrace, 
 young Beth Morgan and his murderer. 
 
 The sight arrested even the fierce fury of those moun- 
 tain men. The shooters lowered their guns, and the 
 wounded took advantage of the lull in the storm to creep 
 away. Then the preacher opened the door of the 
 "church-house" and stepped out among the crowd. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 31 
 
 With burning, eager words he demanded a cessation of 
 hostilities. And the leaders, such of them as were left, 
 moved sullenly off, and the wild, short fight was over. 
 But the memory of it would linger, and men would be 
 careful how they went out after nightfall, for the love of 
 vengeance is a quality that the mountaineer has inherited 
 from his forefathers. 
 
 Dalbert Mozingo stood by the door of the mill. He 
 had heard the shots, and had gone a few steps down the 
 valley. The shots were too frequent to suggest a lucky 
 encounter with game. A faint sound of shouting had 
 once or twice come to his ears. 
 
 The mill was a mile and a half from the "church- 
 house," with wooded hills between. The sounds came 
 to the young man's ears broken and subdued. He was 
 wondering a little uneasily what had happened, when 
 Lem Sutton suddenly stood by his side. The appear- 
 ance was sudden, for he had not seen the lad approach- 
 ing. 
 
 " Say, Dal ! " 
 
 The boy came close to the young man, and fixed a 
 pair of eager, startled eyes on his face. 
 
 " Well ! " responded Dalbert, slowly. 
 
 " You-uns better go in, and shet yer door, and bar hit. 
 Thar's shooting up at the church-house." 
 
 "Shooting!" said Dalbert, in quick alarm. "What 
 do they want to shoot for ? What's the row about ? " 
 
 " You," replied the boy, significantly, " and her." 
 
 He pointed towards the rock round which a girl's 
 figure was seen approaching. 
 
 " What's that you're saying about me ? " 
 
 The soft, half lazy sounds had a laugh in them. 
 Naomi had seen the pointed finger, and come up swiftly. 
 
 " What's that you're saying ? " 
 
 "They're shootin'," the boy stammered out, embar- 
 rassed by the eyes that were looking at him with the 
 suspicion of a laugh in them. 
 
32 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Shooting ? More fools they. What about ? " 
 
 The tone was easy, but the girl's eyes were keen. 
 Lem fancied they could see through him. 
 
 " Hi-im and you." 
 
 He turned, as if he would have darted away ; but be- 
 fore one foot could be put ahead of the other Naomi's 
 hand was on his shoulder. She deftly turned him 
 round, and looked into his eyes. 
 
 "Now, then, aout with it," she said. "What's the 
 shooting about ? Who's shooting ? " 
 
 "Mat Hutsel, and Frank Sharp, and Beth Morgan, 
 at least, Beth was in hit. He hain't now. He's dead." 
 
 "Dead!" 
 
 Brother and sister spoke together. A horror that was 
 beyond words was on Dalbert's face. 
 
 "Yes. Hit was in the preachin'. Mat shot him. 
 Mat's legs was all mashed ; but he climb into that thar 
 chestnut forenenst the church-house, that un with a 
 divided trunk, and he stuck his gun through the notch 
 and shot. He was a-shootin' when I come to tell ye. 
 I seed his eyes a-peerin' through that thar openin' jist 
 afore I started." 
 
 Dalbert was too much engrossed with the terribleness 
 of the situation to appreciate the self-denial that had 
 sent young Lem away from the fight in the very height 
 of the excitement. Beth Morgan was dead, and the 
 quarrel had been about him Dalbert Mozingo and 
 his sister. For the moment he was stunned. 
 
 " Where are you going, Naomi ? " 
 
 The girl was already many steps away. He had not 
 seen her start. 
 
 "To stop the shooting," she said, the red colour 
 sweeping in waves across her face. "Keep away! 
 Don't hinder me ! " 
 
 This as he sprang forward, and laid his hand on her 
 arm. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 33 
 
 " You shall not go," he said emphatically. " I'm 
 going myself." 
 
 She turned upon him. 
 
 "Dalbert Mozingo," she retorted, " ain't you got any 
 sense ? Do you think it will make them more jpeaceable 
 to see you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not." His tone was bitter. " I make no 
 claim to popularity, but they can at least shoot me 
 instead of one another. It might be more just." 
 
 " Don't be a fool," she said, impatiently breaking away 
 from him. "If you come, you will put my life in 
 danger, and do no good anyway." 
 
 She was speeding over the ground in the direction of 
 the log church as she spoke, the angry colour still 
 flaring across her face. 
 
 Dalbert looked after her, and hesitated. 
 
 " I might as well be shot as have everlastingly to play 
 the part of a coward," he said. 
 
 Her answer was a laugh. 
 
 "There's lots of courage in doing a foolish thing, 
 ain't there ? " she called back. 
 
 "You better do as she says. They-uns are power- 
 ful mad." 
 
 Even at that moment Dalbert could not fail to see 
 something of the pride that shone in the boy's eyes. 
 The feeling of comradeship was strong in the heart of 
 Lem Sutton. For the time he was one with the mill 
 owner. Dalbert did not guess that the small lad had 
 long ago accepted him as an object of worship, and that 
 this moment, when he could feel that he was essential 
 to the safety of his hero, was one of the proudest in his 
 short life. 
 
 " You go in the house, and shet the door. I'll tell 
 ye if any of they-uns comes," he said. 
 
 " You shut your mouth," said Dalbert, curtly, but not 
 unkindly. 
 
34 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The boy obeyed, and they watched together. 
 
 Naomi Mozingo had not gone half-way to the church 
 when she met Frank Sharp. The young man's face 
 was white. 
 
 " Go back ! " he said peremptorily. " Thar's no more 
 preachiri' this evenin'." 
 
 " Preaching ! " she said scornfully. " Who's going to 
 preach to murderers ? " 
 
 "I thought you didn't know," he said. 
 
 "I do. How dare you mix yourself and me in 
 such a fray ? " 
 
 Her eyes were darting dangerous gleams at him. 
 They wounded as effectually as the bullet that was yet 
 in his arm. His face flushed. 
 
 "I went to he'p my friends and yours," he said. 
 
 " My friends ! " she retorted. "And they show their 
 friendship by fighting like wild beasts about me. Truly 
 they are friends worth having. Shooting is the work of 
 cowards, Frank Sharp, and I acknowledge no coward as 
 friend." 
 
 She would have passed him, but he stretched out the 
 uninjured hand and clutched her sleeve. 
 
 " What are you goin' to du ? " he asked. 
 
 " Stop the rest of the fools," she said. 
 
 " You needn't. They're all gone or dead." 
 
 He loosened his hold, swaying as if he would have 
 fallen. She turned then. 
 
 " Go on to the house," she said, in an altered tone. 
 " Dal will do what he can for you till the doctor comes." 
 
 " I won't." 
 
 He staggered to the roadside, and dropped exhausted 
 on the grass. Scarcely a trace of colour was left in his 
 face, but there was a savage gleam in his eyes. 
 
 The girl came and laid her hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " Let me see the wound," she said. " That bleeding 
 must be stopped." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 35 
 
 And in spite of his protestations she did what she 
 could to stop it, and then went back with him to the 
 house. 
 
 She sent Lem Sutton for the doctor. It was long 
 before he came. 
 
 "Another bullet to look after?" he asked. "Well, 
 you-all that have got off with nothin' worse 'n wounds 
 may think yourselves in luck. You've come aout of hit 
 better than Beth Morgan, and Mat Hutsel, and Jim 
 Somers." 
 
 It was the first intimation that any besides Mat and 
 Beth had paid the full penalty. Dalbert Mozingo's face 
 grew more drawn as he listened to the doctor's words. 
 
 " I didn't know it was Jim too," he said hoarsely. 
 
 "Why, man, don't take hit so-o," said the doctor, 
 heartily. "Hit hain't your doin'. If they want to 
 shoot, they'll always find something to shoot about." 
 
 But Dal was not comforted. 
 
36 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE accustomed quiet of the mountains was 
 broken. The very stream ranted of strife. With 
 loud insistency Cedar Fork bawled and threat- 
 ened, its every tone a menace. Storm after storm, short 
 and furious, had swept over Cedar Fork valley, setting 
 the air ablaze with lightning, and pouring into the creek 
 a wild rush of water that taught Cedar Fork its power. 
 There was strife in the air, and strife in the water, and 
 strife in the bearing of the men and women whose feet 
 trod valley and mountain sides. Discontent had been 
 growing for weeks. The crop was ripe now. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton, sitting glowering over the embers on 
 her hearth, was not the only one who laid at the door of 
 Dalbert Mozingo the unfortunate fact that the grave- 
 yard had grown richer since the tree-buds burst their 
 sheaths. It was hardly fair that the mill owner should 
 be held responsible for the breaking loose of passions 
 always too near the surface for safety ; but inasmuch as 
 there would have been no shooting if there had been no 
 ill-feeling, and there would presumably have been no ill- 
 feeling if there had been no mill, the inhabitants of 
 Cedar Fork valley, taking the shortest road to a conclu- 
 sion, laid to the charge of the mill owner the disasters 
 that had attended the shooting on the previous Sunday. 
 Worse still in its effects on the situation, Dalbert 
 Mozingo was inclined to follow the line of reasoning 
 adopted by the mountain folk, and to arrive at a conclu- 
 sion not far removed from theirs. Not so, the mill 
 owner's sister. She noted the stern sadness of her 
 brother's face with growing disapprobation. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 37 
 
 " You're thinking yourself a murderer now, I suppose, 
 because a set of crazy mountain men see fit to call you 
 so," she said, with lively scorn in her tone. 
 
 " If I'd never come here, Beth Morgan and the rest 
 would be alive to-day," he said, his voice hoarse with the 
 pain of putting the horror into words. 
 
 "Perha-aps," she said, with a long, sarcastic drawl. 
 " They mi-ight be alive, and they mi-ight not. It takes 
 a little less than nothing to set the-em fighting." 
 
 Then, as she looked into his face, her tone changed. 
 
 " Dal, you're a real fool," she said ; but she said it 
 softly. " If all the men in Cedar Fork valley and aout 
 of it choose to break one another's heads, or shoot one 
 another dead, for love or hate of me, is it ary fault of 
 mine? Where there's gunpowder there '11 be a burst 
 up sooner or later. What does it matter who is the 
 match ? " 
 
 " What does it matter ? " he repeated, pain and regret 
 struggling together in his voice. "Nothing, perhaps, 
 in the result, but everything to the match. If I could 
 give back life to Beth Morgan or Jim Somers, I would 
 change places with either one of them to-day." 
 
 " Hm ! The world would be a sight richer for the 
 exchange, wouldn't it ? " she said. 
 
 The mill-wheel was turning to-day as briskly as ever, 
 more briskly, perchance, since the stream was full. 
 The mill owner's sister had promptly silenced all talk of 
 stopping the work. 
 
 " Since my coming here has done so much harm, I 
 had better pull down the mill and be gone," Dalbert had 
 said on the Sunday evening when the valley grew still 
 as a battlefield after a conflict. 
 
 " How are you aimin' to pay the men ? " asked his 
 sister quietly. 
 
 Dalbert was silent. In truth, he could not pay them 
 unless he pushed the work further. The mill was pay- 
 
3 8 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 ing expenses and giving a fair profit. In time he would 
 clear himself of the difficulty into which his partner's 
 sudden flight had dragged him. But not yet. 
 
 So the mill went sawing on, and upon the mountain 
 the sound of the axe was heard as usual on the Monday 
 following the shooting fray. A few places were con- 
 spicuously vacant. They did not all belong to dead 
 men. There were those who had been active in the 
 shooting who deemed that Cedar Fork was not a desir- 
 able place of residence in the immediate future. Not 
 that any greatly feared the law. Cedar Fork was in the 
 heart of the mountains, and Cedar Fork was a law unto 
 itself. The next time the sheriff had occasion to pass 
 through the gap that gave easiest access to the region 
 he took pains to explain that he had no evidence against 
 any man in the neighbourhood, and that his intentions 
 were strictly friendly. 
 
 He was speaking the literal truth. It behooved a 
 sheriff of those days to be friendly in the Cedar Fork 
 valley. Why should he be any other ? There were a 
 hundred sheltering rocks from behind which a bullet 
 could pop to the certain undoing of an officer foolish 
 enough to be unfriendly with an impregnable mountain 
 district. 
 
 No, it was not the law they feared. But after that 
 day there were men who went about with pistols slung 
 around their waists, and one or two of the shooters, 
 having a premonition of danger, took their guns and 
 went out hunting, away from the seat of strife. 
 
 And outwardly the valley grew quiet, though the 
 stream menaced, and dark faces scowled, and Mrs. Sut- 
 ton talked loudly of the disasters that had come to the 
 neighbourhood in the wake of the mill, and dubbed Dal- 
 bert Mozingo the murderer of " her man and her young- 
 un." 
 
 For little Rhody lay by her father's side in the dismal 
 
VISITING THE SIN 39 
 
 burying-ground on a hill-top denuded of trees. The 
 sloping shelter of rough boards placed a few feet above 
 those two desolate graves was not in sight from Mrs. 
 Sutton's window, nevertheless, it afforded her satisfac- 
 tion to sit there, and point a vindictive finger in that direc- 
 tion, while she cursed the " foreigner who had come to a 
 valley where nary one wanted him, and nary one was the 
 better for his comin'." 
 
 Lem turned up every day at the mill. Since he had 
 brought the news of the shooting he had felt nearer to 
 his hero. The boy kept his eyes and ears open. That 
 was how it happened that he knew a little more about 
 the sayings and doings of the men than they suspected. 
 On one occasion he repeated what he heard to Dalbert, 
 but the look of sadness on the young man's face was not 
 the expression he had desired to call up. All the rest 
 of that day the mill owner moved about under an added 
 gloom, doing the work of two men in a frantic effort to 
 make up by personal exertion for that which was lack- 
 ing, and feeling all the time a sense of guilt that was 
 more wearing than the labour. Lem decided that he 
 had made a mistake. After that he carried his news to 
 Naomi. She only laughed. 
 
 " Let them talk," she said. " What finds its way aout 
 of their mouths leaves so much the less in their hearts. 
 The more they say, the better. It lets off some of their 
 spite." 
 
 But she took note of all Lem told her, and was 
 watchful. 
 
 It was more than a week after Dalbert had under- 
 taken personally to fill the vacant places at the mill that 
 a stranger rode into the valley. The sky had grown 
 tranquil again, and Cedar Fork only occasionally growled 
 out a note of warning. The stranger seemed struck with 
 the beauty of the scene. 
 
 "Where's the mill?" he asked of a man who was 
 coming towards him. 
 
40 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Yander, more's the pity ! " 
 
 "Pity, eh?" said the stranger, in an undertone. 
 "Then you're no worker at the saws." 
 
 He was wrong. It was because he was a worker that 
 the mountaineer was aggrieved. He had come down 
 from his home, miles away in the mountains, to help in 
 the mill. He was one of those for whom Naomi pro- 
 vided in the boarding-house, and whom Lem watched 
 closely. He pointed surlily down the stream as he spoke. 
 
 "Get along 'yander,' then," said the stranger, shaking 
 the bridle on his horse's neck. 
 
 The saws had stopped their relentless tearing through 
 the hearts of trees, and were resting for the night. 
 Working hours were over. 
 
 Once again the stranger stopped his horse to look 
 around him. 
 
 "A fine prospect for a mill owner," he said admiringly. 
 
 In the natural order of things Dalbert Mozingo should 
 have been pleased to welcome his visitor. He brought 
 money. And money was sorely needed at the mill. 
 The mill owner was not glad to see him, however 
 there. His coming brought with it perplexity, and 
 possible danger. 
 
 His stay in the valley was short. He left early in the 
 morning, riding away beneath the splendid forest trees, 
 the girth of which more than once called forth an ex- 
 pression of admiration. 
 
 "You've got some first-class timber here," he said, 
 coming to a stand before a chestnut that measured ten 
 feet through. " They're well pleased with it up yonder." 
 
 He had had good opportunity to judge. For the past 
 month the greater part of all that the mill turned out 
 had gone into his hands. 
 
 The mill owner rode far enough with his visitor to 
 put him in the way of crossing the mountain by a short 
 cut. He was nearing home again when a mountaineer 
 
VISITING THE SIN 41 
 
 brought his horse alongside, the two rinding barely 
 enough room to ride down the mountain path. 
 
 " Was that man James Low ? " 
 
 The mill owner looked at the questioner steadily for a 
 moment before he answered, "Yes." 
 
 " Him the stuff from our country's been goin' aout to 
 since Tuesday was a month ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The answer was short and not conciliatory. Dalbert 
 Mozingo understood the purport of the questions. 
 
 " Did he come this way to pay for hit ? " 
 
 The mill owner reined in his horse, and turned full on 
 the questioner. 
 
 " What he came here for is my business, not yours," 
 ,he said. " Look here, John Sharp. Every cent I owe 
 you I'm going to pay. But I can't pay to-day, and I 
 ain't going to be questioned about my business, or about 
 the business of ary man that comes to my house." 
 
 " Your business, is hit ? " said the man, a savage into- 
 nation in his voice. " And hit hain't mine ? You hain't 
 cut none o' the trees that went to that thar Jim Low 
 off 'n my land, have ye ? And ye don't owe me a smart 
 sight on to a hundred dollars ? Hit hain't my business, 
 hain't hit ? " 
 
 He turned his horse up a steep slope, and disappeared. 
 
 " There's going to be trouble with them," muttered 
 Dalbert. " I wish James Low had made an appointment 
 beforehand. I would rather have met him anywhere 
 than here." 
 
 For, of the five hundred dollars that had come into 
 the mill owner's hands that day, not a cent could be 
 spared for the mountain men. Dalbert felt that his 
 honour was at stake. Twelve months before he had 
 allowed a friend to mortgage his farm to help him put 
 machinery in the mill. That five hundred dollars was 
 needed to save the farm. 
 
42 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Naomi's smile was half encouraging, half questioning. 
 She had waylaid her brother before he could reach the 
 house. Her hand gently caressed his horse's nose, 
 while she looked into the rider's eyes. 
 
 "John Sharp was at me." 
 
 "Ah ! Thought he'd be in ti-ime. Well, the rest are 
 ready to follow suit." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Haven't I the best little spy in Kentucky to keep 
 me informed ? " she asked lightly. " Trust Lem Sutton 
 for letting anything go beside hi-im." 
 
 " What are they going to do ? " 
 
 "Force you to pay the money." 
 
 She was watching the effect of her words. It was 
 very apparent. The mill owner drew himself up 
 proudly. 
 
 " They've made a little mistake," he said. " I'm sorry, 
 but nary cent of it can come to them." 
 
 Her face grew grave for a moment. Then she 
 laughed. 
 
 " Don't tell them that," she said. 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " For the good of we-el, the money." 
 
 " Do you think they'll get it away from me ? " 
 
 "No," she said, and the laughter broke again about 
 the corners of her eyes, though her lips were grave. 
 
 That night Frank Sharp entered unannounced. Naomi 
 had seen little of him since she helped tie up the wounded 
 arm. He had apparently not quite forgiven her for her 
 attitude on that occasion. His present visit was to her 
 brother. 
 
 "Thar's tol'rable talkin' goin' on," he said, providing 
 himself with a chair and placing it conveniently near that 
 of the mill owner. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 43 
 
 " Is that anything new ? " asked Dalbert. 
 
 "No hit hain't." 
 
 The young man sat down deliberately. 
 
 " They're say in* hit was James Low what come here 
 last night." 
 
 "They might be further from the truth," replied Dal- 
 bert. 
 
 " And they're sayin' he's done paid ye for the logs 
 we-uns have been snakin* down the mountain." 
 
 " Suppose he has ? " said Dalbert slowly, looking the 
 young man full in the face. 
 
 "Hit hain't much account to me," was the quick 
 answer. " I reckon I can du without my money. But 
 thar's them that won't." 
 
 " Your father among the number ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The tone was a little defiant. 
 
 "I met John Sharp this morning," said the mill 
 owner. "I told him, as I tell you, that if you have 
 patience, not a man of you shall lose a cent." 
 
 "/ hain't afraid of losin'," said Frank quietly. "/ 
 hain't aimin' at gittin' money aout'n ye. What I come 
 to tell ye was that you'd better look aout. The losin' 
 hain't a goin' to be all on one side." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 Dalbert had risen from his chair. 
 
 " See here, Dal ! Are you goin' to keep that money 
 in the house ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " I reckoned so," said the young man. " Hit hain't 
 Dal Mozingo that would keep ary cent for himself 
 when he owed hit to others. But if you hain't goin' to 
 keep hit, you're goin' to pay hit to somebody. How 
 much of hit's comin' to we-uns ? " 
 
 " That's my business." 
 
 " Hit hain't mine," was the answer. " I hain't 
 lookin' for none of hit. But some is." 
 
44 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "They'll not get it aout of this." 
 
 Frank Sharp rose, and faced the mill owner. 
 
 " Look here, Dal ! " he said earnestly. " Hit won't 
 du for you to tell that to ary man but me. Hit hain't 
 safe." ' 
 
 " You asked," returned Dalbert shortly. 
 
 " And you'd give the same answer to the next that 
 asked ? " 
 
 " I generally speak the truth," said the mill owner. 
 
 "Well, don't speak hit jist now," replied the other. 
 " Thar's mischief among the men. They say that 
 money's theirn, and if you rob 'em of hit, thar hain't no 
 harm in turnin' round and takin' hit." 
 
 "They'd better try," replied Dalbert, the angry blood 
 mounting to his forehead, though his voice was cold 
 and calm. 
 
 "That's what they're goin' to du." 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 The short, pertinent question rang through the room 
 in a girl's voice. Frank Sharp turned hastily. Naomi 
 stood within the door, her dark eyes looking deeper 
 than usual as she fixed them on the visitor's face. 
 
 "That's jist what I come to tell ye," said the young 
 man eagerly. 
 
 The sight of the girl had scattered his resentment to 
 the winds. He was her humble servant as soon as 
 those eyes met his. She smiled upon him. 
 
 " I thought there was something afoot, and I thought 
 I should soon hear of it," she said. 
 
 "They're goin' to wait till Saturday if you-uns don't 
 take no steps to send that money away. But if you-uns 
 goes outer this valley, they-uns '11 stop ye," explained 
 the young man. 
 
 "They wi-ill?" 
 
 The drawl upon the last word gave it a tinge of 
 satire. The young man looked at her disapprovingly. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 45 
 
 "Hit hain't no joke," he said. "They're dead in 
 earnest. Some on 'em was for comin' and makin' Dal 
 pay up to-night ; but thar's lots on 'em hain't willin' to 
 go so fur. They'd stand by ye if the rest warn't so 
 plumb set." 
 
 "How many are the rest?" she asked, her voice 
 grave again. 
 
 "More 'n half the men," he said. "Hit's luekin' 
 serious, Naomi." 
 
 "What '11 they do if Dal chooses to ride away to- 
 morrow ? " she asked. 
 
 " Go atter him, and stop him." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " I don't know. I guess " 
 
 . He got no further. The girl's hand was laid on his 
 arm. His eyes sought and then followed hers until 
 they came to the mill owner's face. It was hard and 
 cold, but the eyes shone with a light that was not pleas- 
 ant to see. 
 
 "The men are crazy," said Naomi. "They'll not get 
 the better of Dal, and they'll never be the worse for 
 him if they don't spoil everything by their foolish inter- 
 fering. It's stifling in here," she added. " It's a right 
 smart hotter to-day than it's been any day this spring. 
 Come outside, Frank." 
 
 Frank Sharp was not the only man who sought the 
 mill owner's house that evening. But Frank Sharp was 
 the only man who saw the mill owner. 
 
 More than one of the most determined among the 
 workers essayed to have a talk with Dalbert, and failed. 
 The object of each was the same, to secure all, or part 
 of the money coming to him. It was quite late that 
 night before Naomi Mozingo decided that it was cool 
 enough to retire indoors. She had long ago sent Frank 
 Sharp away ; but she had had quite an earnest little talk 
 with him first, and when they parted, her hand rested 
 
46 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 somewhat longer than usual in the uninjured member 
 that Frank extended to clasp it. 
 
 Just how each and all of these would-be callers were 
 prevented from entering the house, possibly only Naomi 
 knew. Some went away swearing, and some laughing ; 
 but they all went away, and they all threatened that 
 "they'd have hit aout with Dal in the mornin', whatever 
 Naomi might say." 
 
 "We-ell, the sooner that money reaches its destina- 
 tion, the better." 
 
 Naomi had rather carefully fastened the doors and 
 drawn down the curtains before she spoke. It was an 
 hour when the mountain side was usually asleep, but 
 she was disposed to run no risks. 
 
 " I'm going with it to-morrow," said Dal. 
 
 "Whereto?" 
 
 " Jellico. I can send it by mail from there." 
 
 " And what if they stop you ? " 
 
 His eyes significantly sought a pistol with which his 
 fingers were toying. He had been cleaning and load- 
 ing it. 
 
 The girl's gaze rested on it too. 
 
 " If you have to use that, Dal, promise me it shall not 
 be until the last moment," she said. 
 
 He looked at her in some surprise. Fear was not a 
 prominent characteristic of Naomi Mozingo. 
 
 " I would not use it at all," he said, " if the interest of 
 another were not at stake. That five hundred dollars 
 must be got to Rogers. The men can be paid later. 
 It's now or never with him." 
 
 "Yes it must go to him," she said thoughtfully. 
 Then, after a moment's silence : " Well, fight like a fury 
 if you like, but don't bring that thing aout till you 
 can't push on a step further. I reckon it's getting pow- 
 erful late," she added. " We'd better be going to bed. 
 What time are you aimin' to start in the morning ? " 
 
VISITING THE SIN 47 
 
 " Early," he said. " I'd go to-night, but I'll not let 
 them say I sneaked off in the dark for fear of any man." 
 
 " It's not a handful of mountain men that will ever 
 have the chance to boast that they got Dalbert Mozingo 
 aout of his bed before his usual hour," replied the girl, 
 scornfully. " There '11 be a sight of time to go to Jellico 
 between breakfast and sundown. Let the men get to 
 their work first. Then you can ride off quietly. They'll 
 not need to be told that you are going aout of the 
 valley." 
 
 Dalbert Mozingo did not know how should he ? 
 that John Sharp, the father of his evening visitor, had 
 taken steps to assure himself that none went out of the 
 mill owner's house between evening and day dawn with- 
 out his knowledge. What Naomi knew she did not tell. 
 
 " There, go to bed ! It's getting powerful late," she 
 said, breaking in on the young man's meditations some 
 thirty minutes later. 
 
 A directed letter lay by his side. Naomi lifted it, and 
 weighed it for a moment in her hand. 
 
 " You'll not want the money till you get to Jellico," 
 she said. " Better not put it in here or in your purse 
 either. I'll do it up in a separate packet for you. Then, 
 if there should be any fighting," 
 
 "It's safe enough where it is," he answered wearily. 
 
 " Perhaps. But I shall feel easier when you're gone if 
 I know I tied it up myself. I'll get it all ready for the 
 morning." 
 
 He looked at her sharply. 
 
 " Do you think I'm not capable of taking care of it to- 
 night ? " he asked. 
 
 " Do I think you go off at less than nothing, like a 
 double charge of gunpowder ? " she retorted. " You can 
 keep the package where you like. But it will be safer 
 to make a package than to carry the money loose in your 
 purse. It would not so easily be found. For the rest, 
 you can please yourself." 
 
48 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 She held out her hand for the money, and he gave it 
 to her. 
 
 " Now go to bed," she said. 
 
 But she was not a bit surprised, when the package was 
 made up, to find him walking backwards and forwards 
 across his room. She came inside, and laid a small par- 
 cel on the table that served as washstand. 
 
 "There's your package," she said. "And you need 
 not put a pistol beside it. I'm not looking for a raid on 
 the house to-night." 
 
 He did not smile. He was thinking of the morrow, 
 and of the possibility that the honourable keeping of an 
 engagement that had never looked more binding than it 
 did to-night, would lead to difficulties more serious than 
 any he had yet encountered. It was not fear that kept 
 Dalbert Mozingo wakeful that night ; or, rather, it was 
 the fear of shedding blood. The danger to himself was 
 a secondary consideration. 
 
 He did not think he slept ; and yet his ear must have 
 been less alert than usual that it did not hear a light 
 footstep pass his door, nor the click of the outside latch. 
 Perhaps the step was unusually noiseless, and the touch 
 upon the door-handle cautious. Perhaps he had grown 
 drowsy, for it was at that earliest hour of dawn before 
 the birds have fairly awakened when the weariness of 
 a long night's waking has not yet been overcome by the 
 stimulating light of day. 
 
 It was earlier than usual when Dalbert Mozingo came 
 out into the sunlight, his face showing signs of his 
 night's unrest. Naomi was in the kitchen. She called 
 to him as he passed. 
 
 " I fed Charley and Duke, and turned them aout for 
 a run," she said. " You won't want Charley till after 
 breakfast. There '11 be less suspicion if both horses are 
 running loose." 
 
 She had come to the door, and the last words were 
 spoken in a low tone. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 49 
 
 " I don't care what they suspect," said her brother, 
 impatiently. "It will not remain suspicion long." 
 
 "Don't you?" she answered. "There is such a 
 thing as prudence." 
 
 She turned away, and went into the dining-room. 
 
 The men were moving betimes. They had failed to 
 see the mill owner over night. There were some who 
 promised themselves better success this morning. Not 
 all those who strolled towards the dining-hall while the 
 sun was a comparatively new arrival were reckoned 
 among Naomi's regular boarders. It was not breakfast 
 that possessed the chief drawing power this morning. 
 
 Naomi was to all appearance hospitably inclined. 
 She came to the door, and greeted the intruders. 
 
 " Come in, all of you that are hungry," she called. 
 " We can find room for a tolerable few over and above 
 them that eat here reg'lar." 
 
 " Whar's Dal ? " asked more than one gruff voice. 
 
 "Dal? In the house, I guess. He'll be along for 
 breakfast." 
 
 Possibly none but Naomi knew just the difficulties 
 she had surmounted in persuading her brother to put 
 off the encounter until after the early meal. 
 
 " What's the use of delay ? " he asked irritably. " It 
 has got to come to a fight between us ; and the sooner, 
 the better." 
 
 " It shall not come before breakfast if I can prevent 
 it," replied his sister ; and it did not. 
 
 " Come right in," she called peremptorily, standing in 
 the doorway, a presence that not even a troop of angry 
 mountaineers could overlook, and that few of them 
 could disregard. "Don't tell me you've eat already. 
 Nary one of you will be the worse for an extra snack, 
 seeing you all turned aout so early." 
 
 They looked at her sullenly and sheepishly, and then 
 the majority of them sauntered into the dining-hall. 
 
50 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 When Dalbert came in at the rear door there was a 
 sudden halt in the business of finding seats. Voices 
 grew loud, and more than one man advanced towards 
 the mill owner. 
 
 Dalbert Mozingo looked ready to meet the attack. 
 His face was paler than usual, but it would have taken 
 not a little self-complacency for any there to imagine 
 that he had inspired the mill owner with fear. He 
 began to speak, raising his voice to make it heard above 
 the others ; but Naomi rapped sharply on the table. 
 
 "I reckon I'm mistress he-ere," she said, slowly and 
 distinctly, "and I'll not have eating and talking going 
 on together. Eat your victuals, and stop your questions. 
 When you're through with eating, there '11 be time 
 enough to quarrel, and you may do as much of it as 
 you've a mind to. Sit right down, every man of you, 
 for there's nary one in these mountains shall keep my 
 breakfast waiting." 
 
 They obeyed her, and she rewarded them with a 
 breakfast a little more liberal than that which was every 
 morning set upon her table. The hands of the clock 
 pointed to seven before the meal was over. Naomi 
 glanced significantly towards them. 
 
 " Go and ring the bell, Mance," she ordered. " Eat- 
 ing is good enough in its place, but it don't pay after 
 seven by the clock." 
 
 " Hit hain't no use ringin' the bell. We-all have got 
 to have a word with Dal," said one of the visitors em- 
 phatically, his tall, powerful figure rising with threatening 
 haste from the table. 
 
 " Say away. I'm ready to hear," replied the mill 
 owner. 
 
 " Let them squabble as long as they like," whispered 
 Naomi, as she passed her brother. " They '11 not try 
 violence here. There's too many on your side. The 
 danger's when you get well aout of the valley. I know 
 
VISITING THE SIN 51 
 
 that for a certainty. Put it off as long as possible. I 
 have a reason for wishing it." 
 
 She passed him, and went out, leaving Texas to clear 
 the table. They were all too much engrossed in the 
 dispute that immediately began to notice that she went 
 round to the back of the dwelling, and was presently 
 climbing a narrow path leading into the recesses of the 
 mountain. While yet the argument waxed hot within 
 the dining-hall, and Dalbert sought by patience and firm- 
 ness to convince the men that, while he was unable to 
 meet their demands, his intentions towards them were 
 honest, the girl, hot and breathless, sprang into a shel- 
 tered hollow of the hills, where two horses were quietly 
 feeding. 
 
 " Here you are, my beauties ! " she said softly. 
 " Gently, Duke, gently ! " 
 
 This to the foremost animal, that came trotting 
 towards her, his neck outstretched and his ears working 
 excitedly. 
 
 It was little wonder the girl knew just where to seek 
 the horses. She herself had led them hither not many 
 hours before. She went confidently to an overhanging 
 rock, and, stooping down, drew out saddle and bridle. 
 Then, putting her hand on the neck of the nearer horse, 
 she spoke to him softly. 
 
 " Come, Duke, we have work before us," she said. 
 "No, Charley," as the other came jealously up, "you 
 must stay here. Your master will want you later." 
 
 It took but a few moments to saddle the horse, then 
 for an instant the girl's eyes looked into his. 
 
 " Now put your best foot foremost," she said. " You're 
 as good as a goat for scrambling and climbing. To-day 
 you must aout-do yourself. Swift and sure, my beauty. 
 A false step may do more than break your own pretty 
 neck." 
 
 She guided him out from between the rocks, sprang 
 
52 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 on his back, and a minute later was climbing where 
 neither roadway nor bridle-path told of the possibility of 
 ascending. 
 
 Great rocks broke in sheer, wall-like precipices down 
 towards the valley. Skirting around them, the girl and 
 the horse gradually wound their way up. The animal 
 deserved the praise she had given him. He clung to 
 the rocky ledges as sure-footed as a mountain goat. 
 Now and then the voice of his mistress urged him on. 
 
 It was a rough road and a short one. Not more than 
 twenty minutes from the time the girl's foot pressed the 
 stirrup the daring little horse scrambled up a break-neck 
 slope, and placed his hoofs on the sod above. 
 
 " Well done, Duke ! We're on top now." 
 
 The girl lifted her head, and drew a deep breath of 
 relief. A long, almost level stretch of mountain summit 
 was before her. 
 
 "Now, my pretty, do your best," she said. "It ain't 
 going to take yo-ou long to cover four miles of this." 
 
 She bent over the horse, speaking the words almost 
 into his ear, her hand at the same moment giving the 
 glossy neck a gentle slap. The animal started, tossed 
 his head, and was away, his feet flying over the turf. 
 
 " Gently, Duke ! Look aout for rocks," said Naomi. 
 
 Once, as they drew out into an open space where the 
 valley she had left was in full view below her, the girl 
 turned and looked down. A peculiar smile was on her 
 lips. 
 
 " I wonder how soon they'll be fighting down there 
 for nothing," she said, in her low, musical drawl. 
 
 Then she laughed, and her face clouded. 
 
 " They might fight it aout as long as they'd a mind 
 to, but there's Dal," she said, and stopped. 
 
 The next moment Duke felt an impatient tap on his 
 neck. 
 
 " Faster ! " said his mistress imperiously ; and a spurt 
 from the willing horse answered touch and voice. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 53 
 
 Naomi drew rein where a bridle-path, steep and rocky, 
 showed a way down into the valley on the other side of 
 the mountain. 
 
 " Now gently ! Slow and sure," she said, and gave 
 all her attention to the descent, that presently brought 
 her into a tiny hamlet lying tucked in between the 
 hills. 
 
 " Howdy," said Naomi, in a matter-of-fact tone, as she 
 entered the building that served as post-office and vil- 
 lage store. 
 
 She noted the mail carrier waiting for his bag. 
 
 "I thought I should be just in time," she said, draw- 
 ing a bulky letter from her pocket. " I calculated the 
 mail would be about sta-arting." 
 
 "It's powerful lucky you warn't too late," said the 
 postmistress, handling the letter curiously, and then 
 affixing the official stamp. " I was jist gittin' 'em ready 
 to go. Want ary thing to-day ? " 
 
 " No, get your mail off first. I don't recollect any- 
 thing I want," said Naomi. "I'll just wait and think." 
 
 And she did wait, while the bag was slowly locked 
 and handed to the carrier. Then, when she had seen 
 him mount his horse and ride splashing along the bed 
 of the brook that answered for a main road through the 
 hamlet, she suddenly decided that she was in need of no 
 article from the store to-day. 
 
 " I'll be getting back," she said. " There's a sight to 
 be done with so many men about." 
 
 " Had some trouble up your way, hain't ye ? " asked 
 the postmistress, curiously. 
 
 Naomi looked at her for a moment, and then laughed. 
 
 " Depends on what you call trouble," she said. "If 
 men want to shoot, it's powerful unreasonable to say 
 they sha'n't. If they're satisfied I don't see who has a 
 right to grumble. " 
 
 Then she mounted and was gone, the loose stones 
 flying from beneath Duke's feet, 
 
54 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "Now for the other half of the performance," she 
 whispered, while a light shone in her eyes, and died out 
 again for the fear that took its place. Naomi was 
 thinking of her brother. 
 
 Dalbert himself was at the moment riding along a 
 mountain road easy and safe compared with that by 
 which Naomi had come. The packet his sister had 
 tied so carefully the night before was hidden away in 
 an inner pocket. He was later than he had expected to 
 be, yet he was riding slowly. 
 
 If the men whose angry demands for money had 
 delayed him long had hoped to play upon the fears of 
 the mill owner, they had found themselves mistaken. 
 Dalbert' s lips were pressed together, and there was as 
 much anger as determination in his bearing. The hand 
 that held the reins held them firmly, and checked rather 
 than hastened the speed of the animal. 
 
 Dalbert was fully alive to the danger of being way- 
 laid, but, whatever feelings were uppermost at the 
 moment, personal fear was not among them. His 
 energies were concentrated upon the carrying out of his 
 purpose. That five hundred dollars must reach Jellico 
 before night, should reach Jellico, if he fought every 
 inch of the ground between. The mountain town was 
 a central point for the country round. From it his let- 
 ter would safely reach its destination. But the young 
 man did not delude himself into the belief that the ride 
 to Jellico would be of an uneventful nature. The 
 threats, half-veiled, with which the men had met his 
 refusal to devote a large part of the money he had 
 received to the payment of their wages, had been very 
 clearly understood. When the arguments, which had 
 been of the nature of demands, had ended in the sud- 
 den withdrawal of the men to their work, he had realized 
 that the cessation of hostilities was to be attributed to 
 the presence of wiser heads among them, of men who 
 
VISITING THE SIN 55 
 
 saw the inadvisability of pushing things to extremities, 
 and who had a following quite as large as that of the 
 malcontents. The dispute was ended for the moment ; 
 but the strongest argument the resort to force 
 was yet to come. Frank Sharp had intimated to Naomi 
 that the policy of the more extreme section was to 
 attempt violence only at such time as they could be 
 sure of coming upon the mill owner when unsupported 
 by his friends, and Frank Sharp knew. His father was 
 among the dissatisfied. 
 
 " They will hardly venture to make it a case of high- 
 way robbery," thought Dalbert ; "and if they do try 
 it" 
 
 A hard smile played for a moment about his lips. It 
 went as quickly as it came. Where was the room even 
 for the satisfaction of anger in a question that presented 
 two wrong sides and not a right ? If he had to fight, it 
 would be in the interest of a man who had a perfect 
 right to the money. Ay, but it would be against men 
 who had an equal right. Why should they not insist on 
 payment, and that at once? Why should they let 
 money that they had earned go out of their reach, while 
 they waited for that which, being in the future, might 
 never come? Supposing they did waylay him, who 
 would be the most guilty of robbery, the man who was 
 carrying off the proceeds of other men's labour or those 
 who in ignorant rage took that which ought to have 
 been their own ? He drew himself up in self -scorn. 
 
 "It's a nice distinction by which means I shall 
 prove myself the greater defrauder," he mused; "and 
 yet Will Rogers would be the biggest loser, and he 
 shall have the money, come what may." 
 
 What might come did come, and that before long. 
 The mill owner was nearing a point at which the road 
 approached the stream, widening out towards a grassy 
 stretch, laurel-edged, where the rocky bank dipped 
 
56 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 sharply down to the water. At this spot two or three 
 mountain paths converged. It was a convenient place 
 for rendezvous, and as he reached the trees and came 
 in sight of it, Dalbert was not surprised to see a group 
 of horsemen there before him. 
 
 " They have lost no time," he muttered, his lips falling 
 again into a cold smile. 
 
 He rode forward. 
 
 "How now?" he asked peremptorily. "Why have 
 you left your work ? " 
 
 His words were addressed to men in his own employ. 
 There were others there who, like Frank Sharp's father, 
 were not workers at the mill or the chopping, but to 
 whom he was in debt for timber cut on their land. Not 
 a man in the group but had a right to lay his hand on 
 the mill owner's bridle, and demand payment of his 
 claim. 
 
 " You know what we-uns have come for." 
 
 The speaker was John Sharp. He wheeled his horse 
 across the road in front of the mill owner. 
 
 " Do I ? " The words rang out loud and clear, with no 
 trace of anxiety in the voice. " I know what your action 
 looks like; but I'm slow to believe that the men of 
 Cedar Fork have descended to highway robbery." 
 
 " Robbery do you-uns call hit ? " demanded a work- 
 man. "Thar hain't no robbery abaout hit. Hain't a 
 man a ri-ight to his own ? That money you've got in 
 your pocket's ourn. We-all have worked for hit fair and 
 honest. If thar's any thievin', hits them that robs hon- 
 est workin' men that's the thieves." 
 
 " I have told you before that you're not going to lose 
 a cent if you have patience," said Dalbert sharply. 
 "What more can I say? This money belongs to 
 another. If it were not so, you should not have to ask 
 twice. As it stands, I could not give the money to you 
 and remain an honest man." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 57 
 
 " I've never beared that a man could remain anything 
 but what he was," sneered John Sharp. " You hain't 
 a-goin' to remain an honest man till you're an honest 
 man to begin with. Thar hain't no honesty in takin' 
 what belongs to we-uns clar outer the valley. I say hit 
 hain't no stealin* to stop that sort of honesty." 
 
 "That's so, John," broke in another. "Stealin's 
 takin' what don't belong to you. Hain't that so? 
 And don't the money Dai's got in his pocket belong to 
 we-all ? Then hit hain't no stealin' to take hit, is hit ?" 
 
 There was a general murmur of assent, broken in 
 upon by the voice of the mill owner. 
 
 " You may think you have a claim on this money," he 
 said, "but the law acknowledges no man's right to lay 
 violent hands on what is in the possession of another, 
 however much he may think himself aggrieved." 
 
 " The law ! " interrupted a strong, derisive voice. 
 " Thar's law in Cedar Fork, but hit hain't the fool law 
 of the courts ; and as for possession, we can soon put 
 hit on the right side." 
 
 There was a loud laugh at the sally. 
 
 "Hit's this way, Dal," said a great, rough-visaged 
 mountain man, pushing his horse to the mill owner's 
 side. " We-all have tried fair words, and come off the 
 losers every time. We hain't aimin' to try no sort of 
 words any longer. That money's ourn. We-all are 
 goin' to take hit. Hain't that so ? " 
 
 He turned to the others as he spoke. 
 
 "That's abaout hit," came the answer from many 
 voices. 
 
 " Not so fast," said Dalbert, coolly pointing his pistol 
 at the speaker. " Stir a ringer, and you are a dead 
 man." 
 
 But while he spoke, he saw the glitter of half a dozen 
 pistols, and more than one gun was made to cover him 
 effectually 
 
58 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Dal ! You don't stand a mite of 
 chance," said a mountaineer, with gruff good-nature. 
 " We-all don't want to hurt you, but you've got to give 
 up that money." 
 
 The mill owner turned his face towards the speaker. 
 It was white and hard. 
 
 "When Dalbert Mozingo gives you that money to 
 save himself, call him a coward!" he said, in a voice 
 that rang across the mountain road and out upon the 
 stretch of hillside above. 
 
 The sound of his words had not died away before it 
 was followed by a sharp report. The bullet flew wide. 
 Pefhaps it was intended that it should. 
 
 Dalbert looked towards the spot from which it came. 
 His own weapon was raised, and his finger on the 
 trigger. The moment for which he had prepared him- 
 self had come, the moment when it was necessary to 
 shoot, and to shoot to kill. 
 
 Not quite. Before that answering pressure which 
 would turn the argument into a deadly conflict was 
 made, there came a second report from far above the 
 heads of any of the group. It had the effect of divert- 
 ing the attention of the combatants, and, once alive to 
 outside influences, every man heard the sound of hoofs 
 coming on at a mad gallop. A minute later every man 
 had the chance to hear a girl's voice, a well-managed, 
 far-reaching voice, that spoke to be heard. 
 
 " Are you fools to fight for nothing ? " 
 
 She came in sight almost as the words reached their 
 ears, her horse tearing down a narrow path to the high- 
 way. 
 
 " You here, Naomi ? This is n' place for you," cried 
 Dalbert. 
 
 She rode straight through the group to his side, none 
 attempting to stop her. 
 
 " Why should I not be here ? " she asked, in a tone 
 that could be heard by all. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 59 
 
 It was not Dalbert who answered. 
 
 " You'd better go back, Naomi. We've got a little 
 account to settle with Dal, and we're goin' to settle 
 hit." 
 
 Naomi turned on the speaker. 
 
 " Settle away," she said sharply. " I'll stay to see 
 fair play." 
 
 " Naomi, this is folly. You must go. I will not have 
 you here. What good can you do ? Don't you see that 
 you are hampering me ? " 
 
 Dalbert spoke in a low, irritated voice. She smiled, 
 her face close to his. 
 
 "I know what I'm about better than you do," she 
 said. 
 , Then she turned to the men. 
 
 " Come, say on," she invited. " I'm not here to spoil 
 sport." 
 
 " No, and you hain't goin' to spoil hit." 
 
 It was John Sharp who spoke. He took care not to 
 meet her eye. 
 
 " Come on," he added, turning to the others. " We- 
 all cain't wait here all day. We're goin' to take what's 
 ourn, and that's all thar is abaout hit. " 
 
 They began to close in. Naomi watched them quietly, 
 keeping close to her brother's side. 
 
 " I shall be sorry to be the first to shoot," said Dal- 
 bert. " But unless you make a way for my sister and 
 myself to pass, I shall be bound to consider it a case of 
 assault with intent to rob. I warn you I shall consider 
 myself justified in using this." 
 
 The pistol was again in evidence. So were those of 
 the other men. 
 
 Suddenly Dalbert felt the pistol snatched from his 
 grasp, and was hardly in time to see it hurled far up on 
 the hillside. The next moment Naomi's followed it. 
 
 " Naomi, how dare you ? " 
 
60 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 He turned upon her savagely. She only smiled. 
 
 " Now will you shoot an unarmed man ? " she cried, 
 flashing a pair of scornful eyes on the Cedar Fork men. 
 
 " We don't want to shoot. Hit's his own look aout. 
 We-all want that money, and we're a-goin' to have hit ; 
 but we don't want to hurt him." 
 
 The speaker's voice was sullen. 
 
 "Give me my pistol. I'm ready to fight it aout with 
 you," cried Dalbert, in a white heat of passion. " I ask 
 favour of no man." 
 
 " Stop a minute," said Naomi calmly. " Nary one of 
 you knows what he's talking about. Now then, let's 
 understand one another. You ask for what ? " 
 
 " The money Dai's got in his pocket." 
 
 "You shall have it." 
 
 "Naomi!" 
 
 She had never seen such a look on her brother's face 
 before, but she met it with a cool smile. 
 
 "You shall have it," she repeated. 
 
 "Ay, but we-uns hain't foolin'," said one of the men. 
 " We mean all the money he's got abaout him in ary 
 place." 
 
 "And I'm not fooling either," she said, looking them 
 squarely in the face. " You shall have every cent that 
 Dal and I have on our persons. Will that satisfy you ? " 
 
 " I guess hit will," said one* of them. 
 
 " Naomi, are you mad ? " asked Dalbert, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 " No, but you are with passion," she said. " Do as 
 I tell you. I'm no fool." 
 
 " You are a coward," he said scornfully. 
 
 "Ami?" 
 
 Her eyes flashed, but they laughed too. 
 
 "Dal wants to fight it aout," she said, glancing 
 towards the men. " He doesn't know, any more than 
 you, that there's nothing to fight about. We're about 
 
VISITING THE SIN 61 
 
 as poor as Job Dal and I to-day. All we've got 
 wouldn't count up to ten dollars ; but what there is you 
 may have, if it will help you any. Come and take it, 
 one of you. It don't need a dozen to carry it." 
 
 " Move aside, Naomi, and let me recover that pistol," 
 said Dalbert softly. " This is worse than folly." 
 
 "You shall have it later," she said, keeping her 
 horse between him and the hill. " Don't crowd so close 
 on Duke. He's getting excited." 
 
 So were the men. They came pressing nearer. 
 
 " Look here ! We-uns want that money what Jim Low 
 paid Dal yesterday. He's got hit, and we're goin' to 
 have hit." 
 
 "You'll be powerful smart if you get tha-at," she 
 said, with a long drawl on the last word. " That money 
 has left Cedar Fork valley, my friends. It has been 
 paid to the man who had the first claim on it." 
 
 Nobody stared at her harder than Dalbert. There 
 was a dead silence. It was broken by John Sharp. 
 
 " You cain't fool we-uns so. * Dal never went outer 
 this valley last night, for I watched the house myself." 
 
 "Is that so ? " asked Naomi. " It was a pity you had 
 your labour for nothing. No, Dal did not go aout of 
 the valley last night." 
 
 " Then how did the money go ? I should like to 
 know that. John Sharp ain't no fool." 
 
 " No-o ? " she said slowly. " And you would like to 
 know how it went. Well I took it." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " Yes. It was not heavy." 
 
 " Naomi, what do you mean ? " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 The two questions were simultaneous. She ignored 
 Dalbert's, and answered that of the men. 
 
 " When ? While you were quarrelling with Dal. Do 
 you know how much time you've wasted over this 
 
62 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 wrangling ? You began at seven. Look at the sun. 
 How far is it from noon ? " 
 
 She pointed upwards as she spoke. 
 
 All eyes followed her glance. A curse or two, not 
 loud, but deep, made answer. 
 
 " Thar's only your word for hit." 
 
 John Sharp had returned to the attack. 
 
 " Yes, there is. You can search Dai's pockets. He'll 
 let you, since you have dared to call his sister a liar." 
 
 " Did you fool him as well as us-all, or are you-uns 
 both foolin' we-uns ? " 
 
 The man who spoke looked suspiciously from brother 
 to sister. 
 
 " I guess I fooled the lot of you." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Dalbert has a precious package hidden away some- 
 where," she continued. " He was prepared to sell his 
 life for it. He will perhaps be willing to let you see it 
 now. It should have contained the money James Low 
 paid yesterday. I have told you that money is in the 
 United States' mail-bag. Dal, give them your purse 
 and that parcel." 
 
 The face that he turned towards her was still white 
 with anger. 
 
 " I know as little as the rest what you mean," he said. 
 " I have vowed to carry that package safely to Jellico. 
 I wish you would go home." 
 
 " Give up the package," she said in a low tone. " Do 
 you take me for a liar ? " 
 
 " I don't know what to take you for," he replied. 
 
 For answer she suddenly thrust her hand into the 
 inner pocket where she knew it was most likely he had 
 placed the package. 
 
 " There ! " she said, tossing the packet towards the 
 group of hesitating men. " That is the parcel for which 
 he would have risked his life. Open it, one of you." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 63 
 
 A man stooped from his saddle, and grasped the 
 little packet. It was carefully tied ; and as his clumsy 
 fingers fumbled at and then broke the string, all eyes 
 were upon him. A few slips of paper, of the size and 
 shape of bills, rewarded his efforts. He tossed them 
 loose in the wind. 
 
 "Do you want my purse and Dalbert's?" asked 
 Naomi coolly. 
 
 A savage oath was the answer. 
 
 "Come, Dal. There's no object in going to Jellico 
 to-day," said Naomi. "I've mailed your money safely. 
 You can send your letter another time. I wrote a few 
 words of explanation. 
 
 He looked at her, and then at the men. 
 
 "I suppose it's no use explaining that I knew as 
 little of this as you did," he said. " My sister was try- 
 ing to save me from danger. A man is hardly grateful 
 for that kind of care." 
 
 " Oh, I guess you've been abaout as well fooled as the 
 rest of us by that witch gal," replied one of the party 
 scornfully. 
 
 " Take care ! " said Dalbert menacingly. 
 
 "Oh, let them say what they like," interposed Naomi. 
 " Hard names won't kill. Besides, you are too angry 
 with me to act as my defender." This in an under- 
 tone. 
 
 " How can I be other than angry ? " he said. 
 
 " You couldn't. I don't expect it. But you may as 
 well come now. I'm getting tired." 
 
 He looked down at her. A tender light was warring 
 with the anger in his eyes. 
 
 " I rode over the mountain where even Duke took me 
 at the risk of his life," she said. " Duke deserves to 
 get back and rest." 
 
 " The risk of Duke's life ? How about yours ? " he 
 asked. 
 
64 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "That doesn't count," she said, and laughed. 
 
 The laugh was a little tremulous. 
 
 " Well, my men, will you go back to work ? I did 
 not mean to trick you; but in any case the money 
 could not have been yours. I can, however, safely 
 promise that the next shall be divided among you." 
 
 Dalbert spoke calmly, quietly facing the stormy group. 
 
 " You have lost the chance to be highway robbers," 
 he continued. " On the whole, I think I am glad. I 
 might have lost my life, but I should certainly have 
 taken that of some one else." 
 
 Then he turned his horse's head to ride back to the 
 mill. 
 
 "Stop a minute," said Naomi. "It is a pity to lose 
 two good pistols." 
 
 She rode coolly up the hillside, dismounted, and picked 
 up the weapons. Then she rejoined Dalbert. No one 
 attempted to stop them as the brother and sister rode 
 back to the mill. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 65 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE mill-wheels were idle. There was no work 
 for them to do. Mrs. Sutton moved her chair from 
 the hearth to the window to gloat over the long, 
 silent mill, the roof of which was a strong aid to her 
 imagination in realizing the feelings of the mill owner as 
 he stood in its empty spaces. 
 
 " Dal Mozingo may set and gnaw his finger nails for 
 want of some better payin' business," she growled. " Hit 
 hain't powerful unlikely he'll soon have nothin' else to 
 gnaw. Him and his sister can starve for all Cedar 
 Fork '11 work for 'em ary more. I'd be proud to see 'em 
 laid as low as my man and my young un." 
 
 Cedar Fork had come to a decision. Since the pro- 
 ceeds of their labour had been sent out of the valley, the 
 men would work no more for Dalbert Mozingo. There 
 were some who doubted the wisdom of the determina- 
 tion. If they had been free to follow their own judg- 
 ment, they would have kept at work until the mill owner 
 could clear himself of his difficulties. They were not 
 too much blinded by passion to see that their loss was 
 coincident with his. But their lot was cast in Cedar 
 Fork valley, and life in Cedar Fork valley was not un- 
 complicated. A man might differ from his neighbours 
 there, as elsewhere, but, on a subject on which Cedar 
 Fork felt strongly, for a man to differ from his neigh- 
 bours to the point of upsetting their plans was a little 
 risky. 
 
 "We-uns have got to live here," said Frank Sharp 
 apologetically. "They-all have decided you-uns hain't 
 goin' to run the mill till they-all have been paid. / know 
 
66 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 they're fools ; but hit hain't no good to say so, and any- 
 how one cain't work if the rest stop." 
 
 The young man had been one of the few whose mules 
 had been kept working until the trees already felled 
 were sawed and taken out of the valley. No more were 
 cut down. Dalbert understood that his operations in 
 Cedar Fork valley were ended. 
 
 " They might have given me a chance to pay them," 
 he said bitterly. 
 
 It tried him sorely that they were putting it beyond 
 his power to keep his promise to them forcing him to 
 fail in his compact because they had made up their 
 minds he could not succeed. 
 
 "There's one comfort, they'll take the consequences 
 of their folly," Naomi said vindictively. 
 
 It was no comfort to Dalbert. He would have cared 
 less for the loss to himself if he could have had the satis- 
 faction of knowing that he was the only loser. 
 
 " They will perhaps acknowledge their stupidity when 
 they handle my money," he said. 
 
 His one object was to get away and earn enough to 
 pay all claims. He would have moved mill and ma- 
 chinery to some other part, and started afresh, but the 
 moving would cost more than it was possible for him to 
 command at present. This like the paying of the debts 
 lay in the future, only it was a more remote future 
 than the other in his calculations. Naomi was of another 
 mind. 
 
 " Let them wait till you have set yourself on your feet 
 again," she said. " If they get their wages some day, it 
 is more than they deserve. Go away and earn enough 
 to send for the machinery. Afterwards, when you have 
 worked things clear, it will be time enough to think of 
 them." 
 
 He made her no answer, but she knew him too well 
 to take his silence for assent. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 67 
 
 " He'd send them the last cent if he knew he should 
 starve the next day," she said. 
 
 There were changes already at the mill owner's house. 
 Texas had been sent home, and the house was very still. 
 
 " I can do all that is wanted for me and Dal," Naomi 
 said. " When the mill is not running, I want no help." 
 
 More than one among the friendly section of the val- 
 ley women came in to condole with the mill owner's sis- 
 ter, and incidentally to see what they could see and hear 
 what they could hear. Neither eyes nor ears were fully 
 enlightened. None had reason to , complain of want 
 of friendliness on Naomi's part. She showed no over- 
 sensitiveness on the subject of her brother's difficulties, 
 discussing the question freely enough with her visitors, 
 but whenever one such added to her store of knowl- 
 edge it was because Naomi distinctly desired that the 
 addition should be made. 
 
 If every visitor did not go away satisfactorily enlight- 
 ened, it was not for lack of direct questions. Those 
 whose attitude had left them on visiting terms at the 
 house felt themselves at an advantage. The other part 
 of the community had to depend on them for informa- 
 tion. They did not neglect their opportunities, but the 
 outcome of the opportunities was not all that they could 
 have desired. Such as it was, however, they made the 
 most of it. 
 
 "Is Dal goin' to stay here foolin* round the mill ? " 
 asked one of the opposite party. 
 
 "I hain't sure," replied the neighbour addressed. 
 " My woman was in thar yesterday, and Naomi said they 
 warn't aimin' to lose time more 'n was necessary. If the 
 mill didn't run no more, thar warn't no good waitin' 
 round." 
 
 " The mill won't run no more : we-uns '11 take care o' 
 that," said the other, grimly. 
 
 " Dal hain't cut down all the trees on John Sharp's 
 
68 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 lot yit," responded the neighbour reflectively. " My 
 Will seed him up thar yesterday. Maybe he's goin' at 
 hit agin." 
 
 "He won't cut no more trees on John Sharp's land, 
 not if he did buy 'em," was the answer. " I reckon 
 thar hain't no buyin' whar thar hain't no payin'. John 
 Sharp '11 fix hi-im if he tries cuttin* on his land." 
 
 One or two of the enemy, determined to attain to 
 something definite, attacked Dalbert himself. 
 
 " What am I aimin' to do ? " responded the mill 
 owner, turning on his questioners. " Pay my debts. 
 That's what I'm aimin' to do. It won't be the fault of 
 ary one of you if you ever get a cent of your money. 
 But you'll have it, in spite of your folly. What I can't 
 earn in this valley I'll earn aout of it." 
 
 " Oh, you're goin' away, are you ? " 
 
 The question was eager. 
 
 " I'm going where I can earn enough to pay my debts, 
 whether that's here or elsewhere," said Dal, savagely. 
 
 Dalbert made more than one journey to Jellico, and 
 came back with the cloud upon his face that had become 
 habitual there of late. There was a day, however, when 
 he sprang from his horse with more haste than he had 
 shewn since the mill stopped running. 
 
 " Here, Naomi ! " he called, and tossed her a letter as 
 she reached the door. 
 
 The girl retreated into the house with her prize. 
 She even took the precaution to go into an inner room 
 before unfolding the letter. Half-friendly friends were 
 very apt to stroll in when Dalbert returned from 
 Jellico. 
 
 Naomi's eyes brightened as she read. She went 
 straight through, and returned to the heading. 
 
 " Big Creek," she said reflectively. 
 
 Then her face changed. 
 
 " Dal," she cried, forgetting caution, and going out to 
 
VISITING THE SIN 69 
 
 her brother, "it's from the place where father's last 
 letter was written." 
 
 "Yes I know," he said. 
 
 He saw that her eyes were shining. 
 
 " You are going to accept the position ? " she ques- 
 tioned. There was more than a trace of eagerness in 
 her voice. 
 
 " I should be a fool to refuse it," he replied. " It 
 will keep us, and give me the chance to put something 
 by every month. 
 
 " You had better send an answer directly," she said. 
 
 " I have sent it." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " You've lost no time about it." 
 
 " No. There was no time to lose. He wants a fore- 
 man who can be at work next week. If he does not 
 have me, he will have somebody else." 
 
 " That's sure," said Naomi. 
 
 Then, after a minute's silence. "Dal, we may learn 
 something of him." 
 
 " Yes we will try," he said. 
 
 There had not been so much animation in Dalbert's 
 manner since the shooting at the " church-house." 
 An opening out of his difficulties was appearing in 
 the shape of an opportunity to begin work again as 
 foreman of a mill in a mountain valley in Tennessee. 
 There was such a marked difference in voice and car- 
 riage that John Sharp, meeting the mill owner as he 
 turned his horse out on the mountain side, stopped and 
 stared at him. 
 
 " Goin' to start up at the mill agin ? " he asked inso- 
 lently, after that long stare. 
 
 Dalbert turned slowly round, and faced him. 
 
 " No, John Sharp ; but I'm going to work through my 
 difficulties, and come aout on the right side yet, in spite 
 of you and all Cedar Fork behind you," he said. 
 
70 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "You won't work through 'em ha-ar," retorted the 
 mountaineer, sneeringly. 
 
 " Perhaps not." 
 
 " You hain't goin' to git no more hundreds o' dollars 
 outer this valley," continued Sharp. "We-uns '11 fix 
 tha-at." 
 
 "You are right," replied Dalbert quietly. "You 
 have fixed that. But I'm going to get the hundreds all 
 the same." 
 
 " How ? " inquired the farmer, with a savage sneer. 
 
 " By going away to earn it." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 The eagerness behind the short, sharp question 
 warned the mill owner to be cautious. He looked at 
 the speaker steadily for a minute. 
 
 "When it suits my purpose," he said slowly, and 
 turned and went back to the barn. 
 
 Within the house Naomi was working swiftly and 
 hopefully. To all appearance everything was as usual, 
 but the more precious possessions were finding hiding- 
 places in box and trunk. Naomi could not trust the 
 temper of the Cedar Fork people. 
 
 Her thoughts were not all of Cedar Fork. They had 
 gone on to that gap in the Tennessee mountains sug- 
 gested by the name of Big Creek. The name was not 
 unfamiliar. Back in the earlier stretches of memory 
 it held a conspicuous place. Naomi had never seen Big 
 Creek Gap, but connected with it was the troubled time 
 which made a gulf between the old, free child-life of her 
 first memories and the years of training that led on to 
 to-day. A farm on the edge of the Kentucky mountain 
 district ; a girl and boy, regular mountaineers in minia- 
 ture; a home, large, clean, cool, and fresh with the 
 freshness of the mountain side, with law, in the person 
 of Aunt Sally, and indulgence, in the person of the 
 father himself, as conflicting rulers therein; absolute 
 
VISITING THE SIN 71 
 
 freedom from care and infinite enjoyment of life, 
 these were the elements of those earliest days. The 
 glorious hills and woods, the clear skies, and the wealth 
 of flowers, the growing cattle, and especially the young 
 mules, freer and more frolicsome than even the children 
 themselves, were some of the features of the picture 
 that belonged to those perfect days. And then came 
 Big Creek, a dawning consciousness of the possibility 
 of ill, a first apprehension that the gladness of life could 
 be snatched from the hand that grasped it. 
 
 It was only a name at the top of a letter written in 
 "father's " big, round hand, when it first became a reality 
 to Naomi and Dalbert, nothing but the name of the 
 place at which their father had arrived on his journey 
 to Georgia with a drove of mules. But when no after 
 letters came and that name became the one tangible 
 thing in a mist of doubt and fear, when the father dis- 
 appeared from the lives of the boy and girl as com- 
 pletely as if the Gap had opened its rocky walls and 
 swallowed him up, Big Creek became a place never to 
 be forgotten. 
 
 It was hard for the children to believe that this dead 
 silence, this search for information that brought only 
 disappointment, was the end of the undertaking which in 
 their estimation had involved great and splendid possi- 
 bilities. Their father had hoped for much gain from 
 his journey southward. The war between North and 
 South had begun, and mules were in request. The 
 time had not come when the passes of those mountains 
 were held first by one army and then by another. The 
 way was clear when Dalbert Mozingo, the elder, went to 
 Big Creek Gap on his road to Georgia. It was not 
 many weeks before the tide of war flowed through the 
 mountains, and swept away all trace of what had gone 
 before. The traveller was lost sight of completely. 
 Many droves of mules had passed through the Gap since 
 
72 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Dalbert Mozingo went that way. Inquiries at a com- 
 paratively early date had failed to trace him, and when 
 the passes of the Tennessee Mountains were held by 
 the Confederate army and life became a sharp struggle 
 for existence for the sympathisers with the Northern 
 cause, even Aunt Sally concluded that no more could 
 be done. She sold the farm for what it would bring, 
 and took the boy and girl to a safer place. 
 
 " I'll make sure of a good education for both on ye," 
 she said. "What the farm don't do, I will. Then 
 you'll hev to shift for yourselves." 
 
 So to the children who had known nothing but the 
 free mountain life came the knowledge that is born of 
 cities. When the brother and sister again found their 
 way to another part of the Kentucky fastnesses, few 
 would have recognised the crude little mountaineers of 
 earlier days. Many of the memories of those days had 
 faded, but the father's face was as clear as ever. 
 
 Naomi had always been "her father's girl" ; and half 
 the excitement that lurked beneath her movements 
 to-day owed its force to the thought that in Big Creek 
 Gap she might succeed, even after so many years, in 
 obtaining information about him. She was not unmind- 
 ful of present surroundings, however. 
 
 "Better keep your own counsel, Dal," she said. 
 "We're not quite sure you and the Big Creek mill 
 owner will come to an understanding, and if we were, 
 the less said, the better." 
 
 It was only two days later before they were sure. 
 Dalbert had returned from another ride to Jellico, and 
 by a peculiar coincidence had again encountered John 
 Sharp. 
 
 "He hangs round as if he thought he could gain 
 something by looking," he said angrily. 
 
 " How much more did he do than look ? " inquired 
 Naomi. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 73 
 
 " Had the impudence to ask me when I was aimin' to 
 start making the fortune that was to pay him and the 
 rest." 
 
 " And you told him what ? " 
 
 "That I might be aimin' to start sooner than he bar- 
 gained for." 
 
 Naomi did not answer for a minute. A peculiar 
 smile was on her lips. 
 
 " Better tell him to keep his questions for them that 
 will answer them," she said sharply. "The less clew 
 you give hi-im, the better." 
 
 "I should think in his heart he'd be glad to know 
 there was some chance of his getting the money," said 
 Dalbert. 
 
 "Should you? You and John Sharp haven't much 
 in common, not enough to make it possible for one to 
 judge of the other," replied Naomi. 
 
 Perhaps Lem Sutton found more within him to answer 
 to the nature of the man round whom he hung quietly 
 and persistently. Perhaps he had opportunities for 
 character study not enjoyed by Dalbert. Whatever 
 may have been the reason for his suspicions, however, 
 Lem must have had them. If he had not believed that 
 mischief was afoot, he would not have wormed his way 
 under the floor of a certain old outbuilding where John 
 Sharp's mules munched mountain hay in the winter and 
 shivered when an extra heavy gust of mountain air, 
 winter-chilled, swept through the gaps of their log 
 shelter. The boy had barely wedged himself in between 
 the earth and the floor above when rough voices were 
 heard, and four mountain farmers lounged over to the 
 log structure and propped their shoulders against it for 
 support. 
 
 " I tell you hit's abaout time we put the stopper on. 
 He's aimin' to go, and to go right smart. He's plumb 
 crazy to be off." 
 
74 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The speaker was John Sharp. His companions 
 slowly chewed the tobacco their mouths contained, and 
 with wonderful unanimity aimed spurts of juice at the 
 nearest tree. 
 
 "They're a-goin', that's sure," replied the nearest 
 lounger, shifting his shoulder to a more comfortable posi- 
 tion. "Naomi's gittin' shet of her dishes and fixin's. 
 They're a-goin'. But when ? That's the question." 
 
 " Goin', air they ? " asked John Sharp, significantly. 
 "They're aimin' to go; but goin', that's another 
 thi-ing." 
 
 " Whose fool enough to pay Naomi for her dishes ? " 
 asked a third member of the party. 
 
 "Naomi hain't lookin' for money," was the response. 
 "That hain't what she's atter. She's lettin' her fixin's 
 go to he'p pay off what Dal owes. They du say the cow 
 hain't Dai's no more, though he milks her all the same. 
 They're keepin' hit powerful quiet, but hit hain't hard 
 to guess that them that he'ped Dal saw and haul the last 
 o' them logs are goin' to git all the pickin's." 
 
 "Dal and Naomi hain't seed the end o' this valley 
 yit," said John Sharp, vindictively. 
 
 " How's that ? " asked a neighbour, leaning lazily for- 
 ward to get a view of Sharp's face. 
 
 "Thar's law in old Kentucky," said John impres- 
 sively. " We-uns don't trouble hit often, but nobody's 
 goin' to hinder we-uns usin' hit when hit answers we- 
 uns' ends." 
 
 " Law cain't make a man pay when he hain't got the 
 money," retorted the nearest lounger. 
 
 "No, hit cain't," replied John. 
 
 " Then whar's the guede o' the law to we-uns ? " 
 
 " Whar's the guede ? " replied the farmer loudly. " If 
 hit cain't he'p us, hit can hurt him. Hain't that some 
 gue-ude ? " 
 
 " I reckon," was the short, emphatic answer. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 75 
 
 How '11 hit du that, John ? " 
 
 Another mouth was cleared of tobacco juice to give 
 utterance to the question. 
 
 " How ? Hain't he fixin' to leave the State ? " 
 
 " I reckon." 
 
 " And hain't he aimin' to go without payin' his lawful 
 debts ? " 
 
 Sure." 
 
 " Then I'm goin' to stop him. The law's agin him. 
 He cain't leave this State while he's in debt, not without 
 the law stoppin' of him, and askin' him a few questions. 
 Hit '11 hinder him so-ome." 
 
 " That's so. Sure as you live, he cain't." 
 
 " No, sir. He's got to pay or stay. He's aimin' to 
 go. That's agin the law. I'll soon stop his little game." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 The tone was eager, though the voice was choked in 
 tobacco juice. 
 
 "Send the sheriff atter him, and clap him in jail. 
 Thar hain't no difficulty abaout kit? 
 
 At this juncture an ear, fitted carefully to a hole in 
 the foundation of the building, was tickled by the advent 
 of a spider of exploring tendencies. 
 
 " Ugh ! Git aout ! " 
 
 The smothered exclamation was too low to rise 
 beyond the floor. The ear was for a moment with- 
 drawn, and a hand laboriously worked its way up to 
 crush the venturesome insect. There was not much 
 superfluous room in Lem's hiding-place. 
 
 "Whe-en?" 
 
 The word, drawled out by a loud, lazy voice, was the 
 first Lem distinguished when his ear was at liberty to 
 resume its ordinary occupation. 
 
 "Mighty soon. Thar hain't no sense losin' time. 
 Dal and that gal's fooled we-uns onct. They hain't 
 goin' to du hit agin. They hain't goin' to find hit so 
 
76 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 plumb easy to git away. That Naomi thinks we-uns 
 don't know nothin'. Hit hain't so. We know enough 
 to make hit powerful uncomfortable for the-em." 
 
 A grim chuckle was the listeners' response. 
 
 " Hit hain't plumb certain thar's a sight o' danger," 
 remarked one, when the silence had lasted so long that 
 Lem's eye changed places with his ear in its relation to 
 the friendly gap. "Dal Mozingo hain't the man to 
 sneak off in the dark. He's got a right smart o' pride, 
 has Dal." 
 
 " Sneak off ? I hain't so sure," growled Sharp. "He 
 useter wouldn't ; but, when a man's in a tight place, 
 thar's no tellin'. Dai's got to git away from ha-ar, and 
 thar's that gal behind him. I tell ye, hit hain't safe. 
 Hit '11 be a powerful sight safer when the sheriff hauls 
 him off." 
 
 " How '11 you prue-uve he's aimin' to go away ? " asked 
 one of the party, reflectively. 
 
 " How '11 I prue-uve hit ? " John Sharp stared sav- 
 agely at the questioner. " Hain't he said so more 'n 
 onct?" 
 
 " Maybe he's said he'd go off and earn money, but 
 he hain't never said he was goin' now," responded the 
 other. " You'd want to swar he was goin' right away." 
 
 " He's fixin', hain't he?" demanded John Sharp. 
 
 "Yes, he's fixin', if what the women folks says is 
 true ; but we-uns don't know when he's aimin' to go, 
 and we don't know for certain he's goin' outer the State. 
 He may swar he hain't goin' at all." 
 
 " Some men might. Dal won't," replied John, posi- 
 tively. "Dai's a smart sight too proud to lie. Thar 
 hain't no fear o' that. " 
 
 At this point Lem gave a vicious kick at a rat that 
 was investigating the quality of the boy's bare toes, 
 with a view to a change of diet. 
 
 " Git aout ! " he ejaculated in muffled wrath. " If I 
 war n't a-listenin' to them, I'd larn ye." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 77 
 
 He was listening, and listening so intently that the 
 rat found itself at an advantage, and, acting in accord- 
 ance with its character as an animal of low nature, set 
 its teeth well into the grimy skin of that prominent 
 great toe. 
 
 A squeal, for which the rat was not responsible, and 
 another, for which the rat was responsible, was the 
 immediate result. 
 
 " Thar's some powerful lively rats under this buildin','' 
 remarked one of the men. " They're fightin' like the 
 mischief." 
 
 " Let 'em," said John Sharp shortly. " I got some- 
 thin' more important to attend to than the-em. Rats 
 hain't the only varmints that's got to be trapped." 
 
 A loud laugh, and " That's so ! " greeted the words. 
 
 " When are you goin' to set abaout doin' the trap- 
 pin' ? " was the next question. 
 
 John Sharp hesitated. 
 
 "I hain't plumb sure," he said at last. "To-morrer 
 or Friday, I reckon." 
 
 " How '11 you git the sheriff ? " 
 
 " Go atter him." 
 
 "Well, I reckon I'll happen that away abaout the 
 time you come along with him," remarked the interro- 
 gator, with a chuckle. " Hit '11 be a si-ight to see Naomi. 
 She's a right sma-art hand at trappin' other people. 
 Hit '11 be worth walkin* a step or two to see how she 
 likes bein' trapped herself." 
 
 " You can happen thar, and all Cedar Fork can 
 happen thar if they like," said John, impressively. " I 
 hain't aimin' to du this thing in a corner." 
 
 He strutted off with his head held high in the air. 
 Lem knew his head was higher than usual by the 
 peculiar thud of his feet on the ground. His auditors 
 slowly relieved the log walls of the weight of their 
 heavy bodies, and moved off. 
 
78 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Oh, my lor ! What '11 Naomi say ? " remarked one 
 as he went. "John Sharp'll du hit." 
 
 Before the voices had died away, a pair of heels 
 pushed themselves out of a hole that nobody but a small 
 boy could have crawled into ; and the body and head 
 that were the necessary accessories of the heels followed 
 quickly. 
 
 Lem was in a hurry. He scampered across a spur of 
 the mountain, and almost tumbled into the path by 
 Cedar Fork. With a flourish of his bare feet to clear 
 them of dirt, he presently crossed Naomi's threshold, 
 and poked his head into the kitchen. 
 
 " Naomi ? " 
 
 " Well, Lem, what is it ? " 
 
 It was the mill owner's voice ; and the mill owner was, 
 to all appearance, the only occupant of the place. 
 
 " Oh, I warn't lookin' for you," said Lem, backing a 
 step or two. " I wanted her" 
 
 "Ain't I as good?" 
 
 There was a laugh in Dalbert's eyes. Hope was 
 making another man of the mill owner. 
 
 " No-o. Whar's she ? " 
 
 " She's here. What do you want with her ? Stop, 
 though. I've got lettuce to pick. Come aout with me, 
 and help get it." 
 
 Naomi had sent one swift glance across at the face of 
 her visitor. She gave him no chance to speak till the 
 garden patch was reached. Then, when her hands 
 touched the lettuce-leaves, she turned and looked up at 
 the boy, her face a little lower than his own. 
 
 "What is it ? " she asked. 
 
 "They're goin' to put him in jail ! " 
 
 The words came in a shrill, horrified whisper. 
 
 The girl picked a lettuce-leaf and laid it in her pan. 
 The colour had flashed into her face. 
 
 " Help me pick lettuce," she said peremptorily. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 79 
 
 Her eyes had seen a figure not far distant. 
 
 The boy stooped over the lettuce bed. 
 
 " How do you know ? " she asked. 
 
 "I heared John Sharp tell hit to some more of 
 they-uns." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " Jist now. I crawled under the old mule barn, and 
 listened. 
 
 "How are they aimin' to do it?" 
 
 "Git the sheriff. Hit's 'cause Dai's goin' outer the 
 State without payin' they-uns. He says he cain't." 
 
 "Who '11 stop him?" 
 
 "John Sharp." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " To-morrer or the day atter." 
 
 "Tell me all you heard, and pick lettuce while you 
 tell. Never mind how many you spoil." 
 
 The boy obeyed. The lettuce-bed suffered, but the 
 knowledge of the listener was increased ; and a passer-by 
 who saw the picking went on none the wiser. 
 
 "That '11 be enough lettuce," said Naomi at last, 
 straightening herself and looking down at the overflow- 
 ing pan. " You go home now, Lem. There ain't any- 
 body much more use than a boy when he's real smart." 
 
 Lem lingered. Naomi started for the house. 
 
 " Hain't you aimin' to du nothin' ? " 
 
 The words came in a burst of disappointment and 
 disapprobation. 
 
 Naomi turned and looked at the boy. 
 
 "I ain't aimin' to see John Sharp get the best of 
 me-e," she said, with a smile on her lips. 
 
 Lem's face brightened. 
 
 "John was powerful sure," he said. 
 
 "John's been powerful sure more than once," she 
 replied; "and he's been powerful disappointed, too. 
 Maybe he ain't seen the last disappointment yet." 
 
8o VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Lem went off whistling. 
 
 That day and the next were as one to the mill owner 
 and his sister, for the gulf of sleep that should have 
 separated them became a highway of labour. When the 
 sun rose, the last chest was fastened and the last treasure 
 secured. 
 
 "Well, it '11 be over the quicker," said Dalbert; but 
 he looked nervous. 
 
 There was a smile on Naomi's face. She prepared 
 breakfast, and when it was eaten paid two or three visits 
 in different directions. On her way to the last calling- 
 place she encountered John Sharp. Perhaps the en- 
 counter was not quite accidental. Naomi knew some- 
 thing of John's habits. 
 
 "Howdy," she said, in as matter-of-fact a tone as if 
 no cause for unpleasantness existed. " I'm going up to 
 Will Graham's to see if he can spare a team. Dal wants 
 one powerful bad to-day." 
 
 John stared at her. 
 
 "Wants a team, does he?" he asked, when he had 
 sufficiently recovered from his astonishment to be able 
 to speak. " What does he want a team for ? " 
 
 "Well, I don't know as it's any good to tell yo-ou," 
 said Naomi, coolly. " You ain't seemed so friendly as 
 you used to be, so I never thought I could get you to 
 help. But the chests and things we've a mind to take 
 with us have got to be hauled, and they've got to be 
 hauled to-day." 
 
 " You're &-goiri ', then ? " 
 
 The words tumbled over one another in their haste. 
 
 " Yes. Didn't you know ? " asked Naomi innocently. 
 " I thought you'd kept a right good watch on all that 
 Dal and I were doing. Going ? Why, yes. I've been 
 round to say good-by. We've got some friends in 
 Cedar Fork yet." 
 
 She passed him, and walked on. He stood looking 
 
VISITING THE SIN 81 
 
 after her, surprise changing to cunning delight on his 
 face. 
 
 " I never thought she was sich a plumb fool," he 
 muttered. " Well, thar hain't much time to lose." 
 
 Naomi had gone barely a hundred yards when she 
 heard footsteps behind her. 
 
 " Air you aimin' to go to-day ? " 
 
 John was not yet alongside, but he was in too much 
 of a hurry to wait. 
 
 "Yes, to be sure," replied Naomi, without turning 
 her head. " Why, you are in the dark, John Sharp." 
 
 She walked steadily on. She could hear him follow- 
 ing still. 
 
 " Goin' Jellico way ? " 
 
 " I reckon it's the nearest road to get a team over, 
 ain't it ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 " Depends on whar you're goin'." 
 
 " Over the line to Tennessee." 
 
 " You air" 
 
 There was triumph in the tone. Naomi noted it, and 
 smiled. The smile was safe. She was still ahead of 
 her questioner. 
 
 "And you've done made up your mind to go to 
 Jellico to-day ? " 
 
 " Well," said Naomi slowly, " Dal thought we might 
 get a team to haul abaout to Jellico, or maybe a little 
 beyond there to-day." 
 
 " I hain't sure you'll git much beyond," he said sig- 
 nificantly. 
 
 " It '11 depend on the mules," replied Naomi ; but the 
 smile on her face broadened. 
 
 There was a longer pause. The footsteps dropped 
 behind. 
 
 "Well, you won't git no team of me. I'm aimin' to 
 go to Jellico myself to-day." 
 
 The voice had grown gruff again. John Sharp had 
 acquired all the information he deemed that he needed. 
 
82 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Yes ? I thought likely you were." 
 
 Any one of a suspicious turn of mind might have 
 imagined that Naomi's visit to Will Graham was purely 
 a matter of form. Will was not a staunch friend to 
 the mill owner, and he decided that he had no team 
 to spare. 
 
 " Well, I ain't despairing of getting one yet," said the 
 girl cheerfully. "Anyhow, I'll bid you good-by, for 
 fear I shouldn't see you again." 
 
 She went back with a brisk step. John Sharp judged 
 that she was in too much of a hurry to see him as he 
 came to the door to look after her. He was mistaken, 
 however. She saw him, and that amused smile crossed 
 her face again. 
 
 An hour from the time of her arrival at her own 
 house a mule wagon, piled high with the goods she had 
 decided to take with her, was ready to be in motion. 
 Duke and Charley, saddled and waiting, impatiently, 
 pawed the ground. A neighbour was to drive the 
 mules. 
 
 " Git ur-rp ! " shouted the driver. 
 
 Naomi came out of the house, and locked the door. 
 She bestowed the key in a hiding-place round the cor- 
 ner. There had been no time for the removal of many 
 things which had changed owners, but had yet to change 
 hands. 
 
 " Your wife will know where to get the key, Mance," 
 said the girl, addressing her words to the driver of the 
 mules. 
 
 " Lor, yes," he said. " Git ur-rp ! " 
 
 The girl gave one backward look at the house. Her 
 lips were not quite steady. She had put as much hope 
 as labour into the arranging of that home for herself 
 and Dal. 
 
 " Ready, Dal ? " she called, turning from the building 
 and springing into the saddle. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 83 
 
 Her brother came in sight at the moment. He had 
 been securing the entrances to the mill. 
 
 " Go ahead," he said. 
 
 So the little cavalcade started, taking the road to 
 Jellico. It was not until it was well on its way that 
 John Sharp saddled his horse and rode after. He had 
 spent the interval between Naomi's passing and the 
 present moment hanging round such elevations as af- 
 forded a view of the mill owner's premises. 
 
 " I thought maybe she might be foolin' me," he 
 said. 
 
 "John Sharp's took the road," announced Naomi, 
 looking back from the top of a long hill, the summit of 
 which commanded a fine view of Cedar Fork valley. 
 
 Dai's lips were set. His face showed no reflection of 
 the amused smile that set Naomi's all alight. 
 
 " There '11 come a time when I shan't have to sneak 
 off like a thief," he said. 
 
 " Sneak off ? Do you call this sneaking ? My sakes ! 
 It seems open enough, with John Sharp riding behind 
 to see you don't escape him." 
 
 Her laugh was loud and musical. It travelled back 
 along the road towards the foot of the hill, where John 
 Sharp rode by the side of the teamster and his mules. 
 The worthy John was improving the opportunity by 
 plying Mance with questions. He had ridden hard to 
 secure the privilege. 
 
 " Goin' to Jellico, air they ? " he asked, a little breath- 
 less after his quick ride. 
 
 " Hit lue-ukes like hit," replied Mance. 
 
 "I warn't sure they'd come this away," continued 
 John. 
 
 " Nearest, hain't hit ? " 
 
 " I reckon. But thar might be reasons for Dai's goin' 
 another way." 
 
 "Thar mi-ight," assented the teamster. "I reckon 
 
84 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 they're goin' this away, though. Naomi's a mighty 
 good manager. Hit's her that's puttin' this movin' 
 through." 
 
 John chuckled. 
 
 " Hit hain't through yit," he said. 
 
 " No. This load's powerful heavy. We hain't goin' 
 to git there till atter noon." 
 
 " Is Naomi aimin' to stop in Jellico to-night ? " asked 
 John. 
 
 " That depends," was the answer. " She's a leetle 
 inclined to git on a bit further 'n Jellico afore sun- 
 down. " 
 
 "Is she? I dare swar she won't du hit," replied 
 John. 
 
 "I hain't sure," returned the teamster. "That 
 team '11 du hit if any mules can." 
 
 " Naomi Mozingo won't go no further 'n Jellico to- 
 night, and no more won't Dal," said John confidently. 
 
 "Don't you be too sure," said the driver. "That girl 
 don't stand contrairyin' well, and she's aimin' to go 
 further. Not a smart sight, but over inter Ten- 
 nessee." 
 
 " You goin' plumb thar with 'em ? "asked John. 
 
 " Whar ? " 
 
 " To the place whar Dai's goin'." 
 
 " Lor, no ! I'm goin' jist over the line inter Tennes- 
 see. They hain't goin' to take these fixin's right on now. 
 They're goin' to leave 'em some place a little ways over, 
 and fetch 'em when they're ready." 
 
 "Air they ? " said John Sharp shortly. 
 
 He rode by the side of the wagon until more than 
 half of the journey was accomplished. Evidently he was 
 intent on making sure that the mountain town was the 
 real destination of the party. When noon was past, he 
 pushed forward. Dalbert and Naomi were some dis- 
 tance ahead. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 85 
 
 "Been taking it quietly, haven't you, John?" re- 
 marked Naomi. 
 
 Dalbert drew himself up a little straighter, and vouch- 
 safed no word as the farmer passed. 
 
 "I've done tuk hit the way that suited me," was the 
 insolent answer. " I reckon I know what I'm abaout." 
 
 " Likely," said Naomi. 
 
 He gave his horse a savage blow with a stick he car- 
 ried, and made off in hot haste. The brother and sister 
 saw his horse straining up the next hill. When he was 
 out of sight, Naomi drew out a big, old-fashioned watch, 
 and noted the time. 
 
 " He'll be there in an hour and a half at that pace," 
 she said. 
 
 She leaned forward, and patted Duke's neck. 
 
 " Are you going to let him run away from you-u ? " 
 she questioned, in a sharp, clear voice. 
 
 The horse pricked up his ears, and mended his pace. 
 In the next half -hour the pair left the wagon far behind. 
 
 " You turn off here," said Naomi at last. 
 
 Neither she nor Dal had spoken for many minutes. 
 
 " Yes," he said ; but he still rode by her side. 
 
 " I wish it was safe to go right on to Jellico and brave 
 him," he said at last. 
 
 " It isn't. And, if it was, I should lose some sport." 
 
 " It's no fun for me," he said. 
 
 " It would be if you could see John Sharp's face when 
 I ride into Jellico alone," she replied. 
 
 " Well, if it's got to be done, the sooner, the better," 
 he said, and turned and rode back to where a bridle-path 
 led over a great spur of the mountain. 
 
 She reined in her horse, and watched him until he 
 disappeared among the trees. The path he had taken 
 would lead him out of the State of Kentucky into that 
 of Tennessee. The usual route was through Jellico, for 
 the little mountain town lay half in one State and half 
 
86 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 in the other. The mountain path was rougher and 
 longer, and led in a different direction ; but it would 
 take her brother out of Kentucky, and that was the 
 object of Naomi's desire at the present moment. 
 
 The impulse to hasten seemed to have deserted her 
 after Dalbert's departure. She let Duke take his time, 
 and even stop now and again to snatch a mouthful of 
 grass. 
 
 "John Sharp won't be expecting us yet," she said. 
 " We're in no hurry, Duke." 
 
 It was two hours later, when she was near ing Jellico, 
 that she saw the farmer riding back. He was not alone. 
 The glimmer of a smile played upon Naomi's lips as she 
 recognized the sheriff by Sharp's side. 
 
 "How I wish I was near enough to see John's face 
 now ! " she said. 
 
 He had recognised her, she was sure, and was looking 
 for Dal. He came hurrying up, with the officer close 
 behind him. She could see the disappointment on his 
 face clearly enough now. 
 
 "Whar's Dal?" he shouted. 
 
 " Dal warn't aimin' to come this away," said Naomi, 
 calmly. 
 
 "What? What's that?" 
 
 " Dal warn't aimin' to come this away," she repeated. 
 " Howdy." This as greeting to the sheriff. 
 
 " He warn't ? " 
 
 John Sharp glowered at her from the back of his 
 horse. 
 
 "No. I'm aimin' to see after the team. Dal had 
 other business." 
 
 " Whar ? " 
 
 "In Tennessee." 
 
 Sharp brought his horse so near that he crowded 
 Duke back. 
 
 " Whar's that lyin' sneak now ? That's what I want 
 to know," he shouted. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 87 
 
 "I don't know anybody to answer to that descrip- 
 tion/' replied the girl, looking calmly into the angry- 
 face. 
 
 " Whar's Dal ? " shouted the mountaineer. 
 
 "In Tennessee somewheres, I reckon. I can't say 
 exactly whe-ere," she said. 
 
 " Fooled agin, hain't ye, John ? " 
 
 There was a laugh in the sheriff's eyes as he turned 
 them first on the angry mountaineer and then on the 
 girl. 
 
 "Fooled! Hit'd take the devil himself to git the 
 better o' that gal ; and he hain't likely to try, for the 
 witch is in league with him." 
 
 " Well, I reckon thar hain't no good standin' here, is 
 thar?" asked the sheriff. "We-all might as well git 
 back to Jellico, unless you're aimin' to go right on 
 home." 
 
 "Aimin'!" said Sharp savagely. "Whar's the good 
 aimin' ? " 
 
 The sheriff laughed, and turned back, riding by 
 Naomi's side. John Sharp held his horse still upon the 
 road, glowering after them. In the end he decided to 
 go on to Jellico, " and see if that gal warn't lyin'. Dal 
 was as likely to be thar now as not." 
 
 The mule wagon arrived at Jellico in time to cross 
 before dark the boundary line that divided the little 
 town between two States, and to go on further to a 
 hamlet where the goods were to be left for the present. 
 Naomi found Dalbert there before her. He was in a 
 fever of impatience, fearing that she had met with 
 annoyance at Jellico. He had ridden hard to reach 
 the meeting-place early, and his horse looked hot and 
 worried. 
 
 Naomi came in ahead of the wagon. When Jellico 
 was left behind, she had hurried on to set Dalbert's 
 mind at rest. 
 
88 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " We-el," she said laughingly, " we're he-ere." 
 
 " Has that rascal interfered with either you or the 
 things ? " asked Dalbert hotly. 
 
 "Who? John Sharp? I guess he's standing in the 
 middle of the road, cursing me and fate. That's what 
 he was doing when I saw him last." 
 
 Even Dalbert could not forbear a smile. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 89 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 GOOD evening, friend." 
 The riders looked weary. For the last hour 
 Dalbert had been seeking for a possible resting- 
 place for the night. He thought he saw it in a double 
 log house standing at a sharp bend in the road, so as 
 almost to face the travellers as they looked at it from 
 a distance. A man in shirt-sleeves, with a pipe in his 
 mouth, was walking towards it. Dalbert greeted him. 
 , " Good-evenin'. Won't you come in bye ? " 
 
 The speaker stared in an openly curious but perfectly 
 friendly manner at the strangers. 
 
 "Goin' on to the Gap?" he asked, before Dalbert 
 could accept or refuse his invitation. 
 " Not to-night. We're played aout." 
 " Lueke like hit. 'Light, and come in ? " 
 " Yes, if you've room to put us up." 
 " Room ? Shucks ! we've got plenty o' that." 
 They were opposite the house now ; and Naomi looked 
 sharply at the deeply shadowed space between the slop- 
 ing roofs that, beginning at either end of the two distinct 
 log buildings, dipped down till they met over the open, 
 ing between, forming a cool, covered passage that sepa- 
 rated, while it connected, the two halves of the house. 
 It was the lounging-place of the household, and in it was 
 gathered the family party, enjoying the coolness of its 
 breezy shelter. 
 
 Naomi was engaged in a little mental calculation. 
 The house was large ; but so were the inmates in point 
 of numbers. 
 
 " Come in and stay with me to-night ? " 
 
9 o VISITING THE SIN 
 
 An elderly woman removed the pipe from her mouth 
 to proffer the invitation. Three grown-up sons stared 
 meditatively, while they puffed smoke into the air and 
 waited for the answer. 
 
 "We should be glad," said Naomi; "but have you 
 room enough ? " 
 
 " Oh, lor ! we've got lots o' rue-ume," said the woman, 
 good-naturedly. "Go and he'p her 'light, Siles." 
 
 The young man who came forward at his mother's 
 bidding looked with undisguised admiration into the face 
 of the girl. It was a little whiter than usual with weari- 
 ness, the effect of the excitement of the preceding day ; 
 but Siles found it irresistibly bewitching. 
 
 "Let me he'p you down," he said, not without a 
 stammer born of bewildered admiration. 
 
 " Thank you, Duke will stand." 
 
 She sprang to the ground without touching the prof- 
 fered hand, and gently stroked Duke's nose. Then she 
 moved slowly towards the family party in the deep, cov- 
 ered alley. Five pairs of eyes other than those which 
 belonged to the parents or the grown-up sons carefully 
 followed her movements. 
 
 " Come right in," said the good wife heartily. 
 
 She led the way into the one room the left-hand wing 
 of the house contained. It was large, and served the 
 purpose of kitchen, dining, and living room generally. 
 The fire had not quite died down. 
 
 "I'll keen hit ur-rp, and cue-uke ye some supper," 
 said the woman. " My lor ! you du lueke tired. Here, 
 Siles, hump around, and git me some wood." 
 
 A panful of pork was soon sizzling over the cracking 
 sticks, and the housewife was bustling about to attend 
 to the wants of her visitors. 
 
 " I'll jist set the biscuit to warm," she said. " Thar 
 hain't no sense makin' more when thar's plenty left. 
 You-uns want to eat as quick as you can. Goin' 
 through the Gap to-morrer, did ye say ? " 
 
VISITING THE SIN 91 
 
 Yes. We stop at Big Creek." 
 
 You du ? " 
 
 "Is it far from here ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 " Abaout six miles. Be you goin' to stay ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Naomi. " Have you " 
 
 " And him, too ? " 
 
 The woman jerked her thumb in the direction of the 
 door, through which Dalbert's voice could be heard. 
 
 " Yes," said Naomi. " Have " 
 
 " Is he your man ? " interrupted the hostess. 
 
 " He is my brother." 
 
 "Is? Well, I doclar! And you and rum's goin' to 
 live at Big Creek." 
 
 " Yes. Do you know Big Creek ? " 
 
 " I reckon. I've been thar more 'n onct. Are your 
 parents livin' ? " 
 
 "No," said Naomi, with a little frown. She was 
 thinking of her father. 
 
 " Hain't ? And you live with this brother ? " 
 
 " Yes. Have you been in this " 
 
 " Got ary other brothers or sisters ? " 
 
 "No," replied the girl, once more leaving her ques- 
 tion unfinished. 
 
 " / declar. And you and him kinder keeps together, 
 don't ye ? I shouldn't wonder now if your parents left 
 you both a little, and by puttin' hit together you can 
 make aout tol'rable well." 
 
 The supposition was of the nature of an inquiry, but 
 Naomi failed to take it as it was meant. 
 
 " How many years have you lived " she began, but 
 was again cut short. 
 
 " Does he du anything for a livin' ? " 
 
 " My brother ? Yes, he is on his way to take charge 
 of the saw-mill at Big Creek." 
 
 " Well, / declar ! And you're goin', too ? Be you 
 goin' to do ary sort o' work, school-teachin' or any- 
 thing?" 
 
92 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "I look after things for my brother," said Naomi, 
 somewhat wearily. 
 
 She saw no reason for refusing to answer the ques- 
 tions of her hostess, but she found them tiresome. Yet 
 in spite of the weariness a smile of amusement grew 
 broader on her lips as she saw her interrogator's mouth 
 hastily forming another question. 
 
 " Aimin' to board somewhars, or to keep house ? " 
 
 "To keep house. It is pleasanter." 
 
 " It is so. But you've got to hev some fixin's. Aimin' 
 to bring 'em along, or buy 'em ? " 
 
 " Both," said Naomi, the smile breaking into a laugh. 
 
 " Well, / dectar ! Bringin' 'em fur ? " 
 
 " From beyond Jellico," replied Naomi, pleasantly 
 
 " Well, / declar ! Come from thar to-day ? " 
 
 " No. We started yesterday." 
 
 "Did? And you and him's goin' to Big Creek to 
 keep house together ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Naomi, " like you do. How long have 
 you been " 
 
 " Then he hain't married ? " 
 
 " No," answered the girl, a little quiver of laughter in 
 her voice. 
 
 " And hain't he got no gal he's payin' attentions to ? " 
 
 "He has never said so," responded Naomi, trying to 
 keep her voice in character with the gravity of the occa- 
 sion. 
 
 "Well, / dectar/ And hain't thar no young feller 
 a-comin' atter you ? " 
 
 "I didn't see one on the road," said Naomi inno- 
 cently. 
 
 The woman laughed with good-humoured loudness. 
 
 " Maybe you won't hev to lue-uke powerful long 
 afore you du," she said. "Did you live thar, away 
 back from Jellico ? " 
 
 "Yes, right in among the mountains." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 93 
 
 "Well, / Aoclar! And what did you and him du 
 thar ? " 
 
 " My brother had a saw-mill of his own ; but his part- 
 ner left, and he had to give it up," said Naomi. 
 
 " / declar. Warn't you plumb sorry to come away ? 
 You made a smart sight o' friends among the men, I 
 dare swar. They-uns don't see a pretty face like yourn 
 every day." 
 
 Naomi laughed 
 
 " I've been wondering how long you've lived here," 
 she said, putting into words the question that had many 
 times before attempted to pass her lips. 
 
 " Me ? Lor ! I was raised right har." 
 
 " Then you remember the time before the war ? " said 
 Naomi, a little eagerly. 
 
 "Remember? I reckon I du. You don't, though, 
 I'll swar. How old might you be, datter ? " 
 
 " I was seven when my father went away, and that 
 was in the earliest part of the war," said Naomi. 
 
 " Was ? Well, / declar ! And is your brother older 
 or younger than you ? " 
 
 " Older, by two years." 
 
 " Is ? Did your pappy go to the war ? " 
 
 " No. At least, I think not," replied Naomi. " Per- 
 haps, as you lived here at the time, you could judge 
 better what happened to him than I could. Did you 
 ever see droves of mules driven through here just before 
 the soldiers came to these parts ? " 
 
 " Lor, yes ! lots of times. They was goin' to 
 Georgy." 
 
 "Yes, my father was going there. We heard from 
 him at Big Creek, and" 
 
 " And he kinder deserted ye, and went off to the war. 
 Well, / dectarf You hain't the fust that's been left 
 that away, though." 
 
 "No, you mistake," said Naomi sharply. "We had 
 
94 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 no reason for supposing he went to the war. We never 
 heard of him after, but " 
 
 " Didn't ? / declar ! And you don't know whether 
 he was killed or not." 
 
 "No," said Naomi. "We are hoping to find some- 
 body who remembers him and his drove of mules." 
 
 " Hit hain't likely you'll du tha-at," said the woman 
 confidently. " Lor ! thar was heaps o' mules come 
 through in them days, and people's minds was disturbed 
 by the war that come soon atter. Thar wouldn't nobody 
 remember hi-im" 
 
 Naomi sighed. The prospect was not encouraging, 
 and she was tired. 
 
 " What did your mammy du when she found her man 
 had deserted her ? " asked the hostess, stopping in the 
 operation of dishing up the pork to put the question. 
 
 " My mother died years before," said Naomi coldly. 
 
 " Did ? Well, / doctor / And you and your brother 
 was all alone, warn't ye ? " 
 
 " No," replied Naomi. " My father's sister was with 
 us. She took care of us." 
 
 " That was good. And did she du hit aout of her 
 own pocket, or was thar somethin' left to keep you two 
 young-uns ? " 
 
 " She was very good," said Naomi, " but she had not 
 to do it all." 
 
 " Hadn't ? That was good. And she was kind to 
 ye? Well, fdeclarf Come in, son." This to Dalbert, 
 who stood in the doorway. "Your supper's cueked. 
 Come and eat." 
 
 And, while they ate, a constant stream of questions 
 poured from the good woman's lips. If she did not 
 know all about the past and present life of her guests 
 before supper was finished, it was solely for want of 
 sufficient ingenuity to frame another question. < 
 
 " Like to set and cool off a bit ? " asked the hostess, 
 when dishes and cups were disposed of. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 95 
 
 " Git a light and bring it in the other rue-ume," sug- 
 gested her husband. "Thar's fallin' weather comin'." 
 
 The patter of rain was already to be heard without. 
 A shower was to be looked for. 
 
 The other room proved to be the whole of the opposite 
 wing of the house. It was of the same size and shape 
 as that in which supper had been eaten. The good wife 
 had said she had plenty of sleeping accommodation. 
 After a careful examination of that big apartment, Naomi 
 concluded that she had so far as beds were concerned. 
 One in every corner was not the end of the story here, 
 for the room was big enough to hold more ; and what 
 was a bedroom unless filled with beds ? Accordingly, 
 two stood boldly out in the middle of the floor, leaving 
 a narrow passage between themselves and the four 
 sleeping-places in the corners. 
 
 "Feel tol'rable satisfied now, don't you?" inquired 
 the good woman, following Naomi's look with a satisfied 
 glance of her own, and chuckling a little over what must 
 be the outcome of the inspection. " You-uns was scart 
 abaout thar not bein' beds enough, warn't ye ? " 
 
 Naomi gasped. There was well perhaps a little 
 too much accommodation. 
 
 " Do you all sleep here ? " she asked. 
 
 " Lor, yes ! " replied the hostess, proudly. " Hit's 
 powerful warm and comfortable in the winter. Thar 
 now, you jist take your choice. Fix on ary bed o' the 
 six, and hit shall be saved for ye." 
 
 Naomi expressed due gratitude, and mentally vowed 
 that it should not. 
 
 "Well, you are generously provided," she said. "I 
 never had more than one bed in ary room in my house." 
 
 " Didn't ? Well, / feclar ! Jim, du you hear tha-at ? 
 She hain't never seed so many beds in a rue-ume 
 before." 
 
 Her husband laughed loudly. 
 
96 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "Lor! we hain't short o' beds," he said. " Sakes 
 alive, if we was put to hit, we could find another yit." 
 
 " You couldn't put it in here," suggested Naomi, dip- 
 lomatically. 
 
 " Lor ! we don't want : hit's put a' ready," laughed the 
 host. " You come and see." 
 
 She followed him into the covered passage, where the 
 raindrops were being swept in by the wind. 
 
 " Thar ! " said her guide, triumphantly pointing to a 
 small, shed-like extension. " Hit's a real old-fashioned 
 bedstead in thar. Ever sleep on one o' that sort ? " 
 
 " No," said the girl, leaning forward into the rain to 
 peer in at the door he opened. 
 
 "Wait till I fetch a light. Hit's plumb dark thar." 
 
 He went off in haste, eager to display all his posses- 
 sions, and Naomi stepped across the intervening space, 
 and took refuge in the shed. Its hinged shutter was at 
 present closed, and but little light penetrated the in- 
 terior. When the lamp arrived, the girl saw the most 
 primitive form of the old-time Kentucky bedstead. 
 Two large auger-holes had been bored in the log wall, 
 and into each a pole had been thrust. At the other 
 ends of the poles forked sticks reached to the puncheon 
 floor. On this framework rested boards that made a 
 firm, if not a soft foundation for the straw bed that 
 Naomi forthwith appropriated as her sleeping-place. 
 
 "Ever see sich a bed as tha-at ? " asked her host, com- 
 placently. 
 
 " No," replied the girl. " I'm going to sleep here, and 
 see what it feels like." 
 
 "Hear that, mammy?" laughed the good man. 
 "She's that tuk with the old bed that she wants to 
 sleep on hit." 
 
 " Nary bit of hit," said his wife, coming hastily to the 
 rescue. " With the other rue-ume plumb full o' gue-ude 
 beds, we hain't goin' to let strangers sleep thar." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 97 
 
 " But I want to try it. I've never seen anything like 
 it before," protested Naomi. 
 
 "Hain't? Well, / dec/arf Hit's good enough to 
 lue-uke at, but hit hain't as soft to sleep in as a goose- 
 feather bed. Come and hev your pick o' the others. 
 You're powerful welcome." 
 
 " I can sleep on a bed of goose feathers any day," 
 persisted Naomi. " I'm going to stay here, and try a 
 real old-fashioned bed." 
 
 " Lor ! hit's so powerful lonesome. You can jist as 
 well sleep on one o' them six." 
 
 The good woman looked distressed. 
 
 "If you offer me all the six, I would rather stay 
 here," said Naomi. " You promised me I should have 
 my choice." 
 
 " Lor ! let her hev her own way," said the host, good- 
 naturedly. " Hit's a si-ight what tickles some people." 
 
 But the thought of her six beds yet troubled his wife. 
 
 " Oh, pshar ! You hain't no call to think hit's ary 
 trouble hevin' another one in that rue-ume," she said. 
 " Why, gal, you hain't used to hevin' a plenty. One 
 bed in a rue-ume' s too poor for me-e." 
 
 " No. I ain't used to it, that's just how it is," said 
 Naomi, gravely. " I shall feel ever so much more at home 
 here." 
 
 " Let her stop, mammy," said her host. " Maybe 
 she'll be drappin' asleep faster 'n she would in the other 
 rue-ume. Folks feels a right smart more comfortable 
 with what they're used to, if hit hain't as good as they 
 might hev." 
 
98 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 " f | THINGS look a sight more hopeful in the morn- 
 ing than they do after sundown." 
 A Naomi had shaken off the depression of 
 Cedar Fork with the mists of the night. It was past. 
 Let it rest until it could be redeemed by the future. 
 She braced herself to meet that future, which, by some 
 inexplicable chance, was connected with an earlier past. 
 
 Notwithstanding the " lonesomeness " of her chosen 
 sleeping-place, the girl had made such good use of her 
 time that Siles and the other sons were dumb before the 
 vision that met them at early dawn. The wearied face 
 of the evening before had been too fair for safety ; but 
 this they succumbed silently. Not so their mother. 
 Silence and the good wife had nothing in common, unless 
 it were a compact to keep well out of each other's way. 
 
 " Well, / dectar/ Thar hain't no call to ask whether 
 you slep* well." 
 
 She stood and stared at her visitor. 
 
 " Which of your parents do you favour ? " she asked, 
 after that careful scrutiny. 
 
 " Both ; but my father most," said Naomi. 
 
 " Well, / feclar / " ejaculated the good woman. " He 
 must 'a been a powerful handsome man." 
 
 Naomi smiled and sighed. The neighbourhood of Big 
 Creek Gap had brought the past out of the region of 
 imagination into that of reality. Along this road her 
 father had driven his mules. 
 
 " Think you should know your pappy if you was to 
 meet him ? " asked her hostess, her thoughts taking the 
 route along which Naomi's were travelling. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 99 
 
 " Yes," replied the girl quietly. 
 
 " Lor ! you think so," responded the woman. " I hain't 
 so powerful sure. Folks gits plumb changed in that 
 time, and bein' in the war hain't calculated to make 'em 
 no handsomer.'* 
 
 " I should know my father," said Naomi, waiving the 
 question of the war. " I was always * father's girl.' " 
 
 There was a softening of her voice that gave it a new 
 tone. The woman looked at her curiously. 
 
 " Well, / dectar f You hain't got real over hit yit, 
 hev ye ? " she said. 
 
 Naomi shook off her abstraction, and in the next half- 
 hour so effectually turned the heads of Siles and the 
 other "boys" that things began to look dangerous. 
 The mother watched the girl. 
 
 " If you hain't got a score o' fellers runnin' atter you, 
 I'm powerful sure hit hain't the fault o' the fellers," she 
 said at last. " Lor ! hit's a si-ight." 
 
 Just what it was that was a " si-ight " she did not 
 need to explain. She was looking from the face and 
 figure of the girl to the three tall sons who lingered 
 near her. 
 
 " Better be gittin' along, hadn't ye ? " she said, laugh- 
 ing. " Hit hain't safe to hev you here ary longer." 
 
 She sent them away with many good wishes. 
 
 "Well, / dzclar! They du look a powerful pretty 
 pair," she said, gazing after them with admiration in her 
 eyes. 
 
 Perhaps it was admiration that caused another pair of 
 sharp eyes to peer down in a strangely eager fashion at 
 the brother and sister as they neared the Gap. The 
 face to which the eyes belonged wore a startled look, 
 and if a face so wizened and seamed and hardened by 
 the pressure of time could be relied upon to speak the 
 truth, bore witness to another feeling also. 
 
 " Whar's she come from, and whar's she aimin' to go 
 this away ? " 
 
ioo VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The voice was hoarse, like the grating sound of a 
 worn-out bell. It creaked angrily, too. No, there was 
 no admiration in the eyes, for they were surely vindic- 
 tive. 
 
 The great basket of roots and herbs that the old 
 tough arm had carried easily was deposited hastily on 
 the ground, and brown fingers adorned with long claw- 
 like nails were lifted to shade eyes that were as keen as 
 ever after a hundred years of wear. 
 
 The watcher was on a point of vantage. A big rock 
 that cropped out of the hillside back from the road gave 
 her shelter, where she could see without being seen, and 
 a sharp curve lent additional facilities, for the travellers 
 were for the moment facing her. Naomi had just 
 broken a long silence, in which brother and sister had 
 been looking at the scene with eyes that saw back 
 through the years. The girl's face was lighted by a 
 smile. 
 
 No, there was no admiration in the inscrutable old 
 face that was poked forward as the two approached. 
 
 " Thar's no mistakin' that face. Thar's evil a-comin' ! " 
 
 The lips moved nervously, and a light that was surely 
 malevolent shot out from the aged eyes towards the 
 young face below. Those eyes watched until the curve 
 was passed and only the backs of the travellers could be 
 seen. Then the brown, dried-up fingers began again 
 their search for roots, and the hoarse voice muttered : 
 " Thar's evil a-comin' ; but we shall se-e. Thar is ways. 
 Yes, gal, we shall se-e." 
 
 She peered over again as fresh hoof-beats sounded 
 upon the road, and then turned away in disdain. 
 
 " Hit's only old Gid Paul." 
 
 The horseman, a tall, bony mountaineer, pushed for- 
 ward until he was alongside of the brother and sister. 
 
 " Howdy ! Coin' to Big Creek ? " 
 
 Both turned at his greeting. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 101 
 
 " It's where we're aimin' to go," replied Dalbert ; " but 
 that don't look like getting there." 
 
 He pointed towards the wall of mountain that in the 
 distance seemed to bar the way. The musical ripple of 
 water betrayed the fact that between the heights that 
 skirted the road on the left and those which sloped 
 away at what looked barely more than a stone's throw 
 to the right ran Big Creek itself, half the time hidden 
 by the trees and bushes which overhung it. Right 
 ahead the mountains opened out, to afford room for a 
 densely wooded hill that to all appearance stretched 
 from side to side of the defile. 
 
 " A powerful wild-lookin' place, hain't hit ? " responded 
 the native, " and a mighty lonesome one from here clar 
 through the Gap." 
 
 " Where is the Gap ?" asked Dalbert. 
 
 " To the left. You'll see hit in a minute." 
 
 He watched the brother and sister with some amuse- 
 ment. In his case, time and familiarity had toned down 
 admiration even for such a scene as lay before him. It 
 was the girl's face that claimed most of his attention. 
 For the moment she had almost forgotten his presence. 
 She was peopling this wild region with other forms than 
 those of to-day. 
 
 As the travellers advanced, a dark, narrow passage 
 disclosed itself, running in close under the mountain 
 which formed the left boundary of the road. The 
 stranger extended his arm towards it. 
 
 "Thar!" he said. "That's the Gap, and that's the 
 gateway that all the fust settlers in these parts come 
 through ; and nary one comin' this away but's got to go 
 through hit still." 
 
 " It looked more like a wall than a gateway a little 
 further back," said Naomi. 
 
 The old man nodded sagely. Then he laughed. 
 
 " Hit's proved a mighty tough wall for some, if say- 
 
102 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 in's don't lie," he said. " Thar's been them that's found 
 hit a plumb easy gate to git in and a powerful hard one 
 to git aout of." 
 
 The startled eyes of the girl turned to meet his. 
 
 " Why," she exclaimed, " is it dangerous ? " 
 
 " Nary bit/' was the reply. " Hit hain't a powerful 
 rough road." 
 
 " Then why should any find difficulty in returning ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 The old man chuckled. 
 
 " Lor ! hit's powerful easy to ride in a mule-back," he 
 said. 
 
 " And not to ride aout again ? " 
 
 " Hit all depends on circumstances," replied the na- 
 tive, sagely. " Mules don't take kindly to a dead hand." 
 
 He leaned forward a little to watch the effect of his 
 words. Evidently it satisfied him; for he chuckled 
 gleefully. 
 
 "My lor! don't be scart," he said. "Thar hain't 
 nothin' goin' to stop you from gittin' aout." 
 
 " Why not, if other people were stopped ? " asked the 
 girl. 
 
 " Lor, mercy sakes ! Thar hain't nothin' o' that sort 
 happened since the war, and thar's them as says hit 
 never happened afore. Let 'em say. They don't fool 
 Gid Paul." 
 
 " Did you live here then ? " asked Naomi, eagerly. 
 
 " Depends on whar you mean by here," he replied. 
 " I hain't never lived in Big Creek, and I hain't never 
 lived so powerful fur away." 
 
 "Then you should know what happened," said Dal- 
 bert. 
 
 "Yes, I should and I du." 
 
 He turned his head and rode forward. They were at 
 the entrance of the Gap, which had to all appearance 
 been widening at every step they took towards it. Now 
 
VISITING THE SIN 103 
 
 it disclosed a passage girt by towering rocks, with the 
 road running along a ledge on the least precipitous side 
 and Big Creek flowing over a stony bed below. That 
 first ride through the Gap was a blank to Dalbert and 
 Naomi, so far as scenery was concerned. They had a 
 dim consciousness of vast rocks rising castle-like across 
 the stream, and green stretches towering above the 
 ledge on which their horses' feet sounded strange and 
 unnatural ; but every distinct impression was swallowed 
 up in excitement evoked by the stranger's words. Had 
 they come so soon upon the explanation of the silence 
 that had fallen with such suddenness upon the past ? 
 
 "You're powerful unflattering to your part of the 
 country," said Dalbert, in a tone loud enough to reach 
 the horseman ahead. "Anybody would think it was 
 full of rogues." 
 
 The rider turned. 
 
 "They'd think plumb wrong," he said, and turned 
 back. 
 
 Naomi and Dalbert exchanged glances. 
 
 "Travellers don't change to dead men where the 
 road's safe and the people honest," said Naomi, some- 
 what hotly. " Unless, maybe, your country's unhealthy." 
 
 "Hit's powerful healthy now. Hit useter wasn't 
 for some people." 
 
 Again there was an amused chuckle. 
 
 " Well, you ain't very communicative," said Naomi, 
 diplomatically. " I don't know but you're ri-ight. It's 
 a smart sight better to say too little than too much. 
 What a person can't prove, and ain't plumb sure of, he'd 
 better not te-ell." 
 
 The long drawl with which the words concluded was 
 suggestive of satire. It brought the stranger's head 
 round. 
 
 "When Gid Paul hain't knowin' what he's talkin' 
 abaout, he'll shet his mouth and keep hit shet," he said. 
 
104 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "Why, ye-es," replied the girl. "That's just what 
 I'm saying. You ha-ave shut your mouth. It's a 
 si-ight how much wiser some people are than others." 
 
 "If you think I don't know what I'm talkin' abaout, 
 young woman, you're plumb aout," said the stranger, 
 his voice rising with the strength of his feelings. " Thar 
 hain't a man in Campbell County knowed Kennedy Po- 
 teet better 'n me. Hain't I fit him up and daown this 
 Gap, and him throwin' rocks at every step ? Hit was a 
 si-ight ! He was the fightin'est man round, but he was 
 powerful careful how he come near me atter tha-at." 
 
 " Then you weren't friends ? " hazarded Naomi. 
 
 " Friends ! Me friends with Kennedy Poteet ! " 
 
 He turned, and pushed forward in disgust. 
 
 " Had Kennedy Poteet anything to do with making 
 this valley dangerous for travellers in the old time?" 
 questioned Naomi, after a breathless pause. 
 
 " If he hadn't, thar was nary one that had," said the 
 stranger, his eyes looking straight before him, and the 
 sound of his voice going where it pleased. 
 
 " And did he dare to injure travellers ? " 
 
 The man laughed. 
 
 " Thar warn't much Kennedy Poteet darsn't du," he 
 said. " Lor, bless ye, you mayn't believe hit, but thar 
 has been some strange things done daown thar in Big 
 Creek. Thar's stars that has seed quar si-ights, I tell 
 ye." 
 
 " The stars, and not the sun ? " questioned Dalbert, 
 in a tone that he forced to be quiet. 
 
 "Yes, the stars" replied the stranger irritably. 
 " Kennedy Poteet warn't sich a plumb fool as to du his 
 deeds by daylight." 
 
 "What were his deeds ? " 
 
 The older man turned on the younger quickly. 
 
 " Lor ! don't ask me-e," he said. " Maybe I don't 
 know. I warn't thar, that's sure ; but, unless folks is 
 
VISITING THE SIN 105 
 
 powerful big liars, his deeds warn't of the best. Go and 
 lueke in the bone cave if you're mighty anxious to see 
 what sort o' deeds he done." 
 
 "The bone cave?" 
 
 Naomi's voice was shrill with the tension of the mo- 
 ment. 
 
 " Yes, the bone cave. They du say hit was thar he 
 put 'em atter he'd done tuk all they'd got and the 
 biggest thing a man's got is his li-ife." 
 
 The last words were spoken meditatively. 
 
 " Do you mean that this Kennedy Poteet killed men 
 and hid them in a cave ? " asked Dalbert, with a ring of 
 horror in his voice. 
 
 " Hit lueked powerful like hit," was the answer. " I 
 hain't sayin' for plumb sure he done hit. I warn't 
 thar. Hit was afore the war. I'd fit him more 'n onct 
 when we was young : he was older 'n me, though. But 
 I lived up thar forenenst that peak in the mountain when 
 Kennedy Poteet begun to grow rich sudden. If I'd 
 been nearer, he wouldn't 'a found hit so plumb easy to 
 put 'em underground. I warn't fur away, but I was too 
 fur to keep track o' him." 
 
 " But didn't people interfere ? Didn't anybody 
 know ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 The horror in her voice was very apparent now. 
 
 "Thar warn't nobody that jist knowed," said the 
 stranger, "and thar warn't nary man that would go 
 down inter that bone cave to see not then. They 
 darsn't. Hit had got a bad name. Thar was them as 
 said thar was bones in hit afore his time, and thar was 
 them as said they warn't thar till Kennedy Poteet begun 
 to put up travellers at that big house o' hisn. They 
 come powerful often afore the war, goin' to and gittin' 
 back from Georgy. They druv mules and hogs down 
 thar, and come back with the money." 
 
 "And he robbed them of it ? " said Dalbert. 
 
io6 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "I hain't a-sayin' that," was the reply. "Nobody 
 cain't be plumb sure. Thar's them as say he didn't. I 
 hain't one of 'em. Anyhow, Kennedy Potent got rich, 
 and them strangers disappeared. That's all thar is to 
 hit. Yander's Big Creek." 
 
 They had come to the outlet of the Gap. Big Creek 
 Valley, broad and open, lay before them. The wild 
 grandeur of the pass was all behind, where an anomalous 
 figure that wore a man's hat and coat over a short skirt 
 of homespun stood upon a commanding height and 
 looked down at the stream and at a bend in the road 
 where the horses had not long since passed. The lips 
 were muttering, as they had muttered as the three 
 riders moved beneath ; and the words sounded like an in- 
 cantation. 
 
 It needed no unholy arts to cast a spell over the 
 brother and sister as they stopped and looked out into 
 the valley. The words of the stranger had proved 
 sufficient. 
 
 " Whar are you-uns aimin' to stay ? " he asked. 
 
 "I'm going on to the saw-mill," replied Dalbert, 
 absently. 
 
 " Are ? Calc'lathY to git work thar ? " 
 
 " I have got it," was the reply. " I'm the new super- 
 intendent." 
 
 " Say so ? Hit's all new then, hain't hit ? " observed 
 the stranger. "We-el, you-uns needn't be scart. 
 Kennedy Poteet hain't in Big Creek. He's gone to 
 meet them he sent on ahead." 
 
 He rode straight on towards a highway that crossed 
 the main road of the valley at right angles. 
 
 " You go that way," he said, without looking back. 
 
 The eyes of the brother and sister met. Naomi's 
 face was whiter than usual. 
 
 "Is there any truth in it ? " she gasped. 
 
 " I doubt it," replied Dalbert, trying to shake off the 
 
VISITING THE SIN 107 
 
 feeling of oppression. "There was plenty of malice, 
 anyhow. That man and Kennedy Poteet were enemies. 
 It may be that is all there is about it." 
 
 " I don't know," said Naomi slowly. " But I'm going 
 to know ; and if what he says is tru-ue," 
 
 She left the sentence unfinished, but Dalbert read 
 part of its ending in her face. 
 
 " It's no use taking it that away," he said. " Even if 
 it is true, this Kennedy Poteet is dead." 
 
 "Yes he's dead more's the pity," said the girl. 
 " But men shall know him for what he was. Ay, and 
 if there's any belonging to him left here in Big Creek, 
 they shall bear the punishment." 
 
 The girl's voice was low, but the passion in it thrilled 
 through the air and through the heart of the listener. 
 He turned upon her in surprise. 
 
 "Why, Naomi!" he said. 
 
 "Would you leave his death unavenged ? " she asked 
 sharply. 
 
 " I wouldn't avenge it on the innocent," he said. 
 
 " Innocent ! " The scorn in her tone spoke for itself. 
 " Son or daughter of a murderer is like to be innocent" 
 
 " We don't know yet that this Poteet was a mur- 
 derer," said Dalbert, thoughtfully. "I don't want to 
 believe it. And it's not certain. Our friend was too 
 hot to be reliable." 
 
 " We shall se-e," replied Naomi ; and they rode on in 
 silence. 
 
 Out upon the valley road, through the village, and 
 beyond it, to where the houses, which were never thick, 
 grew scattered, they rode without speaking, except in 
 answer to greetings. Men and women came to their 
 doors to look after the pair. 
 
 "A tol'rable pretty man and woman," was the gen- 
 eral comment ; and " Whar be they a-goin' ? " the com- 
 mon question. 
 
io8 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Follow the valley road till you come to the branch," 
 had been the directions given by the mill owner. 
 
 "Where is the branch?" asked Dalbert, when the 
 houses grew far between. 
 
 His sister came back to the present with a visible 
 effort. 
 
 " Yonder is water," she said. 
 
 They crossed it just where an old house, large enough 
 to be noticeable among its fellows, stood in a hollow, its 
 long piazza shaded by apple trees, its broad front pre- 
 senting a respectable and not unattractive face to the 
 world. 
 
 " We turn off here, if we are to follow the branch," 
 said Dalbert. 
 
 It was a genuine mountain road into which they 
 passed, steep, rocky, and shut in, a bit of life all to 
 itself. They were mountain boy and girl, and they 
 thought nothing of taking to the stream for a path. 
 For some distance there was no other, except upon the 
 hillside ; and that, from its nature, was more suitable 
 for pedestrians. Right before them, built under an 
 overshading bank steep enough to make a respectable 
 hill, with the road running above, and the opposite ridge 
 shutting it and the " branch " in like a wall, was the mill. 
 
 " Good evening. I reckon I'm speaking to my new 
 superintendent or superintendents." 
 
 There was a laugh in the tone of the voice. 
 
 They had been so busy looking at the mill that 
 neither Dalbert nor Naomi had seen the figure upon the 
 road above. Now the eyes of both turned upward. 
 
 A merry, handsome face looked down at them the 
 face of the mill owner, or rather of the son of the mill 
 owner, though the distinction is unnecessary. The 
 speaker was practically the owner of the building before 
 them. Shorter and squarer built than Dalbert, he 
 looked but a year or two older. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 109 
 
 "You are speaking to Dalbert Mozingo," was the 
 answer. 
 
 " Ah ! I thought so. I'm Will Hollingsworth. I've 
 been looking for my superintendent since yesterday 
 but I've got more than I looked for." 
 
 The last words were spoken reflectively. His eyes 
 were fixed on Naomi. 
 
 "My sister rode through with me," said Dalbert, a 
 little stiffly. "We are in the habit of keeping house 
 together." 
 
 " Lucky fellow," replied the young man, with a smile 
 that was not meant for Dalbert. " Won't you get off 
 that animal's back and come in and see the mill ? You 
 must be powerful tired if you've come from beyond 
 jellico to-day." 
 
 The invitation was not intended for the new superin- 
 tendent, though that young man chose to accept it as 
 offered to himself. 
 
 " Yes, I'll come in and look," he said. " The sooner 
 I get to work, the better, after I have seen my sister to 
 some safe resting-place." 
 
 "Oh, you can come or stay, just as you like," said 
 the mill owner, lightly. " It won't hurt you to sit a bit 
 longer astride a horse's bones. I wasn't fretting about 
 you, but ladies are different. Won't you alight ? " 
 
 He came down the bank headlong, and was drawing 
 near to assist Naomi. Her foot touched the ground as 
 he reached her. 
 
 " Thank you, we have not come far to-day," she said. 
 " You need not trouble about Duke. He'll stand." 
 
 They went into the mill together. 
 
 The mill owner was very thorough in his exhibition 
 of the machinery. He led the way from one part of the 
 building to another in leisurely fashion, taking frequent 
 occasion to look back into the face of his superintend- 
 ent's sister. 
 
I io VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " I'm glad you came here first," he said, when he 
 could find no further excuse for lingering ; and again his 
 words were not meant for his new superintendent. " It 
 was quite the right thing ; for since you belong to Dal- 
 bert, and Dalbert belongs to the mill, it's not hard to 
 establish that you belong to the mill, too." 
 
 Naomi smiled. 
 
 " It's not powerful hard to make a claim," she said. 
 
 To all appearance the mill owner found that smile 
 sufficient compensation for his trouble. He went back 
 into the mill with a light step, and was observed to be 
 unusually abstracted at intervals during the rest of the 
 day. 
 
VISITING THE SIN in 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 "T" TAINT that gospel truth? Hain't that jist 
 
 I I what my old man said ? " 
 
 JL JLThe speaker shifted one lean elbow from po- 
 sition on her knee, and vigorously nudged her nearest 
 neighbour. The flame, dancing up into the waning 
 daylight, threw a weird glow on the wizened old face 
 poked forward towards it ; and a rook in a tree overhead 
 suddenly uttered a solemn caw. The elbow came into 
 position again, and the wrinkled hand took a fresh grip 
 on the twist of home-cured tobacco held in readiness to 
 replenish the pipe that the lips grasped firmly. 
 
 Nearly a score of grey heads nodded assent to the 
 proposition, and Big Creek winked knowingly from be- 
 tween its low banks. Big Creek was full of vagaries 
 to-night. The stream twinkled and winked and tossed 
 back the red glow of the fires, and then fled coyly to the 
 deep darkness of some shadowed pool to rest and grow 
 decorous again. A few hundred yards back it lay still 
 and dark in a place where rock ledges on either side 
 forced it into limits too strait for mirth. Cold and 
 clear and free from all quips and quirks, it slid noise- 
 lessly past the perpendicular faces of its jailers in a 
 grand, unruffled curve, and then, freed from control, 
 flowed out gleefully to grassy stretches, and took to 
 wild ways as it reddened and flashed and flirted with 
 the light of half a dozen fires kindled along its banks, 
 chattering and gurgling with laughter at the grotesque 
 shadows it caught on its bosom. 
 
 Big Creek had known nothing of loneliness in this 
 part of its course to-day ; for a Baptist " Association " 
 
H2 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 was being held, and men and women from all the 
 country round had come together in its neighbourhood. 
 The stream gleamed and rioted like a young thing to- 
 night. It was hardly the influence of association that 
 made it send up youthful flashes into the lessening day- 
 light, for the figures that moved on its banks had long 
 ago lost the elasticity of youth. The eyes that peered 
 into its waters were a little dim with age well-spec- 
 tacled, though, and sharp-sighted at close quarters. 
 They were acting at close quarters to-night, staring into 
 the fire or into their neighbours' faces. Weather- 
 beaten, time-graven faces were those on which the fire- 
 light gleamed. Wrinkles were plentiful, carved by the 
 hard hand of character fully as often as by the relent- 
 less finger of time. Those old men in long, undyed 
 jeans coats of the scissor-t ailed pattern had a past and 
 it was a long one. It belonged to the day of the white- 
 haired, spectacled women in homespun, who sat elbow 
 to elbow with their contemporaries of the scissor-tailed 
 coats, and smoked their pipes around the fires in peace 
 and amity, while the daylight waned, and a few belated 
 rooks cawed in unsettled fashion in a near-by tree, and 
 Big Creek laughed in the faces of the talkers. 
 
 Among the company there were undoubtedly mouths 
 that had not yet learned to drop into deep creases of 
 wisdom ; but they were babbling youthful talk back 
 among the trees, where the shadows were more at home 
 than the lights. The places of honour around the fires 
 were filled by men and women well seasoned with age, 
 old residents who knew the traditions of the hillsides, 
 and could speak with weight and authority. Not an old 
 man or woman save one within thirty miles but 
 had come to the " Association " to listen to the sermons 
 and to talk with old friends over old times and old 
 beliefs. For the gathering was of a religious character, 
 and Big Creek valley was staunch for religion and for 
 the old " hard-shell " Baptist faith. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 113 
 
 They failed to find the time long as they waited be- 
 tween the sermons for the coming of some minister who 
 may have had to ride a hundred miles for the privilege 
 of expounding to them the old-time Baptist doctrine. 
 They found plenty to talk about around the glowing em- 
 bers of the fires lighted on the shores of the creek. 
 There was no fear of failing interest. Deep-set eyes 
 stared through their spectacles into the fires, and old 
 faces lighted and grew eager, as weird stories of witches 
 and witchcraft fell on ears long accustomed to such 
 recitals. With elbows squared on knees and heads 
 bent forward, those veteran story-tellers listened, nod- 
 ding grave assent to every proposition. As the daylight 
 failed, a score of tiny points of light gave glowing evi- 
 dence of pipes held lovingly between clinging lips. 
 
 " We-all know what witches and wizards is, and he 
 hain't much less 'n a born fool that contrairies 'em," de- 
 clared the speaker of the moment. 
 
 " That's plumb true." 
 
 " That's gospel truth, hain't hit ? " 
 
 "That's jist what I say." 
 
 " Hit costs a sight more to contrairy 'em than to give 
 'em what they're atter," continued the speaker. " Thar 
 is men so powerful determined though that they're 
 plumb blind. Ever hear tell abaout John Powell's 
 horse?" 
 
 One or two heads nodded sagely, but the rest remained 
 non-committal. 
 
 "Hit was aout beyond Hickory Creek," pursued the 
 speaker, " and hit happened a right smart while ago. I 
 was nothin' but a little toad when John Powell died. 
 Thar was a woman livin' aout thar named Emme/zW 
 Ark. She had a sister called Eva/me. ILva./tne was a 
 good-sensed woman, so I've beared, but Emme/^, 
 thar, hit hain't no good denyin' that Emme/m* was quar- 
 turned, rarl quar-turned. She'd come along and look 
 
114 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 with them little black eyes o' hern right in at a door, 
 and they'd hear her mutter as she passed, 'Thar '11 be 
 trouble in this house to-day ' ; and sure as noontide follers 
 atter mornin,' afore the sun sot thar would be." 
 
 Grey heads nodded, and white smoke was puffed re- 
 flectively towards the fire. 
 
 " Thar was some that hadn't no likin* for Emme/zV^," 
 continued the narrator. "They useter shet their 
 doors when they seed her comin'. John Powell was 
 that away. He'd never hev her in his house. He'd 
 drive her off sometimes. Hit hain't a lucky thing to 
 du. Hit useter wasn't, and hit hain't now." 
 
 " Hain't that gospel truth ? " 
 
 Hain't that so ? " 
 
 " Hain't that good-sensed talk?" commented the 
 hearers. 
 
 " Hit was a day in March, if I hain't aout in my 
 reckoning' ' the old man went on ; " and John was a-ridin' 
 a black horse o' hisn that he sot a sight o' store by. 
 Hit was a powerful windy day, and he was a-ridin' slow, 
 when all of a suddent he saw TLmme/me Ark a-goin' on 
 ahead of him. She'd done got by him without his 
 seein' her, for thar warn't no place whar she could 'a 
 turned inter the road without passin' him. As I was 
 sayin', thar was a powerful wind blowin' that day, and 
 hit was blowin' from plumb ahead of John. Well, he 
 rode on, and Emme/zVz^ she went faster 'n him. When 
 she'd got a right smart away, he beared her mutter, 
 jist as she useter mutter when she come past his door, 
 ' You won't never git no more good o' that horse, John 
 Powell!' She never spoke up a mite. She jist mut- 
 tered hit low and angry-like. John beared hit, though. 
 Hit come to him on the wind as plain as if Emmetine 
 was standin' thar by his side. Hit was powerful funny, 
 but hit was so." 
 
 "I hain't doubt in' hit. Hit's strange enough, but 
 
VISITING THE SIN 115 
 
 hit's gospel truth. I've heared my dad tell abaout hit 
 years ago, and hit's sure as the grave." 
 
 The words came creaking out in hoarse, raspy tones, 
 as if the voice that uttered them had grown rusty with 
 age. 
 
 Heads wagged sagely at this corroboration of the 
 story, and twenty lips ceased puffing smoke as the bot- 
 toms of twenty pipes were reached. 
 
 "I hain't denyin' that John was scart some," pro- 
 ceeded the story-teller. " Hit stands to reason he was." 
 
 " That's powerful true." 
 
 " Hit does, and that's gospel truth." 
 
 Twenty pairs of hands were busy with twists of to- 
 bacco, and twenty pipes were emptied of their ashes. 
 
 "John rid on to whar he was goin'," resumed the 
 speaker; "but he hadn't no heart to stay. He thought 
 a powerful sight o* that black horse, and he was plumb 
 sure Emme/zV^ hadn't spoke for nothin'. And no 
 more she hadn't. He rid that horse home ; and, if you'll 
 believe hit," here the speaker leaned forward, scooped 
 up a hot coal from the fire, and deftly lighted the fresh 
 tobacco, " that animal wouldn't touch a mite o' food, 
 not to save his life." 
 
 Nineteen hands reached forward to the glowing 
 embers, and nineteen pairs of lips puffed silently ; then 
 twenty stars shone again in the darkness, and the 
 listeners found their voices. 
 
 "Thar hain't nary doubt of hit." 
 
 " Hit's jist like my old man told, hain't hit ? " 
 
 "Hit's a sight how sich things happen, but they du." 
 
 " The horse was sick for a mighty long spell," con- 
 tinued the old man, " and atter hit got well hit was that 
 contrairy that John didn't know which away to turn. 
 He done tried everything he knew, but he never got no 
 more good o' that black horse." 
 
 " I hain't doubtin* hit a bit," responded a little old 
 
u6 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 woman with a small shrunken face entirely dominated 
 by the eyes. "Thar's things I've seed myself that's 
 plumb took my breath away. Lor, thar's the match o' 
 that Emme/zW Ark left in more 'n one place yit." 
 
 " That's so." 
 
 "Thar hain't no doubt of hit." 
 
 " Hit wouldn't be powerful fur you'd hev to go to 
 find one" 
 
 A dozen heads nodded significantly towards the moun- 
 tains that lay over by the Gap, and for a moment 
 silence fell on the group. It is safe to say that the 
 thoughts of all the members of the party had travelled 
 in one direction. 
 
 " No, I hain't sayin' thar's ary thing that sort cain't 
 du when they're sot on hit," continued the little old 
 woman. " But hit's a si-ight how some people are scart 
 of 'em. Lor, hit hain't so plumb sure thar hain't ways 
 o' stoppin' 'em." 
 
 A dozen elbows made comment in the shape of vigor- 
 ous nudges. 
 
 "Thar was a man up to Laurel Fork that I heared 
 my mam tell abaout," the little old woman went on, 
 " and he and his woman was the determindest pair the 
 sun ever sot eyes on. What he started aout to du was 
 plumb sure to be done, and what she aimed at she was 
 never knowed to miss." 
 
 " We-ell ! Hear that now ! " 
 
 Elbows moved eloquently, and the old woman pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 " Thar warn't no wizard nor witch a match for the-em. 
 Not that they was let alone. Thar was plenty that had 
 a grudge agin' 'em. Thar mostly is, when folks is pretty 
 prosperous. Thar hain't never no lack of ill wishers 
 when a body's gittin' up in the world." 
 
 " Hain't that gospel truth ? " 
 
 "Hain't that so?" 
 
VISITING THE SIN 117 
 
 " Hain't that powerful sure ? " 
 
 Nudging became energetic. 
 
 "Thar came a time," continued the speaker, "when 
 the cow they was dependin' on failed 'em all at onct. 
 They didn't git more 'n a quart at a milkin', and she'd 
 been a givin' nigh upon a bucketful twice a day. They 
 said nary word the fust time hit happened, but the 
 next" 
 
 She stopped impressively, and the elbows moved. 
 
 " When hit come home to that man that his cow was 
 spelt," she resumed, "thar was a powerful time. Him 
 and his woman was plumb put aout. ' I reckon I know 
 who's to blame for hit/ he says. * I'll fix hi-im afore he's 
 a day older.' So he took the little bitty drap o' milk 
 she'd give, and went inter the house. * Thar's ways o* 
 fixin' hi-im,' says he." 
 
 " And he was ri-ight. That's gospel truth," broke in 
 a listener. "Thar is ways." 
 
 "I reckon," replied the narrator. "He warn't a 
 plumb fool. < What '11 you du ? ' asked his woman. * I'll 
 shoot him,' he says, for he was powerful worked up. 
 'But you hain't sure which on 'em hit is,' she says. 
 ' Thar's more 'n one around here would powerful like to 
 he'p us on to sorrer.' < Then I'll find aout,' says he, loud 
 and angry. ' /'// draw him here, let him come from this 
 away or that away.' ' I hain't a-blamin' ye,' says his 
 woman ; and with that he tuk the milk " 
 
 " That you, Abner Poteet ? Howdy ! Coin' to wait 
 for the preachin ' ? " 
 
 The interruption came from the oldest man in the 
 company. He turned to greet a new-comer. 
 
 " Howdy. Yes, I reckon I will. Hain't the preacher 
 come along yit ? " 
 
 The speaker, a broad-shouldered, broad-chested man 
 of thirty or thereabouts, stopped where the firelight 
 shone full on his face. His lips smiled tentatively, as if 
 the smile were not fully assured of its welcome. 
 
n8 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Come and set a bit,' ' invited the old man who had 
 interrupted the story. " He'll likely be here afore long." 
 
 "Well, I hain't sure that I won't. Hit's powerful 
 lonesome aout thar in the dark." 
 
 The new-comer accommodated himself with a seat on 
 the grass. 
 
 " We're a-settin' and talkin' a bit," explained the old 
 man. " We had a check o' supper awhile ago, and now 
 we're fillin' up the time till preachin'. We done found 
 the fire the best company." 
 
 " Hit is that," replied the younger man. 
 
 " You'd oughter brought a horse-shoe along, Ab, to 
 keep off the witches," said another of the old men. 
 " Ab hain't powerful fond o' witches," he added. 
 
 "No, I hain't," said the younger man. "I hain't no 
 reason to be, and no more hain't nobody. Thar hain't 
 no call to make jokes abaout 'em. They du a sight o' 
 mischief, and the trouble they make hain't no joke." 
 
 "That's powerful true. That's jist what I was a- 
 sayin'," continued the little old woman, eager to take up 
 the thread of her story. "That man and his woman 
 that I was a-tellin' abaout thought jist as you du. Hit 
 warn't no joke to them, losin' the milk o' their best cow. 
 I'll fix him; says he ; and with that he put the drap o' 
 milk she'd give right into a pot, and hung hit plumb 
 over the fire. ' Go and git some holly brush/ says he, 
 and his woman got hit. And them two stood and 
 whipped that milk with the holly brush till they'd 
 whipped hit clar outer the pot, and when hit was all 
 gone he says, 'Thar, now we'll see who's the witch.' " 
 
 "That's so. That's gospel truth, hain't hit?" inter- 
 rupted another old woman. " Hit's a gue-ude way to find 
 aout, and I don't know as thar's a better." 
 
 "Well," resumed the story-teller, "they waited. 
 And hit warn't long afore in come an old man that was 
 neighbour to 'em. He looked all doubled up and tol'ra- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 119 
 
 ble mis'rable, and, when the woman seed him, she 
 hitched her husband. ' See that ? ' says she. And he 
 hitched her back, and 'Keep still, don't say a word/ 
 says he. And the man come in, and drapped on a seat. 
 He was all done aout, he was that mis'rable and suf- 
 ferin'. ' I want to borrer your nag and the meal-sack,' 
 says he." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " Hear that ! " 
 
 "We-ellnow!" 
 
 The comments over, the old woman resumed. 
 
 "'Git him the meal-sack,' says the man, and his 
 woman got up, and give hit to him. They seed him 
 ride away, all doubled up and sufferin'. ' Thar,' says the 
 man, 'I knowed hit was hi-im.' 'We've done fixed 
 him,' says his woman. ' He cain't du us no more harm 
 now he's done borrered ary thing of ourn. Thar '11 be 
 plenty o' milk to-night.' And thar was," continued the 
 old woman. "Hit warn't more 'n an hour afore they 
 seed that thar neighbour come ridin' back, whistlin' and 
 comfortable. 'You thought you'd done a fine thing 
 makin' me borrer your nag and your meal-sack,' he 
 says ; but he looked plumb foolish when he said hit. 
 ' You let my cows alone atter this, or I'll du somethin' 
 worse,' says the man, and he spoke gospel truth." 
 
 "That's so." 
 
 " That's powerful true." 
 
 "He could 'a done hit," came the response from dif- 
 ferent lips. 
 
 " Yes, he could 'a done hit ; and he knowed hit. Him 
 and his woman " 
 
 " Look thar ! Hain't that the preacher ? " 
 
 The eyes of the little woman rolled round in the di- 
 rection indicated. 
 
 " Hit's tol'rable plain that hit is," she said. 
 
 " Then we'll be gittin' ur-rp. Thar won't be a sight 
 more time afore the preachin'." 
 
120 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Limbs grown a little stiffer than usual from long sit- 
 ting stretched themselves, and their owners struggled 
 to their feet. The men stuffed their pipes into their 
 pockets, and the women deposited theirs in little bags 
 hanging upon their arms. 
 
 "Here, granny, here's yer poke. Better be toFrable 
 quick gittin' yer pipe put away in hit. We'll set off when 
 you're ready. Thar hain't goin' to be near enough 
 rue-ume in thar for us-all." 
 
 The trembling fingers of the oldest woman of the 
 party clutched the little bag held towards her, and feebly 
 dropped pipe and tobacco therein. 
 
 " Yes, we'll be a-goin'," she said, fumbling at the 
 strings. " I'd be awful proud to hear the preachin'." 
 
 She hung the "poke" on her arm, and started for the 
 nearest house. It was not large enough to accommo- 
 date a quarter of the company assembled. Before 
 many minutes its rooms were packed with old men and 
 women and a sprinkling of the younger element. Of 
 this latter there was a larger representation outside. 
 
 Abner Poteet was one of those who found a seat 
 within the house. He took up a position near a win- 
 dow, where he could see the faces massed close to the 
 opening. It was no new thing to see Abner at a 
 preaching. There was not a sermon that had been 
 preached in Big Creek Gap for years that Abner Poteet 
 had not listened to, listened to, not simply attended. 
 The deep-set, honest eyes under Abner 's shaggy eye- 
 brows had a trick of fastening themselves on the preach- 
 er's lips and remaining immovable. It would have been 
 possible, by watching those eyes, for a deaf man to in- 
 form himself of the trend of the sermon. Wistful and 
 questioning when dogmatic teaching fell from the 
 preacher's lips, they grew sad and solemn under mes- 
 sages of warning ; and when the speaker waxed eloquent 
 in denunciation, the eyes took to themselves an expres- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 121 
 
 sion of trembling fear. They had been known to 
 darken with horror under the vivid pictures of future 
 wrath presented by some especially powerful speaker, 
 and to melt with tenderness when a rare message of 
 peace dropped from the lips of a more gentle herald of 
 truth. 
 
 To-night they wandered a little, but that was before 
 the preaching began. The wandering must have been 
 caused by the proximity of the window, for it was in 
 that direction they turned. Or perhaps it was not so 
 much the window that was to blame as the heads that 
 could be seen close to it, clustered outside in the light 
 that streamed dimly through the open space. A dozen 
 lanterns or more, and two or three lamps, illumined the 
 interior, but outside the light shone faintly, putting the 
 faces in half shadow. 
 
 Was it the old face or the young one, in a pair so 
 close together that a glance at one necessarily included 
 the other, that drew the eyes of Abner Poteet from the 
 lighted room to the darker exterior, or were the faces in 
 no way responsible, but the look one of mere curiosity 
 to ascertain how many people were gathering about the 
 building ? Any man might have been excused for turn- 
 ing his head to look again at those faces, though one 
 was the face of an elderly woman. A little, sinewy 
 figure, with the grace of perfect proportion, was the 
 foundation for a small, well-poised head that held itself 
 fearlessly. Its owner had seen some fifty years of life, 
 but, to all appearance, she had seen therein nothing to 
 daunt her or to bring fear to those bright black eyes 
 that looked mirthfully or wrathfully out on the world, as 
 the case might be, but never looked helplessly or hope- 
 lessly thereat. The small, gypsy-like face wore the rich, 
 dark tint more often seen in real southern climes, and 
 the mouth, that looked as if fashioned solely for pur- 
 poses of beauty, but that could open in forcible speech 
 
122 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 on occasion, was warm with the hue of perfect health. 
 It was hardly a wonder that Abner Poteet looked more 
 than once at that face or was it at the one held near, 
 but a full head above ? The same dark rich tint, the 
 same brightness of colouring, the same perfection of 
 form, were prominent in that younger face ; but, though 
 this lacked nothing in sprightliness, it gained something 
 in stateliness. A veritable gypsy queen was this girl 
 who stood by her mother's side, and looked in at the 
 window when the preaching was about to begin. 
 
 An expression akin to contentment settled on Abner's 
 face as he saw the two pressed closer to the window by 
 the action of the crowd beyond. Was he blessing the 
 fate that made it not quite easy for the pair to move 
 away until the sermon was over ? 
 
 There would in any case have been little fear. The 
 preacher that night was a " powerful eloquent man, " a 
 light in the community where his name never failed to 
 draw a crowd of listeners. A good, strong-voiced, strong- 
 bodied, strong-minded man was this preacher of to-night, 
 one who felt that he knew well the ways of the Governor 
 of this world, and that those ways as he knew them 
 were right. He had as little doubt of his knowledge as 
 he had of the wisdom of the ways that to him were very 
 far from being "past finding out." A whole-souled, 
 determined man, whose preaching was calculated to dis- 
 turb sinners and strengthen saints, if they were not 
 timorous saints, and were quite sure of their sainthood, 
 was this chosen speaker. And, before he had con- 
 cluded his sermon, he felt that he had had a good time, 
 and that his words had not fallen short of their designed 
 effect. 
 
 He would have been still more sure, had he looked 
 into the eyes of Abner Poteet. They were placid and 
 satisfied hopeful even when he gave out his text. 
 Then there came upon them a darkness as sudden as 
 
VISITING THE SIN 123 
 
 the eclipse of the sunlight when the sky is over-swept by 
 a thunder-cloud driven before a strong wind. 
 
 " Visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children, 
 unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate 
 me." 
 
 In deep, sonorous tones the words rolled out through 
 the crowded rooms. Old men and women settled them- 
 selves comfortably to listen ; and one hearer, and only 
 one, gave a start as of horror. 
 
 " The sins of the fathers ! " 
 
 Abner Poteet turned from the speaker, and sent one 
 quick, almost imploring glance at the face framed in the 
 window opening. The eyes were not looking his way, 
 and he turned back to the preacher. 
 
 That text lost no force in the hands of the exhorter 
 chosen for this particular evening. He intended his 
 sermon as a warning, and he meant that it should be 
 profitable. He dealt in sorrow and doom, in the fore- 
 ordained punishment of the children of evil doers. His 
 thoughts were so full of the evil doers that there was no 
 room left in them for the children doomed to the visi- 
 tation of wrath. He spoke of sin ; and his voice rose and 
 rose till it filled the room and overflowed it, and went 
 ringing down to Big Creek itself, grown still now, and 
 glimmering with but a faint, sad light from the dying 
 fires. And still it rose, and the blackness of sin grew 
 more apparent, till the strength of the preacher long 
 enduring gave out, and the voice broke and needed 
 the refreshment of the water placed conveniently near. 
 
 The speaker would have been more than ever assured 
 that his sermon was a success if he had chanced to look 
 into one pair of eyes, fixed as if in fascination upon him. 
 Shame and horror mingled there with hopeless assent. 
 The listener made no mental protest. His eyes acqui- 
 esced in the proposition of the exceeding evil of sin, and 
 took the strong accusations of the preacher home as if 
 by right. 
 
124 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 But when the speaker came to the second half of his 
 discourse, and turned to the fate of the children of evil 
 doers, an expression of positive fear came upon the 
 broad, open face of the listener. The hand that lay 
 upon his knee shook. Visited on the children ! The 
 justice of such visitation was clear enough to the trem- 
 bling heart of the hearer, as clear as to the brain of the 
 preacher, where the doctrine of unmitigated but vicari- 
 ously deserved punishment had been worked out in bold, 
 convincing arguments. Visited on the children ! Why 
 not except that the preacher showed no under side of 
 love and tenderness present even in the visitation ? 
 
 "What will you bring against the verdict ? " cried the 
 speaker, in a voice that would have brought the roof off 
 that Big Creek cottage if the wooden pins with which it 
 was secured had not been tied firmly in beneath. As it 
 was, it only took away the breath of the speaker and 
 the last ray of hope from the heart of a hearer. 
 
 "Nothing," whispered that heart, in patient acqui- 
 escence in sorrow. 
 
 "That's powerful convincing" whispered a croaking 
 voice, as an old man leaned forward to his " old woman " 
 to express his appreciation of the sermon. 
 
 She nodded assent, and the room became expectantly 
 silent again. The preacher was ready to proceed. 
 
 "To the third and fourth generation." 
 
 Abner Poteet started. To the third and fourth ? 
 What ? Would the curse not stop at the heart that felt 
 it weighing down within itself, heavy enough to sink all 
 joy and bitter enough to poison all good ? The third 
 and fourth generation ? Abner Poteet cast one long, 
 despairing glance at that brightly tinted face by the 
 window. 
 
 "Hit's got to stop right here that visitin'," he 
 whispered. " She hain't goin' to share hit, nor none 
 that would be hers. The third and fourth generation ! " 
 
VISITING THE SIN 125 
 
 His hand went up and wiped drops of perspiration 
 from his forehead and lips. The eloquence of the 
 speaker remained unabated. 
 
 " Hain't that God Almighty's truth ? " asked an old 
 woman when the congregation dispersed ; and she never 
 doubted that it was, and the whole of it. 
 
 As for one sore heart, it had no courage left to allow 
 its owner to seek, even for a moment, the presence of 
 the girl who turned away from the window and was 
 quickly lost in the darkness. Abner Poteet went home- 
 ward alone, shunning the groups who were loudly dis- 
 cussing the sermon just ended. That solitary journey 
 was sure proof of the engrossment of his thoughts. 
 On any other occasion he would have sought the com- 
 pany of one of the parties that trooped behind a glim- 
 mering lantern carried by some traveller of forethought. 
 To-night he avoided them all. 
 
 Down the steep rocky road that led past the new 
 mill, and out into the valley road, to the hollow, where, 
 backed by low hills, the old house that Naomi had no- 
 ticed frowned dark and solemn, Abner walked, his 
 thoughts still of the sermon. 
 
 " I knowed hit afore. Hit hain't as if hit was new," 
 he said, and there were none to see that in the darkness 
 his lips trembled. When he came directly opposite the 
 big, silent house, from the windows of which no friendly 
 light looked out, he stopped, and stood staring at its 
 dark outline. It was years since Abner Poteet had 
 stood before that house without the comfortable pres- 
 ence of daylight to reassure him. 
 
 "The sins of the fathers ! " he whispered ; and a deep 
 shudder passed through his frame. His hands shook as 
 with palsy. 
 
 " A life for a life ! " he muttered, after a long silence. 
 " That hain't the end of hit. That's only in this world, 
 and man's visitin'. Thar's more 'n that. Thar's God's 
 
126 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 visitin'. Thar's a many that '11 be shet aout, but thar's 
 a special visitin' o' wrath on them that's the children of 
 evil doers. Thar's a singlin' aout from among the rest 
 to visit on 'em the evil their fathers deserved. Thar's 
 their own sins, and their fathers', too." 
 
 He turned away with one last, long, shuddering look 
 at the dark building that seemed in some mysterious way 
 to be connected with the sermon of the evening. 
 
 Still along the valley road, but away from instead of 
 towards the village of Big Creek Gap, Abner Poteet 
 stumbled in the darkness. A single turn brought him 
 in sight of a little log cabin standing back from the 
 road. He pushed open a gate, latching it carefully be- 
 hind him, and walked heavily up the path. No light 
 greeted him here, any more than at the larger house he 
 had just left ; but he did not shudder as he stooped to fit 
 the key in the old wooden lock. A faint red glow from 
 the hearth met his eye as he came within the room. It 
 brought with it a dim sense of comfort and safety. 
 Hastily closing the door, stepping over the deeply 
 burned impression of a horseshoe on the threshold, im- 
 printed there for safety against the wiles of the witches, 
 Abner came over and raked the embers together. Then 
 he reached out, and took a handful of chips from a box 
 by the chimney corner. In a moment a bright flame 
 shot up, and showed the clean, bare room, empty of 
 everything but the simplest necessaries of existence. 
 
 The owner of the dwelling stood and looked round it, 
 with a dazed expression on his face. Gradually, as his 
 eyes fell on familiar objects, the lines softened. He 
 dragged an old wooden arm-chair to the hearth, and sat 
 down on it. His foot touched a hot horseshoe kept in 
 the embers to insure the safety of the chickens against 
 hawks. 
 
 " They're he'pless things, and cain't fight with a hawk. 
 We've done got to he'p 'em," Abner had said when he 
 
VISITING THE SIN 
 
 put the cold iron on the hearth. " Thar's nary hawk 
 can swoop down on 'em while that's thar. Hit may 
 hover, and hover, and lueke tol'rable like swoopin' ; but 
 hit cain't never hurt 'em while the horse-shoe's warm on 
 the hearth inside." 
 
 His eyes were not on the horse-shoe to-night. He 
 had forgotten it was there. His thoughts were of ward- 
 ing off evil ; but before his mind's eye was a beautiful 
 girlish face, quivering with life. He looked round on 
 the room and its furnishings. 
 
 " Hit hain't like she's got, but she could 'a made hit 
 'most as good as hern," he said wistfully. " I'd 'a 
 built another rue-ume or two, and we-uns could 'a gone 
 away to the store and got a right smart o' things " 
 
 His voice dropped into silence, and left the picture 
 unfinished. The wistful look deepened, and became one 
 of positive pain. 
 
 " The third and fourth generation ! " he said at last. 
 " Hit '11 stop afore hit gits thar. Thar shain't be more 'n 
 the one generation to bear hit." 
 
 He dropped his head on his hands, and the room was 
 still as death. 
 
128 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 BIG Creek Gap had become a reality to the son 
 and daughter of Dalbert Mozingo the elder. And 
 the mystery of the past had resolved itself into a 
 wild, horror-laden suspicion, that took hold of the brother 
 and sister and refused to be shaken off. Naomi made 
 no effort to be rid of it. Strong of courage and of pas- 
 sion, the girl's heart afforded a dangerous resting-place 
 for hints such as those dropped by the stranger of the 
 Gap. They had set her brain and soul on fire. The 
 spirit of the mountains in their fiercer mood was strongly 
 incorporated with the gentler phases of the Southern 
 character in this maid of the Kentucky hills. She found 
 in her heart no shrinking from a knowledge of the truth. 
 Pity for the fate of the father she had loved with all the 
 passion of a child's tenderness was so mingled with the 
 fire of fierce wrath against his murderer that its pain 
 was scorched out of recognition. Her heart was sore, 
 but it was as much with anger as with grief. 
 
 Not so her brother. With Dalbert every filial feeling 
 protested against this solution of the mystery. It had 
 been bad enough to think of his father as the victim of 
 some terrible accident, but to believe that he died thus 
 He recoiled from the thought with horror. He would 
 have been glad to shake it off, to believe the whole story 
 a fabrication of the old man's who had acted as guide 
 through the pass. Perhaps he would have succeeded 
 but for his sister. She said little on the subject after 
 the first day of their arrival at Big Creek. But he knew 
 she had not forgotten. 
 
 For the present there was much to be done in the 
 
VISITING THE SIN 129 
 
 way of establishing themselves in the village. The mill 
 owner proved a zealous assistant in the matter of finding 
 a habitation and settling his new superintendent or 
 rather his superintendent's sister therein. His good- 
 humoured laugh rang out through the empty house ; and, 
 when the household goods arrived, he turned his hand 
 to furnishing with a readiness of resource that amused 
 Naomi. 
 
 "You can attend to the mill, Dal," he would say, 
 with amazing coolness dismissing his assistant to his 
 duties. " You understand that business better than I 
 do. I'm no hand at machinery. I'll stay with your 
 sister here, and see she don't get lonesome." 
 
 And he did see. Between his assistance and the 
 amount of work to be done, Naomi found the days any- 
 thing but long. The life at Big Creek Gap was wider 
 than that at Cedar Fork ; and the mill owner, though 
 comparatively a new-comer himself, could give much in- 
 formation regarding it. Already Cedar Fork was as- 
 suming the mistier forms of the past, as Big Creek and 
 its possible tragedy grew fuller and clearer in Naomi's 
 sight. 
 
 In Big Creek Gap tragedy was surely not all of the 
 past. There was trace of it, even to-day, in the wrin- 
 kled, determined face pressed close to the window-pane of 
 Naomi's kitchen. For a moment a pair of old eyes and 
 a pair of young ones met. Only for a moment. Then 
 the old eyes went down ; and the figure stooped till the 
 hands, with long claw-shaped nails that had been un- 
 trimmed for years, scraped the ground as if in search of 
 roots. Those deep-set, angry eyes had looked into the 
 girl's face before, looked leisurely, from the shelter of a 
 great rock upon the other side of Big Creek Gap. They 
 were nearer now, and the gaze was of necessity more 
 hurried. There was nothing but the window between 
 the old face and the young one, and that would not 
 
130 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 intervene long. Naomi's hand was already on the 
 sash. 
 
 " Who is she, and what does she want ? " she asked, 
 startled by the gleam of those fierce eyes. 
 
 Naomi had not been present at the meetings of the 
 Baptist " Association " the day before, or those eyes 
 might have recalled to her stories of witches and witch- 
 craft. The face pressed close to the window glass was 
 the only old face for miles around that had not been 
 seen in that gathering of the ancient representatives of 
 Big Creek Gap and its neighbourhood. 
 
 The sash for a moment resisted the girl's efforts. 
 Then it yielded. 
 
 " Were you looking for me ? " she began, and stopped. 
 The space without the house was empty. 
 
 " She must be a witch," exclaimed Naomi, with a half 
 laugh. She did not know how unanimously Big Creek 
 would have echoed her words. 
 
 She went outside, and looked round the corner of the 
 house. Unless her gaze had penetrated a dense clump 
 of bushes some hundred yards away, she could not have 
 found the figure she sought. Strange and unlike the 
 community about her was the woman who crouched 
 among those bushes and peered out at the girl. From 
 the brogans that covered her feet to the limp, unkempt 
 hair beneath the man's hat upon her head, she was an 
 object peculiar enough to warrant the awed curiosity 
 with which Big Creek regarded her when she passed. 
 Her brown wrinkled hands were suggestive of a 
 mummy, but the curve of the lips told of a spirit very 
 much alive within that dried-up outer case of flesh. 
 
 " No, hit's plumb sure. Thar hain't nary place for 
 doubt. Thar's no mistakin' that face anywhars. Thar '11 
 come evil aout of hit to somebody." 
 
 There was a sinister gleam in the eyes ; and the lips 
 that had opened to disclose two solitary, tusk-like teeth, 
 
VISITING THE SIN 131 
 
 set in the upper and lower jaw respectively, shut with a 
 snap. 
 
 If Naomi had seen that mouth and those eyes just 
 then, it is possible she would not have gone back into 
 the kitchen so contentedly, nor have left it as readily a 
 few minutes later to run across to the nearest house. 
 She had hardly disappeared when a tall, bent form came 
 boldly out of the bushes, and walked into the kitchen 
 the girl had just left. The old woman glanced curiously 
 round the room, and passed on. Was it by some occult 
 means that she divined the direction in which to turn 
 her steps ? Possibly there were signs by which she 
 recognized a maiden's chamber, but of a certainty she 
 did not hesitate. Her feet carried her unfalteringly into 
 the room which the girl had appropriated as her own. 
 
 "Thar is ways," she said, and advanced to the bed, 
 covered with a wondrous quilt of elaborate design. 
 
 Was she studying the workmanship of that quilt, that 
 she bent over it so assiduously, the dry, wrinkled fingers 
 of one hand clutching it tightly as those of the other 
 moved over its surface ? 
 
 "Thar is ways," she repeated, as she crossed the 
 threshold again ; and she said the words aloud. 
 
 She was hardly out of sight on her way to the Gap 
 when a boy darted into the house where Naomi was 
 talking to a neighbour. 
 
 "Lor me! you've had a visitor," he shouted, inter- 
 rupting the conversation with the assurance of the 
 bearer of news. 
 
 Naomi turned to him with a smile. 
 
 " Who was it ? " she asked with some indifference. 
 
 " China Partins. Lor ! you don't know he-er. She's 
 a wi-itch ! " 
 
 The shock head of the boy wagged with importance. 
 He looked from one to the other of his hearers. 
 
 " What was she doin' thar ? " 
 
132 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The woman's voice rose with excitement. She could 
 appreciate the situation better than could this girl who 
 was a stranger. 
 
 " I hain't plumb sure," responded the boy. " She was 
 in thar a right smart while." 
 
 "Better go and see, girl," advised the woman, and 
 she manifested her appreciation of her own advice by 
 following it herself. 
 
 " Lor me ! China Partins don't go inter no house for 
 nothin'," she remarked, as she hurried along by Naomi's 
 side. "Thar wouldn't many welcome her, and she 
 knows hit, though thar hain't one in twenty dare shew 
 her she hain't wanted. You mark my words, darter, she 
 hain't up to no good." 
 
 The house was as Naomi had left it, or appeared to 
 be so. It was not until they went into Naomi's room 
 that sign of the visitor was discovered. It was the 
 neighbour who stepped hastily over to the bed, and 
 stood for a full minute silently contemplating the quilt, 
 a magnificent specimen of the lone star pattern. 
 
 " Lor me ! Mercy sakes ! " she gasped at last. 
 "Hain't that jist what I said? I knowed she warn't 
 here for no good. Look a-thar, girl ! " 
 
 Naomi's eyes followed the direction of the extended 
 finger, and lighted upon the quilt. What strange freak 
 was this, for an old woman to come sticking needles 
 and pins in her bed ? Naomi counted them hastily, 
 eighteen in all, nine of a kind. Then she stood staring 
 at them in blank astonishment. 
 
 "Nine new needles and nine new pins," said the 
 neighbour, in awed tones. " They're plumb new, every 
 one of 'em. Lor! hit's awful." 
 
 Naomi looked down upon them. Yes, they were 
 surely new, every one of the eighteen. She was too 
 thoroughly a mountain girl herself not to understand 
 that their appearance there was a threat of evil. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 133 
 
 " Hit's a spell, that's what hit is," said the woman, 
 impressively. 
 
 Naomi laughed, but the laugh was not quite easy. 
 
 " Why should she have a grudge against me ? " she said. 
 " The old woman must be crazy." 
 
 " No, she hain't," was the response. " China Partins 
 hain't crazy, though she's a hundred if she's a day. 
 She's a wi-itch, that's what she is. Lor! everybody's 
 scart at her. Thar hain't nobody been inside her 
 house this ten year and more. Thar was old A'nt 
 Riley 'lowed she'd go thar and visit. Mercy! She 
 sot aout, but she never got thar. No, she didn't. 
 China Partins met her in the Gap, and she muttered 
 words that started A'nt Riley's teeth chatterin', and 
 afore she knowed hit she was turnin' round to come 
 back this away. She didn't git home so easy, though. 
 Gin she'd got nigh upon clar o' the Gap, thar come up 
 sich thunder and lightnin' as warn't never seed this away 
 neither before nor since. Yes'm. And A'nt Riley was 
 shocked by the lightnin'. She warn't killed, but she was 
 shocked powerful bad. She didn't come to herself for 
 hours atter, and when she did, she 'lowed it was all along 
 o' China Partins. Yes, she's a witch, sure enough. Hit 
 hain't safe to contrairy her." 
 
 Naomi was at a loss to know how she had "contrai- 
 ried" this old woman whom she did not even know. 
 She would have denied the possibility altogether, but the 
 memory of those fierce-looking eyes that had gazed in at 
 her through the glass arrested the denial as well as the 
 laugh that was on her lips. How she had " contrairied " 
 her she could not tell, but the fact seemed fairly evident. 
 
 As she drew the needles and pins from the quilt, the 
 girl was wondering whether danger still lurked in this 
 Tennessee valley as it had lurked when her father came 
 here years before. 
 
 " The old hag ! " said Will Hollingsworth, when he 
 
134 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 came in with Dal that evening and heard the story. 
 " We shall have to teach her better manners." 
 
 Dalbert took the matter more seriously. 
 
 " She resents our coming here, for some reason," he 
 said. " It looks mighty like trying to drive us away." 
 
 "Let her try," responded Naomi, with the slightest 
 possible access of colour in her cheeks. " It will take 
 more than old China Part ins for tha-at." 
 
 Dalbert had not much time to spare for witches. He 
 was throwing his whole heart into his new work. Will 
 Hollingsworth smiled, a little satirically, at the amount 
 of energy expended by the new superintendent. There 
 was not as much to do here as at Cedar Fork, for the 
 mill owner confined his attention simply to the working 
 of the mill, leaving the cutting of the timber in other 
 hands. 
 
 " You look as if you might pick up the mill and carry 
 it away in your arms one of these days," laughed the 
 owner. " You are too desperately in earnest for this 
 little venture." 
 
 " I feel like running away with something," replied 
 Dalbert. " It's all very well for you to take things 
 quietly. You haven't to make up for your own folly and 
 another man's dishonesty." 
 
 Will shrugged his shoulders. The motion said that 
 it would take more than a few debts to disturb the even 
 tenor of his way. He watched with amusement his su- 
 perintendent's feverish eagerness to pay off old claims. 
 
 " He's a young idiot who will learn better as he grows 
 older or perhaps not even then," he said with a 
 laugh. 
 
 However it might be with the superintendent, the 
 superintendent's sister met with the mill owner's entire 
 approval. By a certain law of gravitation his feet turned 
 often in the direction of the Gap, for it was at that end 
 of the village that Naomi had established herself. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 135 
 
 "Lucky fellow, that Dal," he said with an openly 
 appealing glance at Naomi. " Why don't all men have 
 sisters?" 
 
 "They do, most of them," said Naomi, demurely. 
 
 " Sisters ! Yes, too many of them. But a feller 
 wants the right sort." 
 
 "The sort depend on the feller mostly," she said. 
 " It makes a powerful difference what kind of man a 
 girl is sister to." 
 
 "And I'm not the right kind?" he asked, his eyes 
 laughing into hers. 
 
 " I'll tell you when I see you with your sister," she 
 said. " Hasty judgments are powerful dangerous." 
 
 " They're not the only things that are powerful dan- 
 gerous," he said, looking again into her eyes. 
 
 More than two weeks had gone by since Naomi and 
 Dalbert rode through the Gap, when a pair of vindictive 
 eyes again peered down into the pass from behind a 
 rock. They shone just as they had shone when the 
 brother and sister passed beneath them. Old China 
 Partins was not in a serene state of mind, had not 
 been in a serene state of mind since that day when she 
 looked down from beyond this gateway of the mountains 
 and saw the two travellers approaching. As a rule, the 
 comings and goings of the inhabitants of Big Creek Gap 
 troubled her little. For some inexplicable reason these 
 new-comers stood on a different footing. 
 
 " I hain't carin ' abaout the boy," muttered the old 
 woman. "He's safe enough. He's got his work to at- 
 tend to, and he'll attend to hit. But the gal thar's 
 no account in' for he-er. What's that ?" 
 
 The long, shrivelled neck reached out till the eyes 
 could look down down over the precipitous slopes. 
 The ears were listening for a repetition of the sound. 
 It came, the thud of feet upon the hillside, followed by 
 the rattle of falling stones. Whatever was approaching 
 
136 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 was beneath an overhanging rock, and could not yet be 
 discerned. China Partins waited. 
 
 " Hit's the horse she was a ridin'. Hit hain't throwed 
 her, though, more's the pity." 
 
 A smile that was as uncanny as the lurid gleam of fire 
 from the heart of a thunder-cloud greeted the appear- 
 ance of Duke's head round a projecting rock. The ab- 
 sence of saddle or bridle presently confirmed the old 
 woman's statement that the horse had not thrown his 
 rider. 
 
 If Duke had seen the smile on those thin lips, he 
 might have taken warning ; for Duke was a wise horse. 
 As it was, he came on, going upward because it was 
 easier than going downward. Was it a memory of 
 Cedar Fork, a hankering after the old pastures, that had 
 induced the horse to leave the lower stretches of un- 
 fenced land where he had been feeding, and take to the 
 mountain ? Duke had lost his bearings, and wandered 
 into the Gap. Then some impulse of the moment or 
 some memory of the past set him climbing, and his 
 climbing brought him beneath the eye of China Partins. 
 
 Duke was sure-footed as a rule. Many a steep hill- 
 side had he surmounted, with Naomi on his back. The 
 spirit of the mountaineer was in the horse. Yet he 
 gave a snort of disapproval or fear when a big stone 
 gave way under his feet, and almost precipitated him to 
 the jagged rocks immediately below. He had not alto- 
 gether reckoned on the steepness of the way when he 
 began the ascent. Still, he went on, planting his feet 
 cautiously upon the loosening stones, and springing for- 
 ward. He did not see the figure that drew itself to its 
 full height, sheltering behind a projecting rock. It was 
 in the most slippery and precipitous part of the ascent, 
 when the top was almost gained, that those bright, 
 steely eyes looked straight into his from over a boulder, 
 and a harsh, discordant voice broke into a laugh. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 137 
 
 The eyes and the laugh were responsible for the sud- 
 den swerving aside of the horse, and the swerving aside 
 was responsible for what followed. When Duke lay, a 
 quivering, shuddering body, bruised and battered upon 
 the jagged rocks half-way down the mountain, that laugh 
 went out again upon the air. 
 
 " She hain't goin' to ride you-u through the Gap any 
 more." 
 
 Yes, Duke was a wise horse, in spite of the mistake 
 he made that morning. He heard the voice above him ; 
 but, while his great, pathetic eyes swept the hillside for 
 a possible rescuer, he uttered no whinny of appeal to 
 that presence upon the top of the mountain. It was not 
 until footsteps were heard below that his first cry of dis- 
 tress broke the stillness of Big Creek Gap. It came 
 before the girl's voice called his name in the distance, or 
 her musical whistle vibrated through the air. Duke did 
 not wait for the voice of his mistress. He had heard 
 her footsteps long before. 
 
 " Duke ! Duke, my beauty ! " 
 
 She was by his side upon the mountain, her face close 
 to his. The great, despairing eyes looked into hers, and 
 the horse slowly and painfully raised his head. Then it 
 fell back heavily as he gave up the attempt with a low 
 moan of pain. 
 
 "Duke! Duke! why did you come here? There's 
 evil in this valley," said the girl, in a low, sorrowful 
 tone, her hand the while caressing her favourite's nose. 
 
 She was so intent upon watching Duke that she did 
 not see that another was watching her from above, nor 
 know that a heavy lump of rock was held at full length 
 by a powerful arm. Was there no sixth sense to warn 
 her of the moment when that messenger of death hung 
 fairly over her head ? 
 
 " Hit's abaout as safe as ary way," whispered a voice 
 that trembled with something more than age. 
 
1 3 8 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The parchment face of China Partins worked con- 
 vulsively, as her arm stronger yet than that of half 
 the men of Big Creek straightened itself out to hold 
 that murderous lump of rock in a position from which 
 it could best crush the life out of the lithe, girlish form 
 below. 
 
 "Thar's evil got to come to somebody," muttered 
 the old woman. Hatred, hesitation, anger, determina- 
 tion, passed in turn over her face. Then the arm was 
 stretched over the mountain side a little further, the 
 fingers began to relax, and stopped. In the old face 
 hatred had given place to fear. 
 
 There was no change in the position below, except 
 that a pair of dark eyes, with tears in them, had turned 
 upward, not to the mountain ledge, but to the blue sky 
 over the heads of watcher and watched. 
 
 " I cain't du hit not with them eyes a-lookin' up. 
 Curse her ! What right has she to them ? " 
 
 The hand was drawn back, trembling. The stone 
 dropped harmlessly to the ground. And the girl below 
 never knew how near she had come to sharing the same 
 fate with Duke, death upon the mountain side. 
 
 " Duke, dear old Duke, good-by." 
 
 She had been looking into the animal's eyes and see- 
 ing the suffering there. Now she put her trembling 
 lips down upon his nose, and felt the quiver of pain and 
 longing. The next moment her hand had sought and 
 found a remedy. She applied it unshrinkingly. There 
 came the sharp, ringing sound of a shot, one low moan, 
 and Duke's pain was over. 
 
 The girl watched till the supple limbs began to grow 
 cold, and then, with lips pressed tightly together, and 
 eyes that were unseeing, made her way down the hillside, 
 oppressed with a sense of ill. Many minutes before, an 
 old woman had moved hurriedly away up on the moun- 
 tain top, rage and disappointment making tumult in her 
 
VISITING THE SIN 139 
 
 heart. Whatever the impulse that had caused her to 
 spare the girl, a diminution of hatred had nothing to do 
 with it. 
 
 "Thar '11 evil come to somebody," she said, as she 
 struck across the mountain top. 
 
 " There's a curse on the valley," asserted Naomi, as 
 she told the story of Duke's death to Dalbert that even- 
 ing. He made her no reply. The thoughts of both 
 brother and sister had gone from the loss of the horse 
 to an earlier and greater loss. Dalbert was wondering, 
 as he had often wondered before, how long Naomi would 
 be content to let the past rest in its uncertainty. For 
 himself, he had already made some inquiries about the 
 man Kennedy Poteet with conflicting results. 
 
 "Thar warn't no rarl harm in Kennedy, outside a 
 pretty stiffish temper," declared one of the residents of 
 Big Creek Gap, voicing the sentiment of many. " Thar 
 was a powerful unpleasant thing happened in that big 
 house o' hisn onct, and folks hain't never forgot hit. 
 Hit was that led to talk, and to say in' more 'n anybody 
 could prue-uve. 
 
 " When was hit ? Hit was when Ab was a little 
 bitty feller. Ab was the only child Kennedy Poteet 
 had, and he hain't never been the same since. They did 
 say he was thar in the room when old Kennedy and a 
 feller that was stoppin' at his house had some words 
 abaout money, and Kennedy sorter got his temper het 
 up, and thar was bloodshed. Hit was told how that 
 Ab's little bitty hands was red with blood, a-pullin' his 
 daddy away. We-uns never knowed the truth of hit. 
 That thar traveller was dead, that was tol'rable sure ; 
 and thar warn't nobody never come to look atter him. 
 Whether hit was much money or little they come to 
 words over, we-all didn't find aout. The man warn't in 
 no condition to tell, and thar was an end of hit. Ken- 
 nedy swore hit was done in self-defence, and thar warn't 
 
140 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 nobody to say hit warn't. We-all hadn't nothin' to say 
 about hit. Kennedy was a good neighbour enough. 
 Thar was folks that said that warn't the only traveller 
 old Ken fell foul of. Them as said that warn't his 
 friends, though. Hit's ill gittin' your tale out o' the 
 mouth of a man's enemies." 
 
 Big Creek Gap was divided on the subject of this 
 dead and gone rich man of the valley. There were 
 those who shook their heads mysteriously when his 
 name was mentioned. 
 
 " When a man's son cain't be brought to stay in his 
 house, thar's a screw loose somewhars," asserted this 
 section of the community. " Ab couldn't never be kep' 
 at home more 'n a month or two together. His father 
 had to send him to a sister of hisn, a powerful good 
 woman. Lor ! the boy useter turn white as a ha'nt if 
 he had to stop in that house alone. Ab was tol'rable 
 easy scart. Not but thar was reason enough for fear. 
 Spirits that's sent outer the body afore their time hain't 
 likely to rest well." 
 
 Dalbert knew as little what to think when his inqui- 
 ries had been made as before he made them. He 
 thought he knew what would be Naomi's conclusion, 
 and he waited rather nervously for her first attempts at 
 a solution of the mystery. 
 
 The girl had said she would wait and see. She was 
 waiting. She had long since learned that the big house 
 in the hollow had been the home of Kennedy Poteet. 
 That house no longer appealed to her with respectable 
 pride. She thought of it as the scene of old Kennedy's 
 crimes, and the house and its former owner became as 
 one in her estimation. She had a vague feeling that the 
 story of Kennedy Poteet's life was shut away within 
 those solid log walls, together with a conviction that 
 those same walls had hidden the tragedy of a life that 
 was dear to her. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 141 
 
 Perhaps it was the restlessness of grief at Duke's 
 loss, or a sense of mysterious evil lurking in this valley, 
 that on the following day caused Naomi to walk along 
 the valley road, and stop beneath the shadow of the big 
 house. Standing in the place where Abner had stood 
 on the night of the preaching, she looked up at the 
 windows upon which his gaze had been fixed. Was it 
 in that long, shallow balcony above the piazza that her 
 father had sat after he had penned his last letter, sat 
 and thought of his boy and girl upon the hillside farm, 
 until the shadows crept across the valley, and he turned 
 back into one of those rooms with the small window- 
 panes to meet his death ? 
 
 The girl grew hot and cold at the mere suggestion. 
 The quick, irregular beating of her heart was index of 
 the emotion stirring within. She did not for a moment 
 doubt that her father had sought shelter within that 
 house, since it had stood for village inn in the absence 
 of any regular place of entertainment for travellers. 
 The story told by the guide through the Gap had taken 
 a firm hold upon her imagination. She could not help 
 associating it with her father's disappearance. Now, as 
 she stood by the old dwelling, imagination took up the 
 story ; and she lived over again the events of that night 
 as she pictured them, the cowardly attack, the short, 
 desperate fight for life, the cruel moment when resist- 
 ance ceased, and the silence of death. Her face had 
 grown white as the clouds that hung high in the sum- 
 mer sky, but her eyes shone like burning coals as she 
 kept them fixed upon the windows above. 
 
 "If he did that, justice shall fall yet, though he 
 did cheat it by slinking out of the world like a coward ! " 
 
 The low-spoken words pulsated through the hot air, 
 and to the girl's excited fancy seemed to go on and out 
 till they struck against the solid, resisting walls. They 
 were the outward expression of the strong will that had 
 
142 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 set itself to bring vengeance to that house and to all 
 whom it represented. The words were of the nature of 
 a vow. 
 
 " Plumb foolish to keep hit shet up, hain't hit ? " 
 
 The girl started violently. It was a wrench to come 
 back to the present. The old face that was turned up 
 to hers belonged to the past as fully as did the old 
 house. For the moment it seemed to Naomi that it 
 had stepped out from those other days at the call of her 
 own fancy. 
 
 " Lor me ! you du look scart. Didn't you hear me 
 come ? " 
 
 " No," said Naomi, in a voice altogether unlike itself. 
 
 Even yet she could not quite bring herself back to the 
 present. 
 
 "Who lived there?" she asked after a moment's si- 
 lence, anxious to say something. The old woman was 
 staring at her curiously. 
 
 " Lor ! don't you know ? " was the answer. " That's 
 old Kennedy Poteet's house. He's been dead this nine 
 years, and buried. And since the day they carried him 
 outer that house, thar hain't nobody never lived in hit." 
 
 " Who should live in it ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 " Who ? Why, Ab, of course. My lor ! you hev gone 
 white! You lueke as if you'd been sick and jist got a 
 backset. Better come in bye, and rest a bit." 
 
 " Do you live near here ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 " Lor, yes ! hit hain't a great ways." 
 
 "Then I will rest, I think," said Naomi. 
 
 " You better," replied the woman. " You're the sis- 
 ter of the new superintendent at the mill, hain't ye ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the girl. " You ought to have been in 
 to see me before this." 
 
 " Lor ! that's true," was the answer. " But I hain't 
 one to go round a smart sight. You hain't learned yit 
 you're too young to learn hit that legs grow old a 
 
VISITING THE SIN 143 
 
 sight quicker 'n heads and tongues. Thar hain't much 
 that's happened in my time that I cain't remember, and 
 tell, too ; but, when hit comes to runnin' round, my legs 
 soon lets me know I hain't as young as I was." 
 
 She hobbled along by the girl's side, looking curiously 
 at her companion the while. 
 
 " Here we are," she exclaimed, as, the " branch " be- 
 ing crossed, they came to a cabin by the roadside. 
 " Come in, and set down." 
 
 From the threshold a part of the big house could be 
 seen, half shut in by the hills and its own encircling 
 trees. 
 
 " Did you know Kennedy Poteet ? " asked Naomi, 
 seating herself where she could see the building about 
 which her thoughts were yet centred. 
 
 "Know him? Lor me! how could I he'p knowin' 
 him ? " ejaculated the woman. " Hain't I lived less 'n 
 half a mile from his house ever since I was married ? 
 Know Kennedy Poteet ! Oh, lor ! " 
 
 The girl looked at her for a moment with the colour 
 coming slowly back to her cheeks. Then she rose sud- 
 denly and stood before her. 
 
 "Did you ever see anybody go into that house that 
 looked like me ? " she asked, and stood still beneath the 
 gaze of the old curious eyes. 
 
 The woman looked at her, hesitated, pulled out her 
 glasses, and deliberately fitted them on her nose. 
 Naomi stood before her, motionless. 
 
 Old eyes are slow, and those particular eyes meant to 
 be sure. They took their time. The girl did not stir. 
 
 "Yes, I hev" 
 
 The words came out like a shot from a gun, and the 
 woman removed her spectacles. The next moment she 
 put them on again. 
 
 "You can set down," she said triumphantly. "I've 
 recollected him. Thar don't nobody beat me at recol- 
 
144 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 lectin.' They useter couldn't ; and they cain't now, if I 
 am old, and weak on the legs." 
 
 She nodded her head wisely, and stared at the girl. 
 
 "You favour him consid'rable, but you hain't jist like 
 him," she said after an appreciable silence. " Hit's 
 more pertic'ler abaout the eyes." 
 
 " When did you see him ? " 
 
 Naomi's voice was carefully restrained. 
 
 " Hit was, lor me ! let's see, hit must 'a been 
 abaout fourteen year ago. He come through here with 
 a drove o' mules." 
 
 Naomi nodded. 
 
 " Was he your pappy ? " 
 
 Again there was a nod of assent. 
 
 The old woman wagged her head complacently. 
 
 " I hain't surprised," she said. " You du favour him 
 consid'rable. I hain't one to forgit faces. Thar was a 
 sight o' people come through this away abaout that same 
 time. Some of 'em drove mules, and some hogs, goin' 
 to Georgy. Thar was a powerful many I never tuk no 
 account on ; but ki-im, lor ! thar was no passin' him 
 over, he was that powerful tall and handsome. I declar 
 hit was a sight to lue-uke at hi-im." 
 
 Did he stay at that house ? " asked the girl, her 
 voice breaking a little. 
 
 " Kennedy Poteet's ? Lor, yes ! They all did. Hit 
 was a better house than ary o' we-uns had. Thar was 
 a sight o' ruemes in hit." 
 
 " Do you know how long he stopped ? " 
 
 The question was eager 
 
 " I cain't jist say that," responded the old woman, re- 
 flectively. "I never knowed for certain. I seed him 
 more 'n onct, owin' to his stayin' here longer 'n one 
 night on account of a sick mule. They useter go on the 
 next day, the most part on 'em ; but he was forced to 
 stay. He seemed a powerful kind man to his animals." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 145 
 
 "He was kind to everything." 
 
 The voice faltered at the last word. The old woman 
 looked at the speaker sharply. 
 
 " Lor ! he hain't dead, is he ? " she asked. 
 
 Naomi nodded. It would not have been quite easy to 
 speak. 
 
 " Oh, my lor ! Well, I hain't surprised. I useter say 
 I was sure somethin' had happened to him." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 The question came sharply. 
 
 "We-el," replied the woman, "hit was along o' my 
 seein' his live spirit." 
 
 "His spirit!" 
 
 "Yes, his live spirit," repeated the old woman. 
 "Thar's some believes in dead spirits, ha'nts they 
 calls 'em. Lor ! hit hain't dead spirits that disturbs me. 
 I reckon them that's dead has got a right smart better 
 to du than to be comin' back that away. Hit's the live 
 spirits that scare me, the spirit that comes aout of a 
 man when he's a-settin' thar by your side or layin' 
 sleepin' on the bed. And I see that man's live spirit 
 as clar as ever I see a live spirit in my life. I warn't 
 afraid. I knowed thar warn't no harm meant to me 
 that time, for hit was a-comin' right on towards me. If 
 hit had been goin' away, I should 'a been scart. But 
 hit did give me a kind of a turn, for I'd seed the man 
 a-settin' in one of them downstars rooms not ten minutes 
 afore." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " gasped Naomi. " Are you certain 
 you remembered his looks ? " 
 
 " Oh, lor ! mercy me ! Remember him ! I should 
 jist think I did. Why, gal, I couldn't 'a forgot him if 
 I'd a mind. He was a-settin' at that thar winder on 
 the further side o' the door, nearest to the jog thar ; and 
 his face showed powerful plain through the glass. His 
 eyes had a sorrowful look in 'em, as if he was a-thinkin' 
 o' somebody dead and gone." 
 
146 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " I know," whispered Naomi ; and there were tears in 
 her eyes. 
 
 "He was so powerful handsome that I looked rarl 
 hard," continued the old woman; "and he nodded, and 
 said, t Howdy.' I heared him, part with my ears and 
 part by seem' how his lips moved. Remember him ! 
 Lor ! " 
 
 She stopped with an expressive snort, and then re- 
 sumed. 
 
 " Mercy ! hit was a si-ight. I hadn't more 'n jist got 
 home when I seed his live spirit a-comin' along the road 
 from the Gap. Thar hit was as plain as daylight, and 
 him a-settin' in the house not many minutes afore. I 
 looked at hit ; and then I jist squeezed my nose agin the 
 glass, and who should I see but the very man a-puttin' 
 his head outer that upstars winder you can see thar. 
 He'd opened the winder, and stuck his head aout. And 
 thar was his spirit a-comin' straight on down the road. 
 Lor me ! hit made me all of a cold sweat ! " 
 
 She looked triumphantly at her listener. The colour 
 had again left the girl's face. The narration was so 
 circumstantial that she had forgotten her present sur- 
 roundings, and was looking through those sharp old 
 eyes, not at the things of to-day, but at those of the 
 past. She saw her father's face again, with the far- 
 away, wistful look upon it that had always turned her 
 thoughts to the young mother she could barely remem- 
 ber. Moreover, the old woman's certainty of the reality 
 of the happenings of her weird story was not without 
 its effect upon her. She was a Kentucky mountain 
 girl, born in an atmosphere of strange beliefs and unex- 
 plainable stories. The supernatural seemed, in those 
 mountain regions, far removed from the unnatural. 
 
 The narrator interpreted the almost breathless silence 
 to her own satisfaction, and continued : 
 
 "Hit wouldn't 'a been a minute afore hit would 'a 
 
VISITING THE SIN 147 
 
 turned right in at that door. Lor, gal ! I tell ye I run 
 powerful smart to shet hit afore hit was too late. And, 
 as I come from shettin' the door, I seed hit go clar past 
 that winder thar, and round the corner o' the house. 
 Mercy sakes ! I thought hit was a-goin' to try the back 
 door, and I recollected I'd left hit a leetle open. My 
 lor ! hit didn't take me ary time to git from the front to 
 the back of this house. I run tol'rable quick, I tell ye ; 
 and when I come back, it was nowhar to be seen. Hit 
 was as clean gone as if the ground had opened and 
 swallered hit up, and I never seed hit no more." 
 
 " And my father ? " asked Naomi, her breath coming 
 quickly. 
 
 " I hain't never been sure what become o' him atter," 
 said the old woman, regretfully. "Thar was another 
 drove o' mules passed through the same day I seed his 
 live spirit, and the next thar was soldiers here ; and I 
 never heared what become o' hi-im. Thar was talk that 
 he done sold all his mules to the other feller. I hain't 
 sure. They'd 'a fetched a powerful lot o' money if he 
 did, for thar was a sight o' mules in his drove. I hain't 
 sayin' he didn't ; but if so be that he did, hit was a right 
 smart o' money he must 'a tuk home." 
 
 " He never came home," said Naomi, in a voice that 
 had grown hard and strained. 
 
 " Didn't ? Well, I declar ! " 
 
 The girl rose slowly, and stood straight and stiff be- 
 fore her companion. 
 
 "This Kennedy Poteet?" she said. "Would you 
 have trusted him with the money those mules must have 
 brought ? " 
 
 The woman looked at her with curious, wondering 
 eyes. 
 
 " My lor ! I wouldn't 'a trusted Kennedy Poteet with 
 the head of an old rusty nail, if so be he had ary use 
 for hit, he was that graspin'." 
 
148 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 She was staring at the girl as she spoke. 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 The word came in a short, hard gasp. 
 
 "And my father was in his house," continued the 
 girl. " There was Kennedy Poteet, and all the money 
 for those mules, and only my father's life between that 
 money and the man who wanted it. My father was 
 never heard of again. Tell me what became of him." 
 
 She stood towering above the old woman, who sat 
 with her elbows on her knees, peering up into that 
 white, working face. 
 
 "Tell you ! I cain't, and nobody cain't. O lor ! " 
 
 "7 can," said the girl, still in the same hard voice. 
 "Kennedy Poteet murdered him." 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! " said the old woman. " I thought 
 somethin' had happened to him atter I seed his live 
 spirit. Kennedy was powerful graspin'. I hain't a- 
 sayin' he done tha-at, but hit's tol'rable cur'ous. I hain't 
 a-sayin' he done hit." 
 
 " I am," was the answer, in clear, decisive tones. 
 " My father was seen in his house before he sold his 
 mules. He was never seen again." 
 
 " Lor, no ! Hit's rarl quar ! " 
 
 "It's clear enough to me," said the girl, her eyes 
 shining from out the whiteness of her face. "Kennedy 
 Poteet's dead, more's the pity ! " 
 
 " Lor me ! " said the woman, still peering into the face 
 above her. 
 
 "This Abner of whom you spoke, where is he?" 
 demanded Naomi, after a minute's silence. 
 
 " Lor ! he hain't fur off. But Ab don't know nothin' 
 abaout hit. He" 
 
 "Isn't he Kennedy Poteet's son?" interrupted 
 Naomi. 
 
 "Lor, yes! He lives in the log house beyond his 
 father's place, a little bitty house. Quar, hain't hit, 
 
VISITING THE SIN 149 
 
 that he wouldn't never live in old Ken's house, nor yit 
 let ary other person ? " 
 
 Naomi did not answer. She went to the door, and 
 passed out. On the threshold she turned. 
 
 "He shall come into the inheritance of his father," 
 she said. 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! hit's a si-ight," muttered the old 
 woman, as the girl turned away. 
 
 Naomi had set her face again towards the big house. 
 Was she going to look in at the window where her 
 father had sat ? Hardly ; for her feet passed the gate 
 in the hollow, and went on along the valley road. The 
 girl was walking with a settled purpose. To her the 
 mystery of her father's disappearance was a mystery no 
 longer. The vague past had taken definite shape. 
 
 The little log cabin beyond the turn in the road was 
 tenantless when she reached its door. Only the embers 
 on the hearth told of life. She knocked, and got no 
 answer. Then she pushed open the door, and went in. 
 
 A strange light was in the eyes that looked round 
 that room. The bare floor and the pots and pans stared 
 back at the intruder. Was this the home of the inher- 
 itor of stolen wealth ? The little tin mill by the fire 
 had an ear of corn yet sticking out of it, bearing wit- 
 ness to the fact that the owner of the cabin had but 
 lately rubbed his corn on its diamond-holed under-sur- 
 face, laboriously grating it into meal for his dinner. No 
 feature of that interior suggested the presence of the 
 son of a wealthy man. The cottage showed poverty in 
 every detail. 
 
 "He has inherited his father's greed already," said 
 the girl, in the same hard voice. " The curse is to 
 come." 
 
 She sat down to wait. The minutes passed, but she 
 showed no impatience. It was nearing the time when 
 Dalbert would return from the mill. To-day it troubled 
 Naomi little that supper would be unprepared. 
 
ISO VISITING THE SIN 
 
 It was past six when Abner Poteet turned towards 
 the little cabin. He was in no hurry to go in. Since 
 the night of the preaching the bare room had lost its 
 charm. Visions of a dark-eyed, dark-haired maiden 
 coming there as mistress had faded. They had glorified 
 that bare interior for many a day they would come 
 there no more, except as memories of what might have 
 been. The house was home to Abner still, but a home 
 swept of its one bit of romance. 
 
 He came in with slow, heavy step, and eyes that did 
 not lift. And then he stood still. In a moment the 
 room had become luminous. There by the hearth sat 
 
 " Abner Poteet, there is a door out of this world for 
 the murderer ; but the murder remains ! " 
 
 Startled eyes were raised, and over the face where a 
 wistful light had crept passed the evidence of a great 
 horror. 
 
 " I know hit," he said, looking straight at the speaker. 
 
 "You may rejoice in the gain," she continued; "but 
 the curse will not be cheated. It will fall on the son of 
 the murderer, and rest there till it crushes him to the 
 earth." 
 
 Her eyes, that could be soft and liquid on occasion, 
 were ablaze with wrath. She drew herself up to her 
 full height, and stood looking at him, the impersonation 
 of vengeance. Abner' s gaze was held fascinated. 
 
 " I know hit," he said again in low, sad tones. "The 
 sins of the fathers visited on the children." 
 
 "Ay, to the third and fourth generation," she said. 
 " You may brave it aout as you will, Abner Poteet ; but 
 the curse will stick." 
 
 " Not to the third and fourth generation," he said in 
 tones lower yet. " Thar '11 be nary more generations to 
 bear hit." 
 
 " While there is a man of your race left, it will not 
 stop it shall not stop," she said, in her hot anger fail- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 151 
 
 ing to observe the stricken expression on the face before 
 her. "Yoti'll not escape it if he did." 
 
 "No, I shain't escape hit," he said. "I hain't ex- 
 pectin' to escape hit. The visitin' will come." 
 
 " Yes, it will come," she said, and swept past him into 
 the daylight. 
 
 And in the blindness of her anger she mistook the 
 sorrow upon the man's face for sullen defiance, and went 
 away with the anger yet blazing. 
 
 And Abner stood in the bare room, with head bowed. 
 
 "The visitin's comin'," he said after a long, horror- 
 filled silence. "The sins o' the fathers! Thar hain't 
 no countin' how many thar is of 'em." 
 
 When darkness fell upon the cabin, he was standing 
 there still. 
 
152 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE old house in the hollow was far out beyond 
 one end of the village of Big Creek Gap ; and the 
 home that Naomi had prepared for herself lay at 
 the other extremity, only slightly removed from the 
 mountain pass itself. Nearly two miles of road were 
 between, but distance was annihilated to-night. As the 
 girl passed from Abner Poteet's gate, she knew nothing 
 of time or space. Heart and brain were full of the 
 past. The pity of it filled her with horror as it had 
 never done before. 
 
 "He had years of life in him," she said ; and there 
 was a sob in her voice. 
 
 Every feeling within her rose up in indignation against 
 the big house and its owner. To her that long, solid 
 building seemed the impersonation of the violent wick- 
 edness that had robbed her father of his life, blotted out 
 a noble, useful manhood, and left in its place a great, 
 silent, ghostly thing that stood for nothing but greed 
 and the triumph of evil over good. 
 
 "And he was never punished," she said, with the bit- 
 ter feeling that the deed was the more cruel for the 
 escape of the perpetrator. 
 
 Human nature is weak. The smart of a sore heart is 
 a little eased by the knowledge that the hand that dealt 
 the blow is itself a partaker of the pain. And if no such 
 weakness existed, there is yet an innate sense of justice, 
 a rebellion against the triumph of wrong, that calls for 
 the punishment of the evil-doer. Justice utters her 
 protest against letting the violent man carry out his 
 evil designs with a high hand ; and if vengeance adds 
 
VISITING THE SIN 153 
 
 to the volume of the outcry, the fact is not altogether 
 strange. 
 
 To Naomi there was something unnatural, something 
 that savoured of treachery towards her father, in letting 
 the crime lie buried, unacknowledged and unpunished. 
 The overflowing life of which he had been defrauded 
 could not be wrested from the hand of the murderer and 
 given back to its owner, but justice could at last be 
 allowed to speak. 
 
 "Why should the memory of Kennedy Poteet be 
 spared, and his son enjoy unhindered the fruits of his 
 blackest crimes ? " she asked herself. " His name can 
 at least be dragged through the mire of his own mak- 
 
 ing." 
 
 She had no longer the shadow of a doubt that she 
 had traced her father's life to its last step. There only 
 remained the finding of definite proofs of the guilt of 
 the innkeeper. This might or might not be a difficult 
 matter. It was in any case the next point to be 
 aimed at. 
 
 And when that should be accomplished? Naomi 
 asked herself the question, and left it unanswered. 
 Only into her face there came a look that few, perhaps, 
 had seen there before. It was as if every feature hard- 
 ened into stone, and the whole became an image of 
 wrath. Forgiveness is a virtue not easy of cultivation 
 by the fearless, self-reliant, passionate nature ; and 
 there are times when the need of it is not quite self- 
 evident. 
 
 Naomi did not know whether her feet lagged or has- 
 tened over the stretch of dusty road that presently 
 brought her to her own door and to a waiting figure 
 without it. In truth she had come quickly. 
 
 " Has Big Creek Gap transgressed beyond forgiveness 
 that you leave it in blackest night by turning your face 
 away from it ? " asked the mill owner. " I felt the chill 
 
I 5 4 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 before ever I reached the house. Dalbert was more 
 prosaic. He went to work to rekindle the fire, which 
 had died out." 
 
 " On the principle that ary light is better than none," 
 responded Naomi, looking at the mill owner with eyes 
 that were uncomprehending. 
 
 "The fires are not all dead," said the young man 
 significantly, returning the gaze. 
 
 The girl passed him, and went into the house. 
 
 " Was anything amiss ? " 
 
 Dalbert snapped a dry bough across his knee, and 
 looked up at his sister. 
 
 "I've been to Kennedy Poteet's house," she said. 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 Answer and exclamation were full of meaning. 
 
 "He did it," continued the girl, in a low, tense tone. 
 "We have come to the end of our search. I was 
 right" 
 
 "That's tolerable certain. You always are. I'll 
 swear to that." 
 
 The mill owner had followed Naomi into the kitchen. 
 He had failed to catch the suppressed excitement in the 
 low-spoken words. He had only heard the last of them. 
 
 "Of course I am," replied the girl, struggling to 
 throw off her oppression and speak lightly, " even when 
 I let the fire aout at supper-time." 
 
 "Even then," answered the young man, drawing 
 nearer. " Miss Mozingo, Dal asked me to share that 
 supper. It was a real charity." 
 
 " Or will be when you get it," retorted Naomi. 
 
 "I can wait," he said complacently. "And I don't 
 care how long now." 
 
 He did not add that Dalbert had had little choice 
 about the asking. 
 
 Neither the brother nor sister had afterwards any 
 clear recollection of the preparing of that supper. It is 
 
VISITING THE SIN 155 
 
 safe to say that, if the mill owner had not been there, 
 it would never have been prepared. Visions of the past 
 were crowding in Naomi's brain. Anger and pity and 
 sorrow struggled together, but the anger was ever up- 
 permost. For the first time since she came to Big 
 Creek Gap she was impatient of Will Hollingsworth's 
 presence. She wanted to talk to her brother, to be left 
 to decide upon the next step. She was in a hurry to 
 take that step. She wondered how she could have 
 waited so long before making inquiries. 
 
 She was conscious that Dalbert's eyes were following 
 her, but she refused to meet them. The young man 
 watched her anxiously. He felt his own heart beating 
 irregularly. In spite of the strong curb his sister had 
 put upon her excitement he heard it in every tone of 
 her voice. What had she found in the old house to put 
 that dangerous light in her eyes ? 
 
 Dalbert's was not the only gaze that followed the girl 
 closely. The mill owner watched her with curiosity 
 and satisfaction. 
 
 " Do you know I'm powerful jealous of Dal," he said. 
 " He isn't plumb forced to say ' Miss Mozingo ' every 
 time he speaks. I want his privileges." 
 
 Naomi stopped in her walk across the room, and 
 looked at him coolly. 
 
 " There is nothing to hinder you from enjoying them 
 with your own sisters," she said. 
 
 " You are robbing the privilege of its attraction," he 
 laughed. " I'm not powerful tempted in that direction. 
 It's somebody else's sister who is the temptation." 
 
 "Temptations were made to be resisted," she said. 
 
 "Are you plumb sure ? " he asked. " It takes a sight 
 of self-control to resist some of them." 
 
 " Self-control is a tolerable useful virtue," she replied 
 gravely. " I believe you need exercise one form of it 
 no longer. Supper is ready at last." 
 
156 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 It was when the meal was fairly in progress that the 
 mill owner turned to his hostess. 
 
 " Miss Mozingo," he said, " did you contemplate leav- 
 ing Big Creek to its fate ? My first glimpse of you was 
 from the hill yonder. You were coming along the road 
 with haste suggestive of repentance." 
 
 " I was later than I knew. I had been as far as the 
 big house in the hollow," said Naomi, in a tone that was 
 drier than usual. 
 
 " What ? The old inn ? And did that ghostly place 
 prove so plumb attractive that you forgot everything 
 else?" 
 
 " Attractive ? " she said, lifting towards him eyes that 
 shone with a peculiar light. "Is there ary attraction in 
 the house of a murderer ? " 
 
 He looked at her curiously. 
 
 " Old Kennedy Poteet hadn't ary too good a charac- 
 ter, so they say," he responded meditatively. 
 
 "He was a murderer who cheated justice by dying 
 before a rope could be got round his neck ! " 
 
 The words came with slow, measured force, that 
 thrilled through Dalbert's brain and set his nerves vi- 
 brating. The mill owner was differently affected. 
 
 "Did he? That was powerful mean of him," he 
 said. 
 
 His laughing eyes were seeking those of the girl. 
 When they met them, the laughter faded out. 
 
 "He sneaked aout of this world unpunished because 
 there was not a man in Big Creek Gap who had courage 
 enough to unearth his villainy," continued Naomi. 
 
 The young man leaned over suddenly, and touched her 
 hand. It was shaking. 
 
 "His punishment or escape doesn't make a sight 
 of difference to u-us," he said. "The old sinner is 
 gone." 
 
 " Doesn't it ? It would make a difference to me to 
 
VISITING THE SIN 157 
 
 know that he would hang for his crimes. If he had 
 killed your father, you would think differently." 
 
 The low-spoken words acted like a shock of electricity. 
 
 Naomi ! " 
 
 She did not notice that the same word fell from both 
 lips. Dalbert did. 
 
 " It is true," she said passionately. " He killed him." 
 
 "Are you sure ?" asked Dalbert, in a low voice. 
 
 He was still reluctant to believe that his father had 
 met his death through foul play. Naomi's words fell 
 on his heart like a blow. He could not lose the horror 
 in indignation against the perpetrator of the outrage. 
 Vengeance was in his case no easer of pain. 
 
 " Sure ? " she said impatiently. " What more do you 
 want? He came to this place he was seen in that 
 house. He sold his mules there, and was never seen 
 again." 
 
 The hand that had chosen to remain in contact with 
 Naomi's gave sympathetic pressure. 
 
 " Who told you ? " asked Dalbert. 
 
 "An old woman who lives opposite," replied the girl. 
 " She saw him, and remembered him well. He stayed 
 longer than the rest of them because a mule was sick. 
 She heard that he parted with his mules to a man who 
 was travelling south. Up to that point all is plain. 
 After that when the money was in his possession, 
 when he and Kennedy Poteet were alone in that house 
 he disappeared from Big Creek Gap and from the 
 world." 
 
 The low, vibrating voice broke at the last words. 
 There was an answering pressure from the hand that 
 touched hers. 
 
 " But how do you know that he was killed ? " asked 
 Dalbert, hoarsely. 
 
 " Do live men vanish without cause ? Would he desert 
 his children and live ? " 
 
158 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 She turned scornful eyes upon him. He shook his 
 head. He did not want to believe, but conviction was 
 forcing itself upon him. 
 
 " She may be wrong," he said after a short, painful 
 silence. " Has she ary reason to suppose that he was 
 murdered ? " 
 
 The last word came reluctantly. 
 
 " She did not suppose it," replied the girl impatiently. 
 " She had not sense enough. Nobody supposed any- 
 thing. There was nobody to suppose if there had 
 been, Kennedy Poteet could not have carried out his 
 rascality. If there had been man or woman in Big Creek 
 Gap that had either sense or care, he would have been 
 alive to-day." 
 
 This time Naomi became conscious of the touch of 
 the mill owner's hand, and drew her own away. He 
 looked at her reproachfully. 
 
 " I wish I had been at Big Creek then," he said. 
 " But now ? What can I do to help you ? " 
 
 She did not notice the slight stress on the " I." Her 
 thoughts were going beyond the mill owner. 
 
 " The first thing is to prove it," she said. " / know 
 he did it, but it must be proved beyond a doubt. And 
 then " 
 
 " What then ? " asked the young man. " The old 
 rascal has made himself secure by taking himself off the 
 scene of action." 
 
 " He didn't take his name with him nor his family," 
 said the girl. 
 
 Will Hollingsworth caught the fierceness only half 
 suppressed in her tone. 
 
 " Family ? " he rejoined reflectively. " Why, the old 
 thief hasn't a family unless you count Ab." 
 
 "He has a son," she replied coldly. 
 
 " Yes, Ab. But nobody thinks of Ab as belonging 
 to the old man. He's a powerful harmless feller, is 
 Ab." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 159 
 
 " He's his father's son," she said. 
 
 " Yes, and a plumb bad job it is for him." 
 
 " And a plumb bad job it is likely to be ! " 
 
 Both men started at the passion in her words. Neither 
 quite understood how deeply she had been stirred by the 
 old woman's recital, and by the proximity of the house 
 where to her excited imagination the deed of cruelty 
 almost visibly lingered. It was Dalbert who answered 
 her words. 
 
 " I don't think you'll find that this Abner Poteet had 
 ary thing to do with it, even if what you think is true," 
 he said. " I've seen the man. He doesn't seem to me 
 to be one who has either committed or profited by a 
 crime." 
 
 "How could he help profiting by his father's ras- 
 cality ? " retorted Naomi. His father was a murderer 
 and a thief and he is his father's son. What right has 
 he to expect that men will not visit his father's sins on 
 his head ? " 
 
 " I reckon he don't expect anything," laughed the 
 mill owner. " Ab ain't the sort to have expectations in 
 ary one way." 
 
 " He knew better than to deny his father's guilt," 
 said the girl quietly. 
 
 " What ? You have seen him ? " 
 
 Something approaching consternation was in Dalbert's 
 voice. He was still indulging the hope that there was 
 a mistake, that the old woman's story could be refuted. 
 His sister's prompt measures looked to him rash. 
 
 " Yes. I have seen him," said Naomi, and there was 
 a challenge in the words. 
 
 They sat looking at each other ; that is to say, Dal- 
 bert and the mill owner were looking at Naomi, and her 
 eyes met theirs, though it is doubtful whether they 
 brought her any clear impression from without. As for 
 the mill owner, he saw nothing but the girl whose eyes 
 
160 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 flashed and kindled and grew cold only to light up again 
 with indignant passion. He had never seen her face 
 more beautiful than now, with the passion and the sor- 
 row disturbing its calm. It had hitherto been too well 
 under control, too impregnable to satisfy him. To-night 
 he saw it in a new light. 
 
 "Well?" said the girl at last; and the word was a 
 challenge. 
 
 " We have got to prove that he did it," said Dalbert, 
 in quick answer to that questioning word. 
 
 "Yes it may not be easy," she said. "But it 
 would be a sight harder to prove that he didn't." 
 
 "There's a powerful lot of truth in tha-at," broke in 
 the mill owner, with a short laugh. 
 
 His eyes were searching Naomi's. He waited until 
 his gaze drew hers to meet it. Then he echoed her 
 word. 
 
 " Well ? " he said questioningly. 
 
 " Are his children to leave his death unavenged ? " 
 she asked, and there was a break in the rich, low voice. 
 "Is nary thing to be done to bring the punishment 
 where it ought to fall ? " 
 
 " Where is that ? " demanded the young man. 
 
 " On the kin of the murderer, on those who profited 
 by his crimes," she said hotly. 
 
 " Whatever Naomi Mozingo says, 7 will do," he 
 answered. 
 
 She looked at him for a moment in silence. " It's 
 Dai's work," she said coldly. " It's his boy and girl 
 who should avenge him, not strangers." 
 
 "Am I a stranger ? " he asked reproachfully. " There 
 is plenty for Dal to do. But you want an outside 
 helper." 
 
 She did not answer. His eyes were looking into hers.. 
 Her own did not change from their passionate glow, 
 though they met the others squarely. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 161 
 
 " Is it a compact ? " he asked after another silence. 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " That you will give me the privilege of being your 
 agent, and that I will carry aout your behests, let them 
 be what they will." 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Will ! " broke in Dalbert impatiently. 
 "My sister is upset by what she has heard. She 
 doesn't know what she does want. This is not a thing 
 to be entered on hastily." 
 
 " Then I will wait till she finds aout," said the mill 
 owner, and this time he did not laugh. 
 
 Dalbert rose hastily. 
 
 " Naomi is right," he said. " This work is for me, if 
 for anybody. And, so far as finding aout the truth of 
 the old woman's tale is concerned, it has got to be done. 
 For the rest, there is time enough to decide when we 
 have proof." 
 
 Will Hol?rigsworth ignored the words. He was still 
 looking at Naomi. 
 
 "Is it a compact ? " he asked again. 
 
 She hesitated, and then stretched out her hand. 
 
 " If you will," she said. 
 
 He held the hand for a minute, and stood looking at 
 the girl. 
 
 "Did you ever hear of the bone cave?" he asked 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Yes," she said, drawing her hand away. " What do 
 you know about it ? " 
 
 " It figures in stories about Kennedy Poteet," he re- 
 plied. " Ary search into the doings of that dead and 
 gone sinner ought, plumb sure, to be begun there." 
 
 " Have you been in it ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " I had no interest in the doings of old Ken until 
 now," he said. " Shall I take you down there ? I'll be 
 accountable for the spirits that keep the place select." 
 
162 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " What shall I find there ? " she asked, looking into 
 his face. 
 
 " Bones so they say," he replied. 
 
 She hesitated barely a moment. 
 
 " Is it too late to go to-night ? " she asked. 
 
 "It's tolerable late considering the character of the 
 place," he said, and there was only a glimmer of a smile 
 about his lips. 
 
 "Then I will go in the morning, at daybreak," said 
 Naomi. "And I will go alone," she added, with a glance 
 that was not without defiance. 
 
 " Better not," he said gently. " If ary thing should 
 be found, you will need a witness. And it will be toler- 
 able lonesome down there. You must not go alone." 
 
 " My sister will not be alone," said Dalbert curtly. 
 
 "The more, the better, in that place," replied the mill 
 owner. " Put it off till eight o'clock. The grass will 
 be wet so early, and whatever is there will 'vait." 
 
 His last words were addressed to Naomi. 
 
 " Where is the bone cave ? " she asked. 
 
 " Over from the mill a smart piece, within easy 
 reach from the old reprobate's house." 
 
 "We will go in the morning," said Dalbert. "I 
 don't believe we shall find anything to pay us for our 
 trouble. I don't want to believe it. It makes the loss 
 ten times worse to think it came so." 
 
 There was possibly hardly a resident of Big Creek 
 Gap who would have been willing to enter the " bone 
 cave" after nightfall, there were not many who would 
 have been willing to enter it at all. The place had an 
 unpleasant reputation. A farmer who had lost a sheep 
 down the uncovered hole that formed one of its outlets 
 had told of bones, ghastly and white, strewing the floor 
 in the low, almost inaccessible passage in which the 
 cave terminated. 
 
 "And they warn't the bones of no four-footed ani- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 163 
 
 mal," he asserted, when he reappeared at the surface of 
 the earth with a face that rivalled in whiteness the bones 
 reputed to be mouldering in the secret recesses of that 
 i underground place. 
 
 One or two venturesome spirits had since entered the 
 cave, and brought out bones, human bones, they 
 averred ; but these were few in number, and not easily 
 recognizable. Nobody had possessed courage to crawl 
 to the end of the low, damp tunnel that to all appearance 
 formed the extremity of the cave. Tradition said that 
 Kennedy Poteet had more definite knowledge of the 
 contents of that cavern than had any other human be- 
 ing, but no one was sure that back of tradition there lay 
 any certainty on which to ground the belief that had 
 nevertheless become somewhat general in Big Creek 
 Gap. 
 
 It was not fear that made Naomi's hand a little less 
 steady than usual when, a strip of woodland above the 
 mill having been crossed, she stood in the early morning 
 looking into the "bone cave." The thought of the dis- 
 covery that might be before her was sufficient to account 
 for the under-current of excitement. The cave itself 
 boasted of nothing imposing in the way of entrance. 
 A well-like hole, dipping straight down into the earth, 
 enabled her to see into the depths of this cavern with 
 an ill name. Rough, precipitous sides promised little 
 help in descending, nevertheless, Dalbert was about to 
 lower himself into the darkness when the mill owner's 
 voice stopped him. 
 
 " Hold on ! " he said. " That ain't the way old Ken 
 got in, if he ever did creep into this uncanny place. 
 That's only a peep-hole for the free exhibition of the 
 wonders underneath. You stand plumb still, Miss Mo- 
 zingo. I'll get in, and be showman." 
 
 A yard or two beyond, half hidden by bushes, he came 
 upon the real entrance to the cave, a narrow, steeply 
 
1 64 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 sloping opening, down which a man could slip more 
 easily than he could walk. 
 
 " Old Ken must have held his head a powerful sight 
 lower than usual when he went in he-ere," said the mill 
 owner, as lantern and person disappeared between the 
 earth above and the rock below. " They say he knew 
 how to keep it up high enough at other times." 
 
 A few seconds later he stood beneath the vertical 
 hole, swinging his lantern around and looking up at 
 Naomi. 
 
 "It don't look powerful ghostly," he said. "It's 
 nothing but a little bit of a cave, that runs off into a 
 mere burrow in the ground." 
 
 He walked on, the glimmer from his lantern growing 
 fainter as he went further from the opening. 
 
 "Are you going down?" asked Dalbert. "There's 
 no need. You might just as well stay here. I'll search 
 the place." 
 
 " I'm going myself," said Naomi ; and without a word 
 Dalbert preceded her into the opening, crouching low 
 and turning to help her. 
 
 " Go on," she said with a short laugh. " I'm not 
 afraid of that slide." 
 
 She was at the bottom almost before he had lifted 
 himself up. 
 
 " I'm afraid the ghosts have been back, and gathered 
 up all their belongings, Miss Mozingo. There isn't so 
 much as a bone left to contend for." 
 
 The mill owner's lantern was returning, accompa- 
 nied by the mill owner. Even as he spoke, however, 
 his foot loosened a white object on which the rays of 
 light fell full. 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! " he said, stooping to pick it up. 
 " One of 'em will be short in some part of his person. 
 He's left one of his bones behind him." 
 
 He held the white object in his hand, and looked 
 
VISITING THE SIN 165 
 
 laughingly up at Naomi. After that look the laugh died 
 on his lips. 
 
 " Miss Mozingo," he said, " there is nothing to prove 
 that that bone was not some cherished part of a sheep's 
 anatomy. I don't believe you will find anything in here 
 to disturb you or to help you." 
 
 All the laughter had gone from his voice. It was 
 grave and sympathetic. 
 
 " Perhaps not," she said. " But we will go in further, 
 and see." 
 
 They made their way to a point beyond which loco- 
 motion was only possible in its most primitive form. 
 Dalbert, on hands and knees, was already pushing on. 
 
 " You cannot go further," said the mill owner to Na- 
 omi. " You had better stay here while Dal and I make 
 investigations." 
 
 His own investigations, however, had got no further 
 than into the expression of a girl's face, when a pair of 
 heels came into sight. 
 
 " Here's Dal beating a retreat," he said. "The spir- 
 its of the cave have proved inhospitable." 
 
 Dalbert emerged, very much the worse in appearance 
 for his short journey. 
 
 "There's water in there deep pools, and a shallow 
 running stream," he said. "Looks as if it might be 
 the effect of the rain the other day, but it's in the way. 
 The roof gets lower as you go in. There's nothing to 
 be seen that is of any use to us." 
 
 " No bones ? " asked Will, with a quick laugh. 
 
 " Yes, there are bones, but only odd ones. Nothing 
 that could serve as proof either one way or another." 
 
 " Did you bring any ? " 
 
 For answer Dalbert set down his lantern, and care- 
 fully deposited upon the floor of the cave a double hand- 
 ful of spoils from its inmost recesses. Mud, rock, bones, 
 one of the latter looking uncommonly like a part of 
 
166 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 the finger of a human hand, a scrap of woollen cloth, 
 and a rusty nail made up the collection. 
 
 " I found them in a mud hole. There was nothing 
 else near," explained the young man. 
 
 They were all down on their knees, examining the 
 spoils, the suspicious-looking bone resting in the palm of 
 the mill owner's hand. 
 
 " Better carry 'em up, where we can wash 'em," he 
 said. "The spirits keep their belongings powerful 
 dirty. There's too much mud on 'em to distinguish 
 What is it, Miss Mozingo?" 
 
 The girl's lips were parted, and her eyes riveted on 
 an object which her fingers gripped tightly. It was 
 hardly yet free from the clinging mud from which she 
 had rescued it. Nothing but a bit of mud-covered rock 
 had been visible when she first took the lump into her 
 hand. Now the mass had resolved itself into its ele- 
 ments, the sight of one of which had sent th? blood 
 from the girl's face, and brought that awed look into 
 her eyes. 
 
 Look, Dal ! " 
 
 She held out the little circlet. 
 
 A thin band of gold, with one insignificant gem set 
 in it, it was not yet sufficiently free from its mud coat- 
 ing to show the beauty of stone or metal. But as Dal- 
 bert's glance fell upon it his face changed. Some of 
 the horror in Naomi's eyes was communicated to his. 
 He took the ring and rubbed it in his hands till it was 
 free from dirt. Then he handed it back to his sister. 
 
 " I'm going in again," he said, and his voice was hoarse. 
 
 " My father wore it. It belonged to my mother," said 
 Naomi, in answer to the inquiring look of the mill owner. 
 
 Dalbert had already disappeared. The face of the 
 mill owner was grave. 
 
 " Then there was truth in the tales they tell of Ken- 
 nedy Poteet," he said. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 167 
 
 She did not answer, and they stood listening to the 
 rattle of falling rock detached by Dalbert's contact with 
 the low roof. Listening thus, with thoughts centered 
 upon that passage, it was easy to mistake the direction 
 of a sound, as it had been easy to overlook such sound 
 in the last few minutes, when every thought was ab- 
 sorbed by the discovery that had been made. It would 
 not have occurred to either of the three that any inhab- 
 itant of Big Creek Gap was interested in the contents 
 of the " bone cave." Perhaps the keen eyes that peered 
 out from the darkness were more interested in the visi- 
 tors to the cave than in the cave itself. China Partins 
 could move cautiously when she chose, and she did 
 choose to-day. She had come very close without being 
 suspected. Those sharp eyes were near enough to see 
 the little gold circlet as it was held in the girl's fingers, 
 and her ears had not missed a word that had followed 
 the discovery. 
 
 There was complete silence now in the cave. It was 
 too dark in her hiding-place for the fact to be evident, 
 but the old woman's face had grown excited. Her 
 breath came quicker than usual. She drew further back 
 in the shadow of a rock, and waited. 
 
 " Here's Dal ! " said the mill owner, in a tone of relief. 
 The strain was becoming intense. 
 
 "There's nothing else there," announced the young 
 man, emerging again from the low passage. "I've 
 searched every inch of the floor around the spot where 
 these things were buried, and there's nothing more. 
 Further on, big lumps of rock and earth have fallen, 
 and the passage is filled up. I'll go back yet." 
 
 The last words were uttered as his eye fell again on 
 the ring. The sight of it affected him painfully. 
 
 " No, let me take a turn," said Will. " I may have 
 better luck." 
 
 They searched for hours, coming up into the daylight 
 
1 68 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 at last with a dazed look on their faces. On her way 
 out of the cave Naomi unknowingly brushed past a 
 figure crouching in the shelter of a rock. Was it sim- 
 ply the effect of the shadows, or had the keen old eyes 
 really lost some of their animosity ? 
 
 No one attempted to joke as they found themselves 
 again at the surface, and stopped to look back into the 
 gloomy hole. The stories of crime associated with that 
 cave had for them moved out of the legendary into the 
 real. 
 
 " Miss Mozingo, I think I wish I had not advised you 
 to come." 
 
 The mill owner stood by Naomi's side, looking with 
 grave kindness into the girl's face. 
 
 Out in the daylight the articles recovered from the 
 mud were being examined with minutest care. The bit 
 of cloth was water-soaked and rotted beyond recogni- 
 tion. It might at one time have formed part of a man's 
 coat. Naomi's face, as she bent over it, was full of sad- 
 ness. With the more certain knowledge of the terrible 
 wrong done to her father, all tumultuous anger was 
 swept away. The fierceness of yesterday was gone, 
 effaced by a deep grief. But if the mill owner were in 
 doubt as to whether the girl's attitude meant any soft- 
 ening of sentiment towards the house of Poteet, her 
 words as she turned to him set that doubt at rest. 
 
 "The deed cannot be undone," she said, "but the 
 name of Kennedy Poteet shall in this valley rot like 
 that scrap of cloth, till men tread it, and all who bear it, 
 under their feet." 
 
 There was no passion in her eyes, nor anger in her 
 voice. It was the cold, calm utterance of judicial de- 
 cision. One of those who heard it must surely have 
 been satisfied, for a pair of thin lips actually smiled. 
 
 The mill owner looked at the girl admiringly. 
 
 "The fury's plumb gone," he said, as he walked 
 
VISITING THE SIN 169 
 
 towards the mill ; " but there's an avenging goddess in 
 its place that won't be nary bit the easier to deal with." 
 " If you du that, you've got enough on hand to keep 
 ye aout o' mischief for one while, gal," said old China 
 Partins, standing among the trees and looking after the 
 brother and sister. 
 
i;o VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 "T T IT ' S spelt, that's what hit is. Thar hain't no 
 
 I I use beatin' abaout the bu-ush. That thar cow 
 JL A won't be no more gue-ude till you shoot the one 
 that's got a grudge agin ye." 
 
 Abner Poteet stared into the ancient face of the 
 speaker, and shook his head. 
 
 " Thar hain't nary one got a grudge agin me or thar 
 useter wasn't," he said. "I hain't so plumb sure now." 
 
 "And you hain't no call to be," replied the woman. 
 " You hain't all a fool, Ab, if you hev done more 'n one 
 powerful fool thing, and you know thar's them that's 
 plumb set agin ye, and that through no fault o' yourn." 
 
 Abner sighed. 
 
 " I hain't denyin' hit," he said, stooping to touch 
 soothingly the head of the cow that lay in the old log 
 cow-barn, refusing food, but every now and again lifting 
 wistful eyes to the big, kindly face above her. 
 
 The cow was sick, very sick. She had every reason 
 to know it herself, and Abner did not doubt it. That 
 was why he had stayed up all night to watch her. It 
 was morning now, and there was no improvement. His 
 nearest neighbour, the old resident who had communi- 
 cated to Naomi her recollections of Kennedy Poteet's 
 guest, stood in the doorway. 
 
 " She's powerful sick, Abner Poteet," she continued. 
 " Thar hain't a smart sight between her and death. And 
 that cow hain't a-dyin' no natural death, don't you per- 
 suade yourself she is. She's spelt ; and if you don't he'p 
 her afore long you won't hev no cow to he'p." 
 
 Abner shook his head. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 171 
 
 " O lor ! Mercy sakes ! " ejaculated the woman. 
 " What's the guede o' tha-at ? You got to stir yourself, 
 Abner Poteet. You got to git shet o' the witch or the 
 wizard that's spelt her. You got to fix kit, or you won't 
 never see that cow on her legs agin. O my lor ! " 
 
 Again there was that positive shake of the head. 
 
 "I cain't," said the man, the patient sadness in his 
 eyes answering to that in the animal's gaze. " I hain't 
 goin' to du nothin' at all." 
 
 " You hain't ! O lor me ! Well, / dectar you are a 
 plumb fool ! Mercy sakes ! " 
 
 She stood with hand uplifted, surveying the interior 
 of that log barn, the central forms the prostrate animal 
 and the big, strong figure standing above it. 
 
 " Why hain't you goin' to du nothin', Abner Poteet ? " 
 she asked impatiently. " Hit hain't so powerful hard to 
 du. If you cain't guess who's done spelt that cow, I 
 can. Lor ! you've only got to dror hi-im git his picture 
 as near as you can. Hit's plumb certain to du for hi-im. 
 You must make a picture of him, and set hit up some- 
 whars, and git a piece o' silver money and melt hit for a 
 bullet. Lor ! hit's powerful easy. And then shoot him. 
 He cain't escape ye if ye shoot him with a silver bullet. 
 He'll be tuk with mortal pain jist whar that bullet goes 
 through him in the picture. Lor ! I know hit ! I've 
 done hit. He'll be a-moanin' and a-groanin' in his bed, 
 sicker than that cow inside o' twelve hours. I hain't a 
 doubt in* hit. But you got to hurry. The cow's power- 
 ful bad. Lor ! she looks like dyin' plumb directly." 
 
 " Yes, she's dyin'," said Abner sadly. 
 
 " Dyin' ! Lor me ! Hain't you got a mite o' sense, 
 Abner Poteet ? Who's fault is hit she's dyin' ? Who's 
 to hinder her from dyin' but you ? " 
 
 " / cain't hinder her," said Abner quietly. 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! You're enough to drive a woman 
 crazy," was the response. " Git a piece o' paper, and 
 
i; 2 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 I'll dror him. I done got powerful good understandiiv 
 of who's at the bottom o* this. Cain't hinder her! 
 Lor ! " 
 
 Abner did not stir. 
 
 " Hain't you goin' to du nothin' ? " asked the old 
 woman, her voice rising shrilly in her indignation. 
 
 Abner shook his head. 
 
 " Well, / dectar ! You're the plumb biggest fool I 
 ever seed. I&oclar I feel like gittin' some silver money, 
 and meltin' hit down, and shootin' him myself." 
 
 He turned to her with a look of alarm. 
 
 " No, I won't have him shot," he said ; and he spoke 
 with decision. " Let the cow go." 
 
 " Then you du know him, du ye ? " she retorted. " I 
 hain't powerful surprised. And you won't shoot him ? 
 Well, I didn't think you was so easy scart, Ab Poteet. 
 O lor ! " 
 
 There was a scornful ring in the shrill voice. 
 
 " He's a powerful sight more likely to hurt ye if ye 
 let him alone than if ye shoot him," she continued. 
 " He'll go on layin' spells on other things beside the 
 cow. Mercy, you've got to stop him. Thar hain't no 
 tellin' what he'll do else." 
 
 " I hain't deny in' hit," said Abner. 
 
 "And you hain't a-stoppin' hit," she retorted con- 
 temptuously. " Why hain't you goin' to shoot him, Ab 
 Poteet?" 
 
 For a minute there was no answer. Abner was look- 
 ing down at the cow. He turned suddenly and con- 
 fronted the woman. 
 
 "I hain't aimin' to make no more sufferin' in the 
 world," he said. " I hain't no call to make hit. Thar's 
 been enough." 
 
 He turned away again. 
 
 "O lor me!" said the woman. "Hit warn't o' 
 your makin'." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 173 
 
 "No, hit warn't and hit hain't goin' to be," he 
 said. "Thar's a sight o' pain, and thar's them belong- 
 in' to me that's made a powerful lot of hit. I hain't no 
 call to make no more, and I hain't aimin' to make hit. 
 The cow cain't die more 'n onct, and she's got to die 
 onct." 
 
 His hand fell softly on the animal's head. 
 
 "O lor me! Mercy sakes ! " said the old woman, 
 and went out. 
 
 Abner Poteet's cow died at noon. It was not until 
 after then that the man broke his fast. He had not 
 left the animal since the previous night. There was an 
 added gloom on his face when he went into the silent 
 house. Abner did not doubt that his cow had been 
 "spelt." He had never doubted that he could remove 
 the spell. He was in no uncertainty as to who was the 
 enemy. But he let the cow die and he felt that he 
 had lost a friend. 
 
 " Thar's been pain enough," he said, as he stumbled 
 over the threshold. " Thar's them belongin' to me 
 that's made consid'rable more than I can reckon up. I 
 hain't aimin' to make a mite more, not if he is powerful 
 set on hurtin' me." 
 
 Abner Poteet was four months older than on the 
 night of the preaching. It might have been four years, 
 to judge from his looks. The mouth had settled into 
 sadder lines since then, and the eyelids more often cov- 
 ered the eyes. Men who met Abner now found it nec- 
 essary to be first ready with the "howdy." If they 
 waited for his greeting, he was apt to pass them with 
 eyes fixed on the ground. 
 
 Not that Abner was morose. But circumstances had 
 changed since he listened to the most " powerfully con- 
 vincin' sermon" that was ever preached in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Big Creek. The renunciation of that night 
 had been complete. Only once during those four 
 
174 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 months had Abner found his way over the pasture lands 
 to a certain little house nestling almost beneath the 
 shadow of the mountains which form the long, straight 
 boundary of the valley. To Abner Poteet, Big Creek 
 Gap meant the environment of that cottage where No- 
 rah Felps lived with her mother in the neighbourhood of 
 the old mines, to which men still went occasionally to 
 take out iron ore. That unpretentious dwelling under 
 the mountain could not claim to be as commodious as 
 many another habitation in the village of Big Creek Gap, 
 but Abner was not the only one to whom it was more 
 luminous. For others besides the son of Kennedy Po- 
 teet those flashing eyes and that queenly face lit up the 
 cottage with a brightness not to be found elsewhere. 
 
 The gypsy-like beauty of the girl had not ceased to 
 appeal to Abner Poteet, but there was something that 
 appealed more strongly. He would stand in the day 
 dawn gazing wistfully across the space that lay between 
 his own house and the mountain, his heart heavy with 
 longing, and then turn quietly away to his work and let 
 the day pass as other days had passed, without a sight 
 of the face for which he was thirsting. 
 
 " She hain't never goin' to hev no part in that visit- 
 in'." It was a decision that was confirmed every time 
 he turned away. 
 
 Circumstances had altered for Abner Poteet in other 
 directions. The old friendly relations which had existed 
 between him and his neighbours of Big Creek Gap had 
 undergone a change. As the weeks wore on, Abner 
 began to feel the difference in the attitude towards him. 
 The " howdy " grew off-hand rather than cordial, and in 
 a few cases was omitted altogether. Men stood and 
 looked after him when he passed, talking in low, confi- 
 dential tones. The easy, friendly intercourse through 
 which Abner had felt himself one with the community 
 around him was broken. Ab did not ask how or why. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 175 
 
 He felt the severing of the bond, and the world grew 
 more lonely. He accepted the loneliness, as he accepted 
 all the consequence of his father's sins, without ques- 
 tioning. It was no new idea that he had less claim than 
 others upon the world's kindness. It was not until his 
 cow sickened and died that he realized the full force of 
 what had seemed but occasional manifestations of an 
 alteration in public feeling towards him. The only dif- 
 ference the knowledge made was that Abner withdrew 
 more persistently from the sight of men. 
 
 He did not know that the change dated from the day 
 when a certain ring was found in a cave. From that 
 time the strength of a girl's will was set for the undo- 
 ing of the son of Kennedy Poteet. 
 
 For Naomi Mozingo there were now two objects to 
 be attained at Big Creek Gap, the earning of sufficient 
 money to start the mill again, and the avenging of the 
 death of her father. The last was the most important. 
 That it appealed less strongly to her brother than to 
 herself did not weaken its hold upon the girl. To Dal- 
 bert, Abner Poteet appeared the harmless descendant of 
 an evil sire. As such, he found within himself no desire 
 to persecute him. Naomi, however, saw in the man the 
 son of his father, and nothing else. She had no personal 
 knowledge of him, and she desired none. It was enough 
 for her that he was the representative of Kennedy Po- 
 teet. That he was worthy of the name she never 
 doubted. She set herself to put that name in its true 
 light before the people of Big Creek Gap. 
 
 Though it was a fact that what Naomi Mozingo un- 
 dertook seldom failed of accomplishment, she had in 
 this case the advantage of an efficient ally. Will Hol- 
 lingsworth was very much in earnest when he pledged 
 himself to his superintendent's sister to carry out her 
 wishes with respect to Kennedy Poteet, He had no 
 personal feeling against Abner Poteet, but he had a very 
 
i;6 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 strong personal feeling in favour of Naomi Mozingo. If 
 the securing of Naomi's favour meant the undoing of 
 Abner Poteet, then so much the worse for Abner Po- 
 teet. The discomfiture of one who was comparatively 
 a stranger was a small price to pay for the friendship of 
 a girl whose eyes could wake from their slumberous 
 beauty, and darken and deepen as did the eyes of this 
 girl while he told her some story of the old days when 
 Kennedy Poteet was yet a power in the valley. He had 
 a right to look into her face and read the expression of 
 those eyes. He had earned the right, was earning it 
 every day. 
 
 There is an old book, much despised and explained 
 away and criticised in the present day, that has in it 
 some strangely far-reaching truths. Those five words, 
 " Seek, and ye shall find," which to a few old-fashioned 
 folk still form a very star of promise in a spiritual sense, 
 are an exceedingly truthful statement of a fact in prac- 
 tical, every-day life. It is indisputable that the objects 
 which men seek with downright earnestness in this 
 world, they rarely fail to find. It was in dependence on 
 this principle that the mill owner set himself to work 
 out of the chaos of rumour and public opinion in Big 
 Creek Gap a vindication of Naomi's attitude towards 
 Kennedy Poteet and his family. Not that Will Hoi- 
 lings worth deemed that the girl's indignation called for 
 apology, especially after the discovery at the "bone 
 cave"; but he justly concluded that all details which 
 would make more conspicuous the evil character of the 
 man or his family would be useful as weapons in the 
 hand of Naomi or himself, and would rob the indigna- 
 tion of that suggestion of revenge which might cause 
 zealous justice to be misjudged. 
 
 It was not hard to piece together the life and charac- 
 teristics of this dead-and-gone rich man of the village. 
 Old men and women remembered him well in his youth- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 177 
 
 ful strength. They were not averse to airing their rec- 
 ollections for the benefit of an appreciative listener. 
 Wonderful stories of his fighting days, when it " didn't 
 take a powerful sight to git Ken's temper up, and he'd 
 as soon fire rocks at a man as lueke at him," were 
 poured into the mill owner's ear. Bit by bit the picture 
 of Kennedy Poteet rounded out, and the man lived 
 again, grasping, overbearing, money-loving, good-na- 
 turedly jovial when not angered, spasmodically generous 
 to his friends, and consistently dangerous to his enemies, 
 a man to be courted and not opposed, a violent man 
 when aroused, but a man with a streak of gentleness in 
 his nature, or he would never have dealt as tenderly 
 with the boy Ab as report gave him credit for doing. 
 
 Unscrupulous, without doubt, was this former owner 
 of the big house in the hollow. His contemporaries did 
 not deny that there were ugly rumours afloat about old 
 Ken ; but " thar warn't no bein' plumb sure whether thar 
 was ary truth in 'em, and if thar was, hit warn't no 
 business o* nobody's. They warn't Big Creek Gap folks 
 that was missin', if so be thar was anybody made away 
 with at all, if they had been, thar'd 'a been a row. 
 No, Kennedy Poteet warn't always so powerful rich, and 
 nobody was plumb certain how he come by his money. 
 He was mighty well off when he died, and the most part 
 of his money went to Ab." 
 
 Naomi's eyes darkened when Will repeated the words 
 to her. Her lips made him no answer, but the mill 
 owner understood. Perhaps his next remark drew in- 
 spiration from the depths of those eyes. He was study- 
 ing them as he spoke. 
 
 " A harmless fellow enough one way, that Ab," said 
 the mill owner reflectively, " but old Ken over again in 
 another. There's John Kisselbaugh, lives over the 
 valley towards the mountain. A mighty unfortunate 
 circumstance for John that his furthermost fields and 
 
178 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Abner's join. A pretty overbearing feller is Ab some- 
 times, or the fact that John once refused to unhitch a 
 pair of mules from a wagon when the other asked him 
 wouldn't have been enough excuse for wrenching the 
 great murderous-looking whip from John's hand, and 
 laying it about John's shoulders. The mules come aout 
 of that wagon tolerable quick, so they say, and the load 
 was tossed on to the ground ; and the strong arm of 
 Kennedy Poteet's son and heir was responsible for both. 
 Sure enough Ab must have inherited something more 
 than his father's wealth, or such things wouldn't happen. 
 According to all accounts, he'll never be as smart as the 
 old man, though. Ab's powerful like his father, so they 
 say, in the swing of his arm and the uncertainty of his 
 temper ; but, when it comes to brains, well, everybody 
 says old Ken knew himself that his boy was a failure." 
 
 It was no proof of an excess in Naomi Mozingo of the 
 least pleasant side of human nature that Will Hollings- 
 worth read satisfaction in her face. Abner Poteet was 
 Kennedy Poteet's son. As such, the consequences of 
 his father's sins must fall upon him, should fall upon 
 him. But it made the retribution easier of carrying out 
 to believe that the son was a worthy descendant of the 
 father. 
 
 That her father's death should go unavenged seemed 
 to the girl a monstrosity. No proper judicial punish- 
 ment could reach the man now ; but the minor punish- 
 ments, the consequences that follow in the train of 
 avenging law when she lays her hand on a transgressor, 
 these need not be remitted. If Kennedy Poteet had 
 paid the legal penalty of his crime, and hung between 
 earth and heaven, as fit neither for the one nor the other, 
 the stain would never have been washed from his name. 
 Men would not then have received the son of the mur- 
 derer on a footing of equality. That they did so now 
 was a proof that the murderer, and not the victim, stood 
 
VISITING THE SIN 179 
 
 highest in the esteem of the community. Until the 
 position was reversed, and men acknowledged the enor- 
 mity of the crime committed in their midst, until they 
 shrank in horror from all connected with the family of 
 Poteet, Naomi's task was not even begun. 
 
 While a representative of the house in the hollow was 
 allowed to live in Big Creek Gap, there was no need to 
 question whether moral feeling had been properly aroused. 
 When public opinion was fairly convinced, brought to 
 an adequate sense of the responsibility resting upon it, 
 neither Abner Poteet, nor any other connected with 
 Kennedy Poteet's family, supposing such were to be 
 found in the valley, would need urging to put the strong 
 wall of the mountain between himself and an outraged 
 community. Until then Naomi would never rest. 
 
 That she had not rested, but that in her own person, 
 or through Will Hollingsworth, her ready ally, she had 
 made a fairly successful assault upon public opinion in 
 Big Creek Gap, was proved by Abner Poteet's altered 
 position in the community. In the past time it was 
 Abner himself who was most fully conscious that he 
 was Kennedy Poteet's son. That fact seemed now 
 unmistakably present in the minds of his neighbours. 
 They had hitherto looked upon Abner as a weak-handed 
 descendant of the determined, money-grasping old man 
 whom they still remembered as a power in the valley. 
 
 " Abner warn't up to his pappy, neither this away nor 
 that away," had been the general opinion. "He was 
 honest enough, was Ab, but well, thar, he was 
 cur'ous, tol'rable cur'ous. He warn't never jist the 
 same atter the upsettin' he got along of his dad comin' 
 to bloodshed with them as was strangers in the valley." 
 
 They had looked leniently upon what they considered 
 Abner' s inferiority, partly because he was Kennedy 
 Poteet's son, and partly because, being his son, he was 
 unlike the father. Of late all this had changed. The 
 
i8o VISITING THE SIN 
 
 valley had come to regard Abner more particularly as 
 the son of the innkeeper, the representative of the old 
 man about whom discreditable stories had been told. 
 
 Moreover these stories were assuming definite shape. 
 It was one thing to listen to rumours about the disappear- 
 ance of unknown travellers, and another to have those 
 rumours solidify and take actual form, to make the 
 acquaintance of the victims, so to speak, in the persons 
 of the son and daughter of one of those missing travellers. 
 Kennedy Poteet, the rich innkeeper, who might or might 
 not have been responsible for the depositing of the sus- 
 picious bones in the " bone cave," and Kennedy Poteet, 
 the probable murderer of the father of Naomi and Dal- 
 bert Mozingo, were two very different men in the eyes 
 of the Big Creek Gap village folk. For Dalbert and 
 Naomi were no longer strangers in Big Creek, and no 
 longer, especially in the case of Naomi, without influence 
 there. 
 
 " A powerful fine girl, and as handsome as a picture," 
 was the verdict of Big Creek Gap. 
 
 The story of the finding of the ring had gone abroad, 
 aided by the mill owner's tongue. It was a tongue that 
 possessed facility in the art of speaking a word in the 
 right place, and the word spoken was apt to be a telling 
 one. 
 
 To Abner Poteet the air of Big Creek Gap had grown 
 chill. 
 
 " It's part of the visitin'," he said, and went less among 
 his fellow-men. 
 
 There was one house in the village where he would 
 have met with no change, but to that house Abner care- 
 fully abstained from going. 
 
 " Thar hain't goin' to be no shadder of hit fall on her," 
 he said. 
 
 It might have been presumption for him ever to have 
 hoped that his life and the life of Norah Felps would 
 
VISITING THE SIN 181 
 
 blend. The girl's brilliant beauty brought her many 
 admirers. She was a village girl by birth and education, 
 and the valley was proud of her. From the time when 
 she gained her first taste of knowledge in the village 
 school, and in concert with her companions shouted long 
 rows of spellings at a pitch that spoke well for the lungs 
 of the future men and women of Big Creek, the village 
 had watched her with a sense of pride. Norah had won 
 the distinction of being put early into the writing class, 
 an honour accorded only to those who " could read good." 
 A student might be as old as the teacher and as ambitious 
 as he pleased, but he would not be placed among the 
 privileged few who took writing lessons until the reader 
 and the speller were mastered. 
 
 The village curriculum opposed no unscalable heights 
 to Norah' s progress. Her black eyes had sparkled and 
 danced at the discomfiture of many a youth who essayed 
 to rival her achievements at school. They had had the 
 same sparkle in them more than once since that time, 
 presumably at the discomfiture of those same youths, 
 when, grown too big for the narrow seats of the rural 
 hall of learning, they followed the girl to the house by 
 the mountain, and again dreamed of conquest. There 
 had been no lack of wooing, but the winner had not been 
 proclaimed. 
 
 Abner had made no claim to rival these more daring 
 spirits. In his own eyes he had little to recommend 
 him ; but he went often across the pastures, and Norah 
 and he were good friends. She never used her tongue 
 to Abner' s undoing, as sometimes happened in the case 
 of more aggressive suitors. And he was content to be 
 near her, to watch patiently till there was a want he 
 could supply, to rejoice in the light of her presence, and 
 dream happy, foolish dreams of a future in which the 
 rest of the company was missing, and only himself and 
 Norah occupied a world that was all good for her sake. 
 
182 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 He knew they were foolish, those unreasoning dreams. 
 How could they be otherwise? There was no such 
 world of unclouded brightness for him while he was 
 Abner Poteet. But though the cloudlessness should 
 turn out a myth, there was Norah still, and she was 
 good to him. Not unvaryingly good, but comparatively 
 good at all time's. She never drove him to distraction 
 as she did some of her other suitors, or sent him home 
 all but resolved to shoot himself or her. 
 
 There were not lacking those who suggested that 
 Kennedy Poteet's money had something to do with the 
 girl's kindness to Kennedy Poteet's son. But everybody 
 knew that the only part of Kennedy Poteet's wealth that 
 his son had ever consented to use was that which 
 belonged to his mother, the little log cabin, and the 
 fields pertaining thereto. He had " nary wish to handle 
 more of hit," he said ; and when the big house was shut 
 up, and Abner went to live upon the small farm, men 
 shook their heads over his obstinacy, and gave him credit 
 for sincerity, As for those who suggested the money 
 theory in explanation of Norah' s kindness to Abner, they 
 were village maidens mostly, and not quite impartial in 
 their judgment. 
 
 They had left off speculating now. There was nothing 
 to speculate about, had been nothing since the night 
 of the preaching. Abner had given up his journeys 
 across the pasture lands and his dreams by the cabin 
 fire. That was all, except that there was an empty 
 chamber in the man's heart, and the yearning memory 
 of a girl's face that would not be put out of his life. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 183 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 IN spite of the discovery made in the " bone cave," 
 Dalbert's face had brightened in the months since 
 he came to Big Creek Gap. It looked very young 
 and glad to-night ; though, when the pile of letters by his 
 side was despatched, he would be as poor as when he 
 turned his back on Cedar Fork valley. Those letters 
 were going where, just at present, it would not be ad- 
 visable for Dalbert himself to go ; and every one of them 
 contained that which was calculated to soften the verdict 
 of one resident of Cedar Fork valley. The letters drew 
 the young man's gaze with the attractive power of a 
 magnet. 
 
 " You're as plumb glad to part with your last cent to 
 that threatening, discontented crew as if there was nary 
 a man in Cedar Fork valley but was your most devoted 
 friend." 
 
 Naomi's hand came lightly down on her brother's 
 shoulder as she spoke. She, too, was looking at the 
 letters. 
 
 " Yes, I'm powerful glad to send it," he said, with a 
 smile and a sigh. "Two more batches like that, and 
 John Sharp will have his mouth shut." 
 
 " Are you plumb sure ? " asked the girl. " It'll take a 
 smart sight more than paying every dollar you owe him 
 to shut John Sharp's mouth. It was neither reason nor 
 justice that opened it, and it ain't going to be either rea- 
 son or justice that will shut it. When John Sharp shuts 
 hi-is mouth, it'll be a si-ight." 
 
 "Well, he'll have no cause to open it against me," 
 said Dal. 
 
1 84 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " A right smart of difference tha-at '11 make," drawled 
 Naomi. 
 
 Dalbert looked up at her with a smile. 
 
 " You're hard on John," he said, " but there 'd be 
 less in that envelope going to him if you hadn't helped 
 earn it." 
 
 "That's a tolerable big stretch of the truth," retorted 
 the girl. " I'm plumb ready to prove that nary cent of 
 my earnings went into that letter. John Sharp may 
 whistle for his money for all me, or swear for it, as he 
 did the day I left him on the road outside Jellico. 
 That '11 suit hi-im better. He's a master hand at tha-at, 
 but he'll never swear dollar or cent aout of me. All 
 mine went to the others." 
 
 "The pile was bigger for it, though," he said, with 
 another smile. 
 
 She laughed. She was almost as glad as he was to 
 feel the burden of debt lifting. Her courage had never 
 failed her in the darkest time. But it was pleasant to 
 see the light. 
 
 It was pleasant, too, to know that she had had a share 
 in bringing the good time nearer. If old China Partins 
 had to-day pressed her nose against the window-pane of 
 the house in the neighbourhood of the Gap, the face 
 that had awakened her anger would not have met her eyes. 
 That house stood empty now, and it was a very new 
 structure, but a few hundred yards from the mill, that 
 owned Naomi as mistress. The mill owner experienced 
 much satisfaction at the change, and Naomi was the 
 richer. It was the mill owner who brought it about. 
 
 "Miss Mozingo, I'm powerful hungry and desperate," 
 he said, as he seated himself at Naomi's table. " There's 
 inequality in things. Here's Dal here hoggishly monop- 
 olizing advantages that other men would give their eyes 
 to share. I haven't had a decent meal since well, 
 since you let me come here last." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 185 
 
 " Which was a right smart ago, wasn't it ? " asked 
 Dalbert, reflectively. 
 
 "Aright smart! It was an eternity," asserted the 
 mill owner. 
 
 " Why, didn't Dal bring you home with him y ester 
 day ? " asked Naomi innocently. 
 
 " Yesterday ! Miss Mozingo, I'll swear it was as far 
 back as the day before," he said tragically. 
 
 " Was it ? " she replied. " I thought Sally White was 
 a good cook." 
 
 "I'm starved," he repeated. "Sally White ain't to 
 blame. She lives up to herself. And it's plumb sure 
 her punkins ain't. Miss Mozingo, there's heaps of 'em. 
 There's punkins under the beds, and punkins overhead, 
 punkins hanging in strips to dry, and punkins in pokes 
 with the drying already done. It ain't the punkins that's 
 going to fail : it's the man to eat 'em." 
 
 Naomi's eyes lighted with mirth, though they tried to 
 look grave. 
 
 "I'll never give you punkin pie again," she said. 
 
 "I'm plumb ready for punkin pie or anything else 
 here," he asserted. 
 
 He returned to the attack later, when the johnny- 
 cake was removed from its shingle before the fire. 
 
 " Miss Mozingo," he said gravely, "Sally's johnny-cakes 
 are made of quarter kernels of corn, and so is her corn 
 bread. Sally's that powerful saving that it would send 
 her into a fi-it to take her corn to the mill. Years ago 
 she made her a tin mill, and on that mill Sally grinds up 
 all the corn for her corn bread and her johnny-cake. I 
 ain't plumb sure which comes nearest to being worn aout, 
 the old mill or the old hand that rubs the corn up and 
 down inside it. I was that put about at last with the 
 fineness of her meal that I got me a piece of tin, and 
 punched it full of holes. Then I bent it over a board in 
 approved fashion. I was tolerable sure it was going to 
 
186 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 be a surprise to Sally and it was. ' Sally,' I said, 
 ' I've made you a new mill that '11 grind tolerable fine/ 
 Miss Mozingo, the pity of it ! The old witch took that 
 new tin mill, turned it over in her hands, felt of it, and 
 dropped it into the fire. ' If my grindin' hain't fine 
 enough for ary two-legged critter that comes trottin' 
 inter this valley from nobody knows whar, and settin' up 
 to find fault with cue-kin, gue-ude enough for them 
 that's a plumb sight better 'n him, he can get his vict- 
 uals somewhars else,' she said. And I'm getting 
 them," added the mill owner, tragically. 
 
 Naomi laughed. 
 
 "The case is sad and desperate," she said. " Sally 
 is well, of a tolerably remembering disposition." 
 
 "She is" replied the mill owner, with a long sigh. 
 " Miss Mozingo," he added, " you took pity on the men 
 at Cedar Fork. On your own showing, you fed them, 
 and fed them well. I've a mind to put up a boarding- 
 house in connection with the mill. I wish you would 
 come and take charge of it. You and Dal shall have the 
 best rooms in it, and I'll see it's made profitable for you. 
 I want a boarding-place where the cue-kin' ain't so pow- 
 erful fine ; and I know two or three men, at least, who 
 will be glad enough to get nearer to the mill. If you'll 
 come and take possession, I'll have the house up in two 
 weeks." 
 
 And he kept his word. Naomi hesitated a little, and 
 Dalbert more. Dalbert had no fault to find with the 
 mill owner ; but the arrangement would bring him into 
 closer contact with Naomi, and it did not please Dal to 
 see the young man grow daily more intimate with his 
 sister. Expediency, however, settled the business. 
 
 " It '11 take less time for two to earn the money than 
 for one, and it's money we're after," said Naomi. 
 
 So the brother and sister removed to the boarding- 
 house, and Will Hollingsworth was happy. The change 
 
VISITING THE SIN 187 
 
 made the carrying out of his compact with Naomi so 
 much the easier. The two had something in common 
 beyond the ordinary life of the boarding-house. He did 
 not forget the fact himself, nor let Naomi forget it. 
 
 It was not a small task the girl had set herself, but 
 she was strong in will and in the justice of her cause. 
 Also there were in Big Creek Gap, as in every other 
 community, internal elements that could be brought to 
 bear. Furthermore there was the mill owner, who was 
 anything but a small force in this siege of public opin- 
 ion. Already he had attacked the outworks. At the 
 very moment when he was gaining corroboration of his 
 own and Naomi's judgment, he was undermining the 
 foundation of the enemy's standing. His hearty laugh 
 at the account of some high-handed exploit of the rough- 
 and-ready great man of the valley had hardly time to 
 tickle the vanity of the story-teller before the listener 
 had labelled the deed and the doer with an appropriate 
 epithet, that would not fail to stick by reason of its 
 suitability. Suggestions, carefully worded and lightly 
 thrown out, took root. The story of the cave, and of 
 Naomi's discovery there, was told with skill and effec- 
 tiveness. People began to see Kennedy Poteet in a light 
 that was more penetrating than any that had yet shone 
 on his character. It was one thing to think of him as 
 the possibly responsible party in the disappearance of 
 certain strangers who might or might not have provoked 
 attack, and quite another to see in him the almost con- 
 victed murderer of the father of the handsome girl 
 whose face grew stern and sorrowful when the subject 
 was mentioned in her hearing. 
 
 " That girl was plumb fond of her pappy, and hit was 
 a powerful shame not to let him go back to his young 
 uns," said Big Creek Gap. 
 
 Men began to remember that they had always enter- 
 tained something more than suspicion about the doings 
 
188 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 of the innkeeper, and to persuade themselves that it 
 was rather kindness of heart than dimness of vision 
 that had kept them from openly denouncing their 
 neighbour. 
 
 And there were not lacking in the valley men who 
 had entertained a grudge against Kennedy Poteet or his 
 son Abner. Among the best claimants to long life and 
 indestructible vitality, a good grudge takes high rank. 
 Circumstances cannot kill it, and suppression only lends 
 it extra force. There was more than one such grudge 
 ready to come to the surface in Big Creek Gap, and 
 more than one man in the neighbourhood who hailed 
 the times as propitious and Will Hollingsworth as a 
 friend. These grew virtuously indignant over the 
 wrongs of Naomi and her brother, and shook their 
 heads when Abner' s name was mentioned. They agreed 
 with the mill owner that doves were not to be looked 
 for in eagles' nests, and that the talons would show 
 themselves sooner or later. 
 
 "Thar warn't a more cur'ous-turned man in Big 
 Creek than Ab," they asserted ; " and thar was no bein' 
 plumb sure jist what he was up to, shet away in that 
 house o' hisn." 
 
 The mill owner shook his head, slapped the speaker 
 on the back, and expressed his conviction that there 
 were some men who couldn't be fooled. Then he went 
 his way, and left internal forces to work in Big Creek 
 Gap. 
 
 If they had not worked effectually, Abner Poteet 
 would not have felt the chill of loneliness wrapping in 
 his life as it had never done before. If they had not 
 worked, the cow that had been like an old friend would 
 still have been watching for his coming in the barn ; for 
 the hand that dealt the blow at her life and Abner' s 
 comfort would have hesitated to strike. 
 
 Abner fully believed that his cow had been " spelt," 
 
VISITING THE SIN 189 
 
 and if his feet had been at liberty to follow their own 
 leading, they would have carried him unerringly to the 
 perpetrator of the deed. He thoroughly appreciated 
 the force of his old neighbour's argument that he who 
 had worked this harm would work more. But he would 
 not take the suggested revenge. " The son of Kennedy 
 Poteet had no call to make ary more pain. Thar 'd been 
 enough." He withdrew more persistently from the 
 sight of men, and the weeks drifted into a new year, 
 
 " A tol'rable dark night " was making it evident that 
 there was rain in the wind. Big Creek men-folk were 
 cleaning their guns. Those who worked at the mill 
 decided to take the guns along to-morrow. " If hit 
 come on to rain, hit would be a powerful good time for 
 squirrel-shootin', and the work would hev to wait." 
 Men who did not work at the mill prepared for a good 
 day's sport. 
 
 Abner's gun stood in its accustomed place behind the 
 door ; that is to say, it would be behind the door when 
 the door stood open. To-night it was shut, and the gun 
 in full sight. There was no temptation to leave the 
 door open. Neighbours were scattered and few, and 
 still fewer were those who would be likely to brave the 
 darkness to seek speech with the innkeeper's son. 
 
 A bright fire blazed on the hearth. In all Big Creek 
 Gap there was not a man as lavish as Abner in the 
 matter of firewood for use after dark. While daylight 
 lasted, Abner was as frugal as his neighbours ; but, when 
 darkness drifted down upon the fields and dwellings, 
 Abner's fire sent up a spurt of flame. " Hit was com- 
 pany," he explained, "to hev a plumb good fire atter 
 dark." 
 
 A cheery fire and a bolted door stood between Abner 
 and the grim darkness without. Grim without relief 
 was the dark, mystery-haunted outside world after sunset 
 to the big, simple-hearted man shut within the log house. 
 
190 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 It would have taken a strong arm and a fierce nature to 
 make Abner quail before any of his fellow-men, though 
 a keen sense of his own ill-desert as the son of Kennedy 
 Poteet could make him over-modest in their presence; 
 but the forms and forces with which, for him, that 
 unknown, unexplainable darkness was filled, were power- 
 ful with horrible possibilities. Weird stories of witches 
 and ghosts had haunted his memory from childhood. 
 The natural meaning by that the seen and partially 
 understood world around him was not one bit more 
 real to him than that which normally was unseen, but 
 which, in his belief, might at any moment appear, and, 
 seen or unseen, was always past understanding. 
 
 The unseen, but never unfelt world beyond his com- 
 mon, every-day life, was to Abner a pressing reality. A 
 nature morbidly sensitive to every suggestion of another 
 world, a mind stored with the thrilling traditions of the 
 mountain sides, a conscience sleepless and exacting, a 
 heart that craved after the eternal goodness, which to 
 Abner took the form of eternal justice, left the man 
 trembling in the conscious presence of the unseen. 
 Other men believed passively in spirits and in witches 
 and in supernatural manifestations : Abner 5 s belief lived. 
 For him the darkness was peopled, and the terrors of a 
 future world and the terrors of that which was present 
 blended. Above him was the God of whose purposes 
 and government he had but a distorted knowledge, and 
 whom he yet believed that he knew, around him the in- 
 fluences of which he had heard, but which he could 
 neither understand nor escape from. And between 
 them was the man, filled with a tender personality, per- 
 meated by a boundless humility, dominated by a desire 
 to serve God and men, but overwhelmed with a sense 
 of vicarious guilt and personal helplessness. 
 
 Night, for Abner, represented the power of darkness. 
 He fought it with the glowing firelight, and with every 
 known charm that could keep evil at a distance. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 191 
 
 At the present moment the firelight shone on a tenant- 
 less interior. Abner was in the barn, ministering to the 
 needs of his mules, and talking to them in low, caressing 
 tones that never failed of appreciation. Perhaps it was 
 the sound of Abner' s voice in the barn that stayed the 
 footsteps of a stranger, and made him pause in the 
 shadow cast by the log cabin. He must have been 
 intent on assuring himself that the owner was away, or 
 he would not have gone softly up to the uncurtained 
 window and peered in. He seemed as fond of the dark- 
 ness as Abner was of the light, for he crept back into 
 the deep shadow and listened. In the barn he could 
 hear Abner walking from place to place, and by watch- 
 ing the different positions of his lantern could even follow 
 his movements. It was when the light had gone farthest 
 away that the stranger stepped out from the shelter of 
 the building, and boldly opened the cottage door. The 
 blazing logs burned merrily, throwing a gleam across the 
 imprint of a horseshoe upon the threshold. Abner had 
 heated to redness the shoe of which it was the impres- 
 sion, and laid it on the door-sill, that, when it had burned 
 a deep mark into the wood, the foot of witch or wizard 
 might never dare to cross it. Was the foot that pressed 
 the threshold now less to be feared than those which 
 the charm was meant to restrain ? 
 
 The man was evidently not disposed to await the 
 return of the householder, for his movements betokened 
 haste. Moreover he held his head stiffly, as if his ears 
 were on the alert. A hasty glance round the room 
 possibly revealed to him the object of his search ; for he 
 stepped behind the door, and then closed it. Immediately 
 after, his hand drew towards him the gun, a cherished 
 possession to Abner Poteet. The firelight shone upon 
 the weapon and upon the face of the man who held it, 
 and a couple of minutes passed. The stranger was well 
 in the light now, and his face was plainly visible. It was 
 
192 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 a coarse face, with more of animal life and passion than 
 of manly vigour in it, one that to the eye of ordinary 
 men acquainted with it would display no prominent alarm 
 signal, but that to children and animals would serve as 
 a warning. Its owner was engrossed in his examination 
 of the gun. He came nearer to the fire for the benefit 
 of more light. Evidently the weapon interested him. 
 
 There was a sound outside. With a quick movement 
 the man replaced the gun in the corner, and walked over 
 to the fire. It was a false alarm, however. Abner was 
 not coming. 
 
 The stranger waited to assure himself of the fact. 
 Then with three strides he reached the door. Once 
 there, he paused long enough to allow of a deliberate, 
 satisfied glance at the gun, and a smile came to his lips. 
 A minute more and darkness covered him, as it had 
 covered him once before weeks ago when he crept 
 into Abner's barn in the dead of night. There was a 
 cow in the barn then. There was none now. 
 
 When Abner returned to the house it was as still as 
 if it had known no visitor in his absence. The com- 
 panionable fire could have told a story that Abner would 
 have understood, but it was dying down. He drew the 
 bolt of the door, and came over to throw more wood on 
 the embers. Then he sat down to wait for the reviving 
 light, looking into the fire's heart the while. He was 
 thinking of Norah. 
 
 The men of Big Creek Gap were right. The next 
 day was wet ; and when it cleared there was a time of 
 slaughter among the squirrels. Every man in Big 
 Creek took his gun, and went out. Abner Poteet took 
 his gun from its corner, and went too. 
 
 " I may shoot me a turkey or a deer," he said, " but 
 I'm plumb sure to get me some squirrels." 
 
 It was not altogether strange, perhaps, that his search 
 led him into a stretch of woodland upon the mountain 
 
VISITING THE SIN 193 
 
 slope, within the shadow of which a man, coarse of face 
 and surly of mien, had just passed. The farms of Abner 
 Poteet and John Kisselbaugh were contiguous ; there- 
 fore it was no real wonder that both went to shoot in the 
 same wood, for it lay conveniently near. But it was 
 not quite so evident why the feet of John Kisselbaugh 
 lagged till Abner approached. His "howdy" was surly 
 enough. He had never forgiven Abner for coming 
 between the strength of his arm and the quivering, 
 straining mules, harnessed to a load a third too heavy 
 for them and deep set in a mud hole, from which he was 
 trying to extricate mules and load by the torture of his 
 whip and the terror of his voice. The " howdy " was 
 insolent as well as surly to-day. John had never for- 
 given Abner, but he had hidden his animosity, until 
 lately. There was no need to hide it now. Big Creek 
 Gap had turned, or was turning, its back on the inn- 
 keeper's son. 
 
 Abner' s answer was civil, but he passed on in another 
 direction. Presently a squirrel scampered across his 
 path, and stopped a few yards away to look at him. He 
 raised his gun, and pulled the trigger. The squirrel sat 
 and stared, and no harm was done. He tried again, and 
 the result was the same. What was amiss ? The gun 
 had never failed him before. He let the squirrel escape 
 while he examined the weapon. He was so fully en- 
 grossed that he did not hear footsteps behind him until 
 they were very close. Perhaps the huntsman to whose 
 approach the footsteps were attributable did not mean 
 that he should. As John Kisselbaugh passed his neigh- 
 bour, he turned with a savage leer on his face. 
 
 " Missed fire, didn't hit ? " he said mockingly. " You'll 
 never shoot nothin' more with that gun, Abner Poteet. 
 Hit hain't no manner of use for you to try." 
 
 He passed on, and Abner stood looking after him. 
 
 " Hain't hit ? " he said at last, in a low voice. There 
 was a doubtful ring in it. 
 
I 9 4 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Many times that morning Abner tried to prove to his 
 own satisfaction that the words of his neighbour, John 
 Kisselbaugh, were wrong. Sometimes the gun missed 
 fire, sometimes the charge went wide of the mark. At 
 noon Abner Poteet returned to his home. He carried 
 no game. Slowly he deposited the gun behind the door, 
 and stood looking at it. 
 
 " Hit's spelt," he said, and went to the fire to prepare 
 his dinner. Once he looked towards the corner, and 
 sighed. The gun was almost as real a friend as the 
 cow. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 195 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 NATURE is accommodating in her more southern 
 domains. Man being there somewhat wanting in 
 energy, she sets the streams to hew out store- 
 houses for his benefit, and to make natural covers for 
 his water supply. In the locality of Big Creek Gap men 
 were in the habit of going to the caves the water had 
 hollowed out for them to fill their buckets and to store 
 their butter and meat, as well as, on occasion, to help 
 themselves to nature's surplus of ice waiting on the 
 floors and roofs of these same caves, and refusing to 
 melt long after the air outside had grown soft and warm. 
 Not far from the house of Abner Poteet, but in the 
 direction of John Kisselbaugh's farm, there was a cave 
 that afforded cold storage for all the meat and butter of 
 the immediate neighbourhood. The stream that ran 
 through it bubbled over high, broken rock in such a way 
 that the water was scattered, and near the mouth of the 
 cavern big ice cakes and pendants formed in the colder 
 nights. These remained for weeks, and so lowered the 
 temperature within that meat could be kept longer there 
 than in any spring-house in the vicinity. 
 
 Though the cave was not on his own land, Abner Po- 
 teet had been in the habit of storing his butter there. 
 Several months had passed since his cow died ; but he 
 had yet some three or four jars of butter made in the 
 summer, standing in a niche in the rock. It was Feb- 
 ruary, and the air was warm and pleasant as Abner went 
 to the cave to fetch one of those jars. He had not yet 
 made up his mind to replace the cow by another. 
 Where should he be the forwarder ? he asked himself. 
 
196 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The same evil genius that had laid a spell on his gun 
 and his cow might work again. When his store of but- 
 ter was exhausted, he could buy more. As for milk, he 
 did without it. 
 
 He was not surprised to find John Kisselbaugh within 
 the cave. John had long kept his butter there, but it 
 did not often happen that Abner encountered him. To- 
 day the man was standing a few yards in, talking to two 
 or three others. They moved further back as Abner 
 entered, but from neither one nor another was any greet- 
 ing forthcoming. Abner looked at them for a moment, 
 and then passed them and turned to the recess where 
 his butter was kept. As he did so, the men came up 
 behind him. 
 
 " Whose butter have you got there beside your own, 
 Abner Poteet ? " 
 
 The voice was John's, and the insolent ring in it 
 arrested Abner's hand as he stretched it out to draw a 
 jar of butter towards him. 
 
 " Thar's none too much of my own, let alone ary other 
 person's," he said, facing round and fixing his eyes on 
 the speaker. " Thar's no cow at my place now, John 
 Kisselbaugh." 
 
 " More fool you for not buyin' another, then," said John. 
 " You've come in for enough o' the old man's pickin's 
 to git you as many cows as you've a mind to want." 
 
 "I hain't wantin' another," said Abner quietly. 
 " Hit'd be powerful unwise for a man to buy cows when 
 he hain't sure jist whar his enemies are aimin' to hurt 
 him next." 
 
 He faced round towards the rock again, and put his 
 hand into the deep recess. 
 
 " Don't be in a hurry," said John, in a slow, insolent 
 drawl, laying his hand on Abner's arm as he spoke. 
 "We-all are aimin' to see fair play. Hit don't foller 
 because a man's lost his cow through neglect in' of her 
 that he's goin' to draw on his neighbours for butter." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 197 
 
 " What's that mean ? " asked Abner, the angry colour 
 coming into his face. 
 
 " Mean ? That's what hit means ! " 
 
 John swung a lantern into the recess, and disclosed 
 two jars of butter pushed behind the others. In size 
 and make they differed slightly from those in front. 
 
 " Are you aimin' to tell we-uns them butter jars are 
 yourn, Ab Poteet ? " 
 
 " No, I hain't," was the reply, spoken in clear tones. 
 
 " Oh, you hain't ? " sneered John. 
 
 " No," repeated Abner, in a louder voice, " I hairit. 
 But I'm aimin' to tell you, John Kisselbaugh, that if 
 you stick your butter jars behind mine, and want to 
 make me aout a liar, hit hain't surprisin' me. I hain't 
 sure thar's ary harm you wouldn't du me if you could." 
 
 " I hain't makin' ye aout a liar," sneered the other. 
 " Hit hain't lyin', hit's thievin', to take things that belongs 
 to ary other person. Hit's a thief I'm callin' ye, Ab 
 Poteet ; and hit hain't the fust time you've done stole 
 my things." 
 
 What ? " 
 
 Abner took a step towards him, his face white with 
 anger. Then he drew back. 
 
 " You're a-lyin', and you know hit," he said quietly. 
 
 " Lyin', am I ? " shouted John, who had retreated 
 hastily upon Abner's forward movement, but was bold 
 again now that it became evident no personal attack 
 was meditated. " Hit's likely I'm the liar, hain't hit ? 
 Hit's tol'rable likely ary one would believe I stole my 
 own jars, and set 'em behind yours jist to make you a 
 present of 'em. Hit's powerful likely folks are goin' to 
 take me for the liar and allow you're speakin' the truth. 
 Hit wouldn't take long to fix his character on Ab Poteet, 
 the son of old Ken, that all men know was a thief and 
 a murderer." 
 
 There was a moment of eloquent silence as the man's 
 
198 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 loud, coarse voice died away. Those who were present 
 saw Ab's face grow red and then pale. He pressed his 
 lips together. 
 
 " He's dead/' he said, after that momentary silence. 
 " I hain't answerin' for him one way or the other. I 
 cain't." Then after another breathless pause : " I hain't 
 tuk your butter, John Kisselbaugh, and you know hit. 
 If you-uns want to call me a thief because I'm his son, 
 thar hain't nary one to hinder you." 
 
 " Hain't thar ? John Kisselbaugh, look this away ! " 
 
 He did look. They all looked. How could they 
 help it ? The girl's voice and words and person all com- 
 bined to make them look. 
 
 She stood within the mouth of the cave, her finger 
 pointed towards John, her splendid eyes fixed on him. 
 
 "John Kisselbaugh, say that agin," she commanded. 
 
 He was silent. 
 
 "Say hit agin, or else unsay hit," she repeated, like 
 an offended goddess of justice. "Say what you said 
 afore Abner spoke last. Hit's a coward that dassen't 
 stick to his words." 
 
 John looked at her apprehensively. He had not reck- 
 oned on a skirmish with Norah Felps. 
 
 "Thar hain't no call to say hit agin," he replied. 
 " I've said hit, and I stick to hit." 
 
 "Hit'll stick to you more like," she retorted scorn- 
 fully. "Lor, John Kisselbaugh, you'd better 'a kep' 
 your mouth shet. We-all know what you've got agin 
 Ab. Hain't forgot the sore shoulders he give ye yit, 
 hev ye? Lor me, if Ab likes to rouse himself,- he'll 
 soon hev you daown on yer knees, prayin' for mercy. 
 You wouldn't be no more than a babe if he tuk ye in 
 hand. Castin' up dirt at his pappy, was ye ? Lor, thar 
 wouldn't be no need to go back to your dad, John, to 
 find a thief. Nary one would want to search so fur. 
 Touch a sneak and you've got a thief six times aout of 
 
VISITING THE SIN 199 
 
 half a dozen. Hit's plumb easy to fling ill names at a 
 dead man. He cain't answer ye. My lor, if he was 
 here, hit hain't John Kisselbaugh that'd dare show his 
 face. He'd fixymt-tt, John, and send ye home cryin' to 
 yer mammy. Ab's too powerful big to deal with^0#-. 
 He's afraid of breakin' your mean little neck. I hain't 
 sure but I could fix you myself. Hit would be safer for 
 you to be gittin' aout o' this. Now then march ! " 
 
 The last words were spoken in a different tone. 
 The drawl went out of the girl's voice. She half 
 turned, and pointed her finger in the direction of the 
 mountain. 
 
 A shout of merriment went up at John's expense. 
 The girl stood derisively contemplating the man, in the 
 way in which she would have viewed some strange, 
 loathsome animal. Her finger still pointed towards the 
 mountain, and her lip curled. 
 
 He looked at her for a moment, as if weighing his 
 chances of resistance, hesitated, moved a step towards 
 the opening of the cave, and then turned on her savagely. 
 
 " Standin' up to the old man's money, hain't ye ? " he 
 said. " We-uns hain't fools enough not to know what 
 you see in Ab. You hain't aimin* to hev ary harm said 
 o' the old murderer while you've got the son and the 
 money in hand. Nary bit would you look at a great 
 fool like Ab if thar warn't the old dead sinner's hoard 
 at the back of him." 
 
 He turned precipitately, making for the outside world 
 as fast as his legs could carry him. Those who were 
 present said afterwards that the legs shook painfully. 
 It might have been true for they had reason. The 
 face of the girl grew still with passion. 
 
 " Stop, John Kisselbaugh ! " she said, in a voice that 
 rang like coming vengeance in the culprit's ears. " You 
 hain't goin' that away " 
 
 Her voice ceased. The words died on her lips 
 
200 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 There was no need to tell John Kisselbaugh to stop. 
 He had been stopped. A hand with a grasp of iron was 
 on his shoulder, shaking him back and forth like a cat 
 worrying a mouse. It stopped, took a deeper hold that 
 went to the bone, and then lifted the coward from 
 his feet, and held him kicking and swaying above the 
 ground as in vigorous jerks it almost shook the teeth 
 out of his head. Then with a thump it set him on the 
 floor of the cave in front of Norah. 
 
 " Now, you sneak, unsay that ! You can call me 
 what you've a mind to : I hain't aimin' to stop ye ; but, 
 if you set your lyin' tongue agin her, I'll " 
 
 Abner stopped short, with his hand yet on John's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "I warn't aimin' to say nothin' agin her," said the 
 man sullenly. 
 
 " Unsay what you said ! " roared Ab, giving the shoul- 
 der a shake that so nearly upset John's equilibrium as 
 to cause him to stretch out his hands, wildly clutching 
 at space. 
 
 A shout of laughter met the anguished grasp at 
 nothing. 
 
 "I I wa-ar-n't meanin' no harm. I I 
 hit warn't true ! " blurted out the unhappy John, be- 
 tween the shakes. 
 
 Ab released his hold. 
 
 "She told you to go," he said, with an outfling of 
 his arm. 
 
 John gathered himself together and went, as quickly 
 as his shaking limbs and gasping breath would let him. 
 
 There was silence within the cave. It was Abner 
 who made the first movement. 
 
 " Thar hain't no call to take account of every snake 
 that thrusts aout hits tongue at you," he said ; and he 
 came a step nearer, and looked appealingly at Norah. 
 
 " Hit's a tol'rable crushed snake," she replied scorn- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 201 
 
 fully. " Hit's gone off with bleedin' tail and draggin' 
 head. Hit hain't powerful creditable to be led by a 
 snake, I reckon." 
 
 The last remark was addressed to the company in 
 general. The three men replied by an uneasy laugh. 
 
 " Well," she said, looking at them with a thought- 
 fully contemptuous smile on her lips, " like gits with like 
 everywhars, don't hit ? Better be runnin' atter your 
 friend. He's powerful lonesome, gallopin' across the 
 fields to git home afore Ab chances on his track." 
 
 " I hain't so plumb sure he's sich a mighty friend," 
 began one of the men apologetically ; but the girl cut 
 him short. 
 
 " Hain't ye ? " she said, in a tone of surprise. " I am. 
 Why, lor ! thar hain't no hidin' hit. You and him's as 
 good as one. Meanness is ketchin' as the measles. 
 You've done tuk it bad. Ketched hit along o' John, and 
 got hit powerful thick." 
 
 She turned her back on them as she spoke, and went 
 further into the cave. With a shamefaced grin, and a 
 barely hidden scowl, the man addressed walked away, 
 followed by the others. 
 
 Abner stood by the cave's mouth. He did not speak, 
 nor move. He had not seen the girl for weeks, and his 
 eyes searched the semi-darkness hungrily for a sight of 
 her face. And yet, with the eagerness of a starved 
 animal in his mien, he was minded to go away. Once, 
 twice, he tried, and failed. Then he stood and waited. 
 Her figure was only dimly to be discerned beyond a 
 point where the passage narrowed. His gaze pierced 
 the gloom with the greed of a miser excited by the glint 
 of gold. His breath came in short gasps. Not as a 
 result of his efforts to mete out a measure of justice to 
 John Kisselbaugh. It was another and greater effort 
 that quickened the beating of his heart and made his 
 breath irregular. It was easier to keep a grip on his 
 
202 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 enemy's shoulder than on those words that rushed to his 
 lips and struggled there for utterance. 
 
 " I hain't goin' to say hit. There's her to think of. 
 She hain't goin' to bear none o' that visitin'. Hit's got 
 to be stopped poured aout plumb on me." 
 
 The words were low, only half audible. His eyes 
 still scanned the interior. When the face he was look- 
 ing for appeared, coming nearer now, but softened and 
 ether ealised by the subdued light, he uttered a low cry. 
 
 " Norah ! " 
 
 Entreaty, excuse, and yearning were in the one word. 
 
 She came to the mouth of the cave, came up to 
 him, and looked into his face. 
 
 " Hit hain't plumb through my fault," he said apolo- 
 getically ; "but hit's rough, hit's rough for you." 
 
 " Du you think I'm carin' ? " 
 
 She looked at him defiantly, but with a smile on her 
 lips. 
 
 " Maybe not," he said ; " but 7 am." 
 
 " For what he said ? " 
 
 "For what he said abaout^0#." 
 
 "He knew he was lyin'," she said, "and so did I. 
 And so did you," she added slowly ; " and, if ary other 
 didn't, hit warn't makin' much difference." 
 
 " No," he said, looking into her face with a yearning, 
 sorrowful gaze. " Hit cain't make ary difference now. 
 Thar hain't nothin' can make ary difference. Hit's what 
 is, not what people says, that's matterin'." 
 
 She looked at him for a moment doubtfully. 
 
 "Ab," she said, "thar's things you ought to know, 
 and you hain't the one to find aout. Thar's people 
 say in' things agin you and agin your pappy." 
 
 "I know hit," he said, in a tone that told of evil 
 accepted and taken home to the heart. 
 
 " They ought to be stopped," she said sharply. 
 
 "/cain't stop 'em," replied Abner gently. "I hain't 
 the right." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 203 
 
 " Who has then ? " asked the girl. 
 
 " Nobody," said Abner sadly. " I hain't knowin' how 
 much of what they say is true. Norah, he's my pappy, 
 and I hain't knowin' jist how many sins thar is" 
 
 The weird mournfulness of tone and statement struck 
 to the girl's heart. 
 
 " You take it too serious," she said, half in anger at 
 his attitude. "I don't believe a quarter of the tales 
 they tell. Why, they say " 
 
 She stopped short. The pain in his face and in his 
 whole bearing arrested the words. What was the use 
 of telling him ? He would believe it all. She put her 
 hand on his arm. 
 
 " Ab, you're a plumb fool," she said. " He was your 
 pappy, but he wasn't you. And I hain't so powerful 
 sure he was what they say. If hit was my pappy, I'd 
 give 'em as good as they sent. Thar never was none 
 o' this talk till Naomi Mozingo and her brother come 
 along. And hit's her more 'n him. He hain't so plumb 
 certain of what nobody cain't know for sure. But she 
 well, if she made up her mind thar was a rotten egg 
 in the moon, hit'd hev to be so." 
 
 " Hit hain't matterin' what they say," he replied sadly, 
 passing over her last words. " Hit's what he done, and 
 me bein' his son and hit's you. Hit hain't goin' to 
 fall on you." 
 
 "I hain't carin' what they say," she replied, with a 
 little disdainful toss of her head. "Hit hain't makin' 
 no difference thar. But if hit was my pappy, I'd stop 
 her talk. Hit looks powerful like hit was the money 
 she's atter, the money she says she's lost." 
 
 He looked at her with sad wistfulness. The last 
 words went into his ears, but were not at the time com- 
 prehended. 
 
 "Hit does make a difference, hit must" he said. 
 " Not what they say, but what he done. I hain't 
 
204 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 knowin' jist what it was. I hain't expectin' to know. 
 Hit's all got to be visited. But hit shain't come on 
 you." 
 
 He bent suddenly forward, took both her hands in his 
 strong grasp, and looked in her face, his eyes hot and 
 dry, his gaze so sorrowful and yearning that it brought 
 an answering tenderness to her eyes. For a minute he 
 stood thus, then gently released her hands and turned 
 away. 
 
 Without once looking round he left the cave and the 
 girl standing where she had stood when he let go of her 
 hands. He had forgotten his jar of butter, forgotten 
 John Kisselbaugh and his charges, forgotten everything 
 but the fact that he was Kennedy Poteet's son, and the 
 visiting of his father's sins must fall on him, and should 
 fall nowhere else. 
 
 The girl stood within the cave till he had disappeared. 
 
 " He hain't no match for ary one of 'em," she said. 
 " He's a-takin' his father's sins on his own shoulders, 
 and bearin' all they like to heap up inter the bargain. 
 Hit's powerful foolish, but hit's hit's Ab" 
 
 The brain of man is a strange machine. Somewhere 
 in its mechanism it keeps account of impressions of 
 which, when made, the mind barely takes cognizance. 
 Words, heard but not heeded, come back, freshened and 
 strengthened by their sojourn in some dim recess of the 
 brain where they were stowed away unwittingly. It was 
 long before there was room in Abner's mind for any 
 other thought than the one of Norah's personality and 
 his renunciation. Whether the dream of a world with 
 Norah and without anybody else had been a foolish one 
 or not, and on that point he had never been assured, 
 it was over now. He had given her up, and she knew 
 it. He could never dream again except of what might 
 have been. 
 
 But slowly, so slowly that he did not know when it 
 
VISITING THE SIN 205 
 
 came, another thought began to engage his attention. 
 The past involved money as well as life. There were 
 sin and sorrow and suffering back there ; but there was 
 money, too. And somebody was laying claim to it. 
 
 Abner's brain was not of the rapid-working order. 
 He thought the subject out slowly and painfully, piecing 
 together the words that Norah had let drop and hints 
 that had come to him before. He had never forgotten 
 Naomi, and the visit she paid him at the close of the 
 day. But that visit had been associated in his mind 
 with the indefinite wrong of the past. He thought she 
 was reproaching him for his father's sins, those vague, 
 terrible transgressions, of which one, witnessed in child- 
 hood, had taken such a firm hold of his imagination that 
 after it nothing of horror or of shame appeared impos- 
 sible. Now, into this past came the question of money. 
 Had this girl any claim that he could satisfy? Was 
 there a wrong that could be righted, one out of those 
 sins of the fathers that could be blotted out by restitu- 
 tion ? 
 
 Abner had inherited the greater part of his father's 
 wealth, though a portion of it had gone to a nephew of 
 whom old Kennedy had been fond. So far as Abner 
 was concerned, the wealth was wasted. He had never 
 used it, preferring to live in the little log cabin that had 
 been his mother's property. For him there was a curse 
 on Kennedy Poteet's money. But if any of it could be 
 given back, restored to its rightful owner ? The thought 
 presented a new possibility. 
 
 Abner did not know how the day went ; but he knew 
 that the night was long, for it brought him no forgetful- 
 ness. Norah' s face, the beauty of the girl he could 
 never claim, haunted him, tortured him with a desire 
 to possess it, with a yearning sense of loss, with the 
 hopelessness of renunciation. At the earliest dawn he 
 was outside his door, looking with sad, searching eyes at 
 the familiar things. 
 
206 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Breakfast was well over, and the men had gone to 
 the mill, when Naomi saw a stranger approaching the 
 house. She had seen Abner Poteet by his own fireside, 
 and occasionally since, but his figure was not familiar to 
 her. It was not until he came near that she recognised 
 the innkeeper's son. Then face and form stiffened. 
 The hand that opened the door at Abner' s knock was 
 steady, and the eyes that looked at him, cold. The 
 girl's heart was not cold. It burned with a sense of 
 outrage. How dare this man come here, when he knew 
 that his father's guilt was discovered ! She stood with 
 the door in her hand, waiting for him to speak. 
 
 "I'm the son of Kennedy Poteet," he said slowly 
 and sorrowfully. " They say that he that you claim 
 you have suffered loss through him. The past is dead 
 with him. I hain't denyin' that what you say is true, 
 and I hain't acknowledgin' hit. I hain't no right. I'm 
 willin' to pay anything you like, fourfold if you've a 
 mind to ask hit." 
 
 He was waiting for her to speak. He saw her eyes 
 darken and her face kindle. 
 
 " You offer me money ? " she said in slow, measured 
 tones. " You ! " 
 
 " Yes," he said simply. " I never used hit. Thar's 
 enough. You may be right or you may be wrong, but 
 hit'd be the safest for you to hev hit." 
 
 " I don't doubt it would for you!' replied Naomi. 
 "Abner Poteet, if you brought all the money he sold 
 his soul for, all he took from those whose bones he left 
 to moulder and whose children he left to mourn, I would 
 not touch a cent of it. If you think it will buy silence 
 from me, or stop the retribution that is as surely coming 
 on every one who bears the name of Poteet as the night 
 is coming after the day, you're powerful mistaken. 
 Keep the money. It is the price of blood. It shall 
 cling to you, like the curse that goes with it." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 207 
 
 His eyes were fixed on her face. The ringing, 
 measured tones sent the words eating their way into his 
 heart. 
 
 " I hain't expectin' to git shet o' the curse," he said. 
 
 He turned away, and left her standing by the door. 
 
208 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE point of view has almost as much to do with 
 what men see as the actual object of sight. Vio- 
 lent difference of opinion would be eliminated, 
 and heart-burning and clashing of judgment reduced to 
 a minimum, if everybody could look upon the same thing 
 from the same point of view. Unfortunately for the 
 peace of the world, the moral hill-top, on which men can 
 gather and look out upon life's duties and relationships 
 from an entirely equal view point, has yet to be dis- 
 covered. 
 
 Naomi and Dalbert Mozingo were experiencing some 
 of the difficulties attendant upon antagonistic points of 
 view. To both the loss of their father had been an 
 equal sorrow, but it had presented itself to them under 
 different aspects. Dalbert had always looked upon it as 
 a loss to be mourned, Naomi as a mystery to be ex- 
 plained. Hitherto the difference in the point of view 
 had troubled neither. Such difference was habitual to 
 the brother and sister. Naomi had always laughed a 
 little ironically at her brother's attitude towards the 
 world and towards circumstances. His readiness to see 
 the adverse side of every question affecting himself, and 
 to shoulder the evils fate showered upon him, and his 
 unreadiness to perceive faultiness in others, by which 
 unreadiness he courted fresh attentions from fate, were, 
 in her estimation, characteristic of Dalbert. But in her 
 heart she admired the stalwart honesty and manly kind- 
 ness of the brother whose depression she set herself to 
 charm away when the load grew too heavy for him, and 
 whose misfortunes she patiently shared or boldly re- 
 moved by some daring exploit. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 209 
 
 And Dalbert admired and trusted and depended upon 
 the girl whose nature was to him somewhat of an 
 enigma. Lighter than his own at some points, it dis- 
 closed at others depths that he could not fathom. He 
 had never seen eye to eye with his sister, but he loved 
 her and rested in her, so that until now differences of 
 opinion had been of little consequence. With the 
 advent of the mill owner there had come a change. 
 
 The brother and sister had reached a point where 
 they not only failed to see alike, but where each felt the 
 blindness of the other a moral wrong rather than a 
 moral incapacity. To Naomi, Dalbert 's slowness to 
 acknowledge the duty of avenging the death of their 
 father was a want of fealty that amounted to positive 
 weakness. To Dalbert, his sister's eagerness to seek 
 the vengeance for which her conception of duty to her 
 father called seemed a soul - hardening desire for re- 
 venge, a vindictive pursuing of the helpless for the satis- 
 faction of her own anger. He did her a partial injus- 
 tice, but he did not know it. His mistake arose from 
 failure to understand the aspect in which the matter 
 presented itself to her, and not from failure to love. 
 
 The breach would have been less wide but for the 
 presence of the mill owner. Naomi had grown very 
 confidential with Will Hollingsworth of late. He was 
 essential to the accomplishing of the end upon which 
 she had set her will and her heart. The mill owner did 
 not envy Dalbert now. He had come into a brother's 
 privileges with something a little different from a 
 brother's position. He appreciated his good fortune, 
 and made the most of it. And in proportion as his inti- 
 macy with Naomi increased, Dalbert 's indignation at 
 what he termed " the savage pursuit of Abner Poteet " 
 grew more pronounced. 
 
 Not that Naomi had, directly, anything to do with the 
 treatment Abner received, beyond the fact that her 
 
210 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 words, sometimes spoken personally, sometimes through 
 Will Hollingsworth, had brought into being, and were 
 daily quickening into vigour, feeling inimical to him in 
 Big Creek Gap. For John Kisselbaugh's attacks, covert 
 and otherwise, she was not responsible, except in so far 
 as public opinion was responsible for them, and she was 
 responsible for public opinion. John had hated Abner 
 even before the strong arm of the latter had delivered 
 the tortured mules from his power, but his was not the 
 character to embody its hatred in open injury until the 
 man he hated lay under the heel of fate. 
 
 It chanced that Dalbert heard of Abner's visit to his 
 sister indirectly, instead of from herself. She had kept 
 it no secret that the innkeeper's son had tried to buy 
 her silence with respect to one of his father's victims, 
 for this was the light in which Naomi viewed the effort 
 Abner had made to restore what might have been 
 wrongfully taken, but she had not spoken of it to her 
 brother. The knowledge, when it came to him, pleased 
 him ill. If Naomi's view of Abner's action were right, 
 it proved that her attitude was at least open to miscon- 
 ception : if wrong, it afforded somewhat conclusive evi- 
 dence that she was persecuting an innocent man. It 
 did not add to his good temper that the knowledge had 
 come to him through the chance remark of a man at the 
 mill. He walked home in a perturbed state of mind, 
 and in the same state of mind encountered his sister. 
 
 " Naomi, when is this worse than folly to stop ? " 
 
 She was standing by the door when he accosted her, 
 her hands hanging lightly down by her sides. She 
 stood there when he had finished speaking, and not a 
 finger had moved. 
 
 "You look wa-arm for the time of year," she 
 said, " powerful wa-arm." 
 
 There was a sarcastic smile on her lips. It did not 
 tend to cool him. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 211 
 
 "Naomi," he said angrily, "this is no time for fooling. 
 You're in the wrong, and you know it." 
 
 She looked at him fixedly, and there came to her eyes 
 a depth that made them darken and glow as with some 
 half concealed fire. 
 
 " In the wrong, am I ? " she said in a low, ringing 
 voice. "And where are you, Da-al ? It's powerful 
 right and powerful creditable, isn't it, for his son to take 
 sides with his murderer ? " 
 
 " Take sides ? " he said impatiently. " There were no 
 sides till you made them." 
 
 Her eyes grew deeper still. They looked at him in a 
 way that was not comfortable. 
 
 " You're plumb ri-ight," she said slowly. " There 
 were no sides, or rather there was only one side the-en ; 
 and that was the murderer's. There was none to be on 
 the other side but hi-im, and his mouth was shut. No-o, 
 it's powerful true that there was but one side till I put 
 myself in the wrong by making another, his side." 
 
 "What good have you done him ? " asked Dalbert, his 
 irritation in no wise diminished by the fact that her 
 words had the appearance of turning the tables and 
 fixing the faultiness on himself. " It is nothing but a 
 wild fancy of your own, this idea of revenge on another 
 than the man who did the deed, a scheme of yours 
 and Will Hollingsworth's. And speaking of Will, I 
 wonder you don't see that people will talk. He might 
 be your brother, judging by the way you take him into 
 your confidence." 
 
 "Yes, he mi-ight be my brother," said Naomi, with 
 those great darkening eyes of hers still fixed on his 
 face. " He behaves a tolerable sight more like it than 
 you-u do. It's my brother's place to do his duty towards 
 my father and hi-is. But he preferred to leave it to 
 Will, and Will did it. Yes, he's powerful like a brother : 
 he ha-ad to be." 
 
212 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Or like something nearer," said Dal, and turned and 
 walked away. 
 
 He did not go into the house that night until the 
 lights were out and everybody was in bed. His remon- 
 strance had not only failed of its effect, but had widened 
 the breach between himself and his sister. 
 
 March was not half over that year before the farmers 
 were busy " making their gardens." The odd little bul- 
 lock-tongue ploughs, that made light, uneven scratches 
 in the soil, were being dragged up and down precipitous 
 ledges by the sure-footed mules, preparatory to " making 
 a little crop of oats." Here and there oxen were at 
 work ploughing up the level land in the valley. Nobody 
 was in a hurry, for Nature gave the worker abundant 
 time for his operations in this region where she smiled 
 more often than she frowned. There was no necessity 
 for haste. 
 
 Perhaps that was why a stranger, walking along the 
 steep, rocky path that led to the saw-mill, surveyed the 
 scene leisurely. Hurry would be manifestly out of 
 place in a world like this around him. There was no 
 hurry at the mill, certainly ; for there even the wheels 
 were resting. Dalbert Mozingo himself was idle, though 
 the worried look on his face scarcely betokened rest. 
 
 Howdy." 
 
 The stranger strolled into the open space in front of 
 the mill. 
 
 " Had a breakdown, I hear." 
 
 His eyes keen blue ones, that had not looked about 
 on the world for twenty-six years without learning some- 
 thing from it leisurely scanned the faces and figures 
 of the men lounging in the neighbourhood of the mill. 
 After that scrutiny their owner turned unhesitatingly to 
 Dalbert Mozingo. 
 
 "Feel like having ary kind of repairs done?" he 
 asked. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 213 
 
 " I feel like having everything done, if it will set the 
 machinery going again," said Dal. "But who's to do 
 it ? The break's beyond my knowledge." 
 
 " Maybe hit's not beyond mine," said the stranger. 
 " I'm a machinist. I heard thar was something wrong 
 at the mill, and came up to see." 
 
 " Do you understand this machinery ? " asked Dalbert, 
 looking more closely at the speaker. 
 
 He was of medium height, and slight build. The 
 lithe, sinewy form showed grace and strength in every 
 swing of the arm or movement of the body. The head 
 was held well up, but carried lightly, as if its owner had 
 expected good at the hands of the world, and had found 
 his expectations met without conscious effort on his part. 
 
 " I reckon," he said, with a smile that was possibly 
 more convincing than the words. 
 
 "You're welcome, then," said Dalbert, "nary one 
 more so." 
 
 They went into the mill together. 
 
 "Who's he?" questioned the loungers, looking from 
 one to another for an answer. 
 
 Heads were shaken doubtfully. 
 
 " Looks mighty like a stranger. He's a powerful 
 pretty man." 
 
 " He's done come in the nick of time," said another. 
 
 "I reckon." 
 
 " Whar have I seed his face afore ? " asked one of the 
 company, thoughtfully. "I'm plumb put aout. If I 
 hain't sot eyes on him more 'n onct in my life, I've seed 
 somebody powerful like him. I cain't jist decide whar, 
 though." 
 
 They laughed, and went into the mill. 
 
 The breakdown proved to be more serious than Dal- 
 bert supposed. Will Hollingsworth was away, and in 
 his absence Dalbert took upon himself the responsibility 
 of having the machinery overhauled. The stranger set 
 
214 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 about the examination with the cool ease that was char- 
 acteristic of his every movement. Dalbert did not 
 again question his knowledge of machinery in general, 
 and this piece of machinery in particular. He took his 
 time over the examination. 
 
 " H it'll take two or three days to git things in good 
 shape agin," he announced, when the extent of the 
 damage was discovered. 
 
 Dalbert' s reply was emphatic. 
 
 "It's got to go through quicker 'n that," he said. 
 "There's stuff laying here that's promised to men who 
 need it. It's trees now. It's got to be boards in less 
 time than you say." 
 
 " Very good," replied the stranger. " I'll patch things 
 up for you, and have the wheels turning in less than 
 twelve hours, if you say so." 
 
 " I do say so," responded Dal. 
 
 "Very good," repeated the stranger. "The ma- 
 chinery shall be working at daybreak to-morrow." 
 
 From that moment the mill ceased to be a good 
 lounging-place. 
 
 " That feller steps round powerful lively himself, and 
 seems to think everybody's as young and spry as him," 
 grumbled one of the men, reluctantly bending his back 
 to lift a heavy block. " Hit '11 be a plumb guede thing 
 when the mill's runnin' agin'." 
 
 " Lor ! you needn't be scart," was the reply. "He 
 hain't goin' to git no extra work aout o' you-u. The 
 man hain't born that could du tha-at." 
 
 There was an answering laugh, and the work went on. 
 
 Noon found the stranger at Naomi's table, his keen 
 blue eyes scanning the girl's face. 
 
 " We're getting the break patched up," explained Dal, 
 " and shall be at work again by to-morrow, thanks to," 
 
 He stopped inquiringly. 
 
 " Marshall Lane," replied the stranger, with an odd 
 
VISITING THE SIN 215 
 
 little smile that broke round -the corners of his mouth 
 and then died away. He was watching Naomi. 
 
 "How long will you guarantee the machinery to 
 work ? " asked Dalbert presently. 
 
 "Twenty-four hours and take the risk of my 
 words," replied the other. 
 
 Dalbert stared at him. 
 
 " Why didn't you say so before ? " he demanded, half 
 angrily. 
 
 " You did not ask me," was the reply, given with a 
 quiet smile. " You said the machinery must be set at 
 work. Very well. I will set hit at work, but I will not 
 guarantee for how long. Hit may go for twelve months 
 or twelve hours." 
 
 Dalbert sat and looked at him, his dinner forgotten. 
 
 " What would you advise me to do ? " he asked after 
 a minute's silence. 
 
 " Eat your dinner, in the first place," replied the 
 stranger, " and keep on with the patching up in the next. 
 Hit hain't plumb necessary to stop the mill all the time 
 the repairs are being done. Git things started agin, and 
 to-morrow me and the blacksmith will set to work to 
 make the new bolts and parts that are needed. When 
 everything's ready, we can stop the sawing and git things 
 fixed in abaout a day." 
 
 Dalbert breathed a sigh of relief, and Naomi vouch- 
 safed a longer glance from eyes that for the moment lost 
 their slumberous calm and awoke for him as they had 
 not done before. He had come at a time when his 
 presence was needed to help her brother out of a diffi- 
 culty. That of itself was sufficient to commend him to 
 her notice. But Marshall Lane was not a man who 
 needed commendation from outside circumstances. He 
 was accustomed to depend on himself for his welcome, 
 and rarely to go without it. Perhaps he exerted himself 
 a little more than usual to win it on the present occasion. 
 
216 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Not visibly. The blue eyes that now and again sought 
 Naomi's had the same quiet smile in them for the girl 
 that was there for everybody else. But possibly it came 
 a little more often, and stayed longer. 
 
 The pressure of work at the mill was not over as soon 
 as Dalbert expected. He found it inconvenient to stop 
 the machinery. Fortunately Marshall Lane was accom- 
 modating. 
 
 " I'm in no hurry," he said. Take your own time. 
 I came to look abaout the valley a bit. Hit hain't plumb 
 certain I shain't be putting up machinery of my own 
 before long. I shall be here when you want me." 
 
 Apparently he found Naomi's cooking to his taste, 
 for he took no steps to provide himself with other 
 accommodation. 
 
 "You cain't turn me aout, Miss Mozingo," he said 
 with that smile which Naomi had come to acknowledge 
 as pleasant ; " for the machinery may break down ary 
 day, and hit is plumb necessary for me to be on hand 
 for your brother's sake." 
 
 " I could perhaps put up with a worse nuisance for 
 Dalbert' s sake," she said. 
 
 There was a meeting of a pair of calm dark eyes and 
 two keen blue ones. Then the owner of the blue ones 
 laughed. 
 
 " I accept the position," he said. " We are both will- 
 ing to do something for Dalbert's sake." 
 
 The first week gave place to a second, and the machin- 
 ery was not yet adjusted at the mill. Will Hollingsworth 
 was still away, and business was pressing. Dalbert had 
 begun by being somewhat suspicious of the stranger. 
 He ended by liking him unreservedly. As for Naomi, 
 she had possibly better opportunities for judging than 
 her brother. Marshall Lane's comings and goings were 
 less regular than those of other members of the house- 
 hold. She could not reckon on his being away from 
 
VISITING THE SIN 217 
 
 breakfast until noon and from one until evening. In 
 truth there were few days when he did not break in on 
 her work or her leisure. She took the interruptions 
 kindly. 
 
 It was perhaps because she had a little more work than 
 usual to do that she found the weeks short. This was 
 the first occasion that Will Hollingsworth had left the 
 valley since her own arrival there. It was strange that 
 his absence did not leave a bigger blank. 
 
218 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE two weeks of Will Hollingsworth's absence 
 from Big Creek Gap had put Marshall Lane on a 
 very friendly footing at the house over which the 
 steep bank above the " branch " hung protectingly. In 
 spite of the breakdown in the machinery the weeks had 
 been satisfactory ones to Dalbert. Local demands and 
 calls from a distance had kept the mill going at its full 
 capacity, and an unusually large quantity of work had 
 been turned out. This in itself was enough to rejoice 
 the heart of Dalbert Mozingo. It would have vexed 
 him sorely had the mill owner been given cause to com- 
 ment disparagingly on his superintendent's management 
 during his own absence from the mill. 
 
 Those same weeks could not have been altogether 
 unsatisfactory to the superintendent's sister, for the 
 girl's step was buoyant, and the soft Southern voice had 
 in it a melodious ring that was suggestive of happiness. 
 Dalbert' s attitude might possibly be regarded as the 
 provocative cause of the happiness. There was a notice- 
 able lessening of his irritability towards his sister. In 
 the absence of the mill owner he found himself disposed 
 to attach less importance to Naomi's position with 
 regard to the family of Kennedy Poteet. Now that 
 Will was not there to keep prominent the difference of 
 opinion, the brother and sister fell into something like 
 the old relations. Dal was glad to let the matter rest, 
 and Naomi well, maybe it was not at the moment the 
 foremost interest of her life. 
 
 For the pursuit of justice or vengeance may be- 
 come an interest as absorbing as any other. Naomi did 
 
VISITING THE SIN 219 
 
 not tell herself that a pair of blue eyes, which were occa- 
 sionally caught studying her face, had anything to do 
 with the alteration of feeling. She was not in the habit 
 of telling herself that any man's interest or indifference 
 could make more than a passing change in her feelings. 
 
 She was not averse to being admired, but she took 
 the admiration very much as a matter of course. That 
 this stranger should find her a fitting object of study 
 was nothing new. They all did it. But it was a little 
 new that the study should make any material difference 
 to her enjoyment of life. That it was doing so, she did 
 not at present acknowledge. She had not thought about 
 it. She had simply gone on her way, and found life 
 pleasant. As for Marshall Lane, he was content also, 
 unless appearance and reality strangely contradicted 
 each other. 
 
 The business of the day was over. Twilight would 
 have been fading into darkness if a moon, almost full, 
 had not ridden high overhead. As it was, daylight 
 simply stepped aside, and gave place to moonlight. 
 
 "Miss Mozingo, hit's a pretty night, too pretty to 
 be spent indoors." 
 
 A well-shaped head appeared in the doorway, and a 
 pair of clear blue eyes looked in on Naomi. 
 
 " Yes, I thought you had gone aout to enjoy it." 
 
 She was lifting a pile of plates to a high shelf. The 
 action showed to advantage the grace and symmetry of 
 her form. Marshall Lane stood watching her. 
 
 " Won't you come ? " he asked, as she turned for 
 another pile. 
 
 "Perhaps, when I have finished," she said. 
 
 He was by her side, with outstretched hand, a mo- 
 ment too late to help her with the second load. She 
 looked at him with a laugh in her eyes. 
 
 " You choose the smaller of two evils," she said. 
 " The choice lies between waiting and making yourself 
 useful." 
 
220 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "No, the greater of two privileges. Either leaves 
 me where I want to be," he replied. 
 
 "Perhaps. There's a powerful lot of things that 
 sound plumb different and mean exactly the same," she 
 said. 
 
 They went out together. The moon looked down on 
 them approvingly. Marshall Lane began climbing the 
 precipitous, almost overhanging bank. 
 
 " The air is fresher on top," he said. 
 
 Upon the road above they stood for a minute, drink- 
 ing in the cool evening air. Beneath them was the 
 house, and not far from it the mill, occupying the low 
 land by the bed of the "branch." Above, on the oppo- 
 site side of the stream, rose a high hill, shutting in the 
 " branch," and the steep bank, and even the rugged rock 
 pathway beneath their feet, that went dipping down 
 sharply till it reached the level of the valley road which 
 here crossed it at right angles. Looking down towards 
 that road, the dark outlines of the Walden range could 
 be seen, apparently so close to-night as to stretch sheer 
 across the end of the pathway upon which the two were 
 standing. 
 
 "Hit's pretty, hain't hit?" said Marshall. "Miss 
 Mozingo," for Marshall Lane had not dropped into 
 the more familiar form of address adopted, as a rule, by 
 the workmen, and taken very much as a matter of course, 
 "if nary person had been before me, hit's thar I 
 should have built a mill." 
 
 " A saw-mill ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 " No, a grist-mill. I've had my eye on that spot for 
 years. I put hit off a little too long." 
 
 " You knew the place, then ? " said Naomi. " You 
 must have known it well, to choose that spot." 
 
 " Yes." Then after a moment's silence : " I spent a 
 year or more here some time ago." 
 
 " Here, in this roadway ? " 
 
VISITING THE SIN 221 
 
 " Not exactly," he said with a little laugh. " But in 
 Big Creek Gap, and in this neighbourhood." 
 
 They were walking on now. He had taken the initi- 
 ative, and turned in the downward direction, which would 
 lead them into the valley road. 
 
 " You have not been here for ten years, I think you 
 said," remarked Naomi. 
 
 " More than that. I was a boy when I came. But I 
 knew every foot of the valley. Hit was soon after the 
 war." 
 
 She did not answer him. The words had sent her 
 thoughts leaping back, and quickened emotions that had 
 been less active of late. She felt as if the moonlight 
 had been suddenly dimmed. 
 
 He did not speak again. He was watching the 
 changing expression of her face. The moon was a 
 splendid ally, revealing what night pretended to hide. 
 They had almost reached the end of the path before the 
 silence was broken. It was Naomi who spoke. 
 
 " Are we going to turn back, or get our feet wet ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 They had come to a point where the " branch " filled 
 the space between hillside and hillside, and the path dis- 
 appeared beneath the waters, or, more properly speak- 
 ing, took to mountain ways and became a mere track, 
 climbing laboriously the rocky projection above the 
 stream. 
 
 " Neither," he said. " We will climb. Hit's not dark 
 enough for stumbling." 
 
 He held out his hand, and she put hers in it. It was 
 not necessary. She was a mountain girl, and she knew 
 the way perfectly. But he kept it in his strong grasp, 
 and they went hand in hand over the spur of the hill, 
 and down into the valley road. 
 
 " We have come down for the pleasure of going back," 
 she said, laughing. " There is no other reason for being 
 here." 
 
222 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "Isn't that pleasure enough?" he asked. " Hit is 
 for me." 
 
 He went on a few steps, however, until they stood in 
 the hollow, facing the big house. It was dark and 
 silent. Just so it had appeared when Abner Poteet 
 came before it on the night of the preaching. Marshall 
 Lane looked long at the building. 
 
 " You did not know the old man who lived there," he 
 said, turning to the girl by his side. 
 
 He looked into her face. It had frozen beneath the 
 light of the moonbeams. 
 
 " I know what he was," she said, in a voice that was 
 very quiet. 
 
 " Do you ? So do I a little," he replied, in a dif- 
 ferent tone. " Miss Mozingo, I think there was never 
 a man abaout whom I should feel more like applying that 
 Bible injunction, * Judge not.' Nobody really knew 
 Kennedy Poteet but the One who alone is able to judge 
 him. He was the strangest mixture of good and evil 
 that ever bore the name of man but for me the good 
 predominated." 
 
 "He did not kill your father," she said, in a cold, 
 hard voice. 
 
 "No," he answered gently. "Is hit plumb certain 
 he killed anybody's ? Yes, I know what you would say," 
 he continued, answering the quick gesture. "There 
 was the time when Abner surprised him in one of his 
 fits of passion, and witnessed what looked like a mur- 
 der. But Ab was a mere child, and could not under- 
 stand how the quarrel arose. The rest is solely con- 
 jecture." 
 
 He had not taken his eyes from her face while he 
 spoke. He saw it change from cold stillness to a quiv- 
 ering, passionate life. The lips that opened to make 
 him answer drooped one moment in sorrow and the next 
 hardened with passion. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 223 
 
 "Was it conjecture that my father was seen in that 
 house, and never seen again ? " she asked, in clear, low, 
 vibrating tones. " Was it conjecture that he came there 
 overflowing with God-given life, filled with eager love 
 for his children and anxiety to be with them again, and 
 from that moment the life and the love and the anxiety 
 perished from the earth, and his children stretched aout 
 empty hands and called his name into blank space? 
 Was it conjecture that his ring his was found in 
 the cave where men say that Kennedy Poteet was in 
 the habit of burying his victims ? Even his son does 
 not deny the charge." 
 
 She was looking at him with eyes dark as night, but 
 kindling with a smothered fire. They challenged him. 
 He gazed into them, and hesitated. 
 
 "Miss Mozingo," he said, "until hit's plumb proved, 
 hit does nary thing but add to your sorrow to make so 
 powerful sure he died as you think. Why should it 
 please you to believe so cruel a thing ? " 
 
 "Why does it please me?" she repeated, with angry 
 scorn. " Is it question of pleasure or pain ? Can be- 
 lieving or disbelieving undo the deed ? The death was 
 his. I can at least bear to believe it and to seek to 
 win justice for him." 
 
 " Yet you may be bearing an imaginary sorrow, and 
 putting on another an undeserved punishment," he said, 
 more gently still. 
 
 " Undeserved ? " Her eyes were flaming now. They 
 blazed into his. 
 
 "Yes," he said. " Hit impossible that even Kennedy 
 Poteet does not deserve all your condemnation. Hit is 
 certain that his son does not." 
 
 She looked at him for one long minute in perfect 
 silence. He met the gaze of those scornful eyes steadily. 
 
 " He is his son," she said, " inheritor of all that could 
 by ary possibility descend from parent to child. The 
 shame of his father's sin is his." 
 
224 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " And hit is for being his father's son that you con- 
 demn him ? " he asked, in the same gentle tone. 
 
 " Yes. Should the family of the murderer go free, 
 and the family of the murdered suffer ? " she demanded. 
 " Upon whom should the punishment fall if not upon 
 his children and his kin ? They are one with him." 
 
 " In a measure, yes," he said. " And you make no 
 distinction ? " 
 
 " None. Why should I ? " she replied. 
 
 He stood looking at her for a moment, and then 
 turned. 
 
 " Shall we go back ? " he asked. 
 
 He would have taken her hand again to help her over 
 the swell of the hill, but she kept it by her side. They 
 walked back along the moonlit path in absolute silence. 
 To Naomi the beauty was gone from the night. 
 
 " Miss Mozingo, will you come back along this road 
 to-morrow night ? " he said at last. I have something 
 I want to tell you down there by the old house." 
 
 They were nearing the mill. She stopped, and looked 
 at him. 
 
 " Why should I ? " she asked coldly. " To you my 
 feeling is nothing but folly. Your sympathies are upon 
 the other side. The question does not touch you per- 
 sonally. Why should we talk of it further ? " 
 
 " Doesn't touch me ? " he said. " Thar agin hit's best 
 not to be plumb sure. You shall judge of that after 
 to-morrow. You will come ? " 
 
 The keen blue eyes were fixed on hers. There was 
 something compelling as well as entreating in them. In 
 truth, the compelling force was stronger than the sup- 
 plicatory. Naomi yielded. 
 
 " If it's a pretty night," she said. 
 
 His eyes thanked her. For himself, he turned away, 
 and left her to go on to the house alone. 
 
 Why was it that the glory had gone out of the moon- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 225 
 
 light and the springtide had lost its gladness? Why, 
 because Marshall Lane did not agree with her, should 
 the night be suddenly robbed of its grandeur and the 
 world look cold and gloomy ? His attitude placed him 
 in the ranks of those whom she had come to regard as 
 her enemies. Well, there were others relegated to those 
 ranks before ; but it had never troubled her unduly. 
 
 " Where is Marshall Lane ? I thought he went aout 
 with you." 
 
 Dalbert was standing by the door. 
 
 " He did/' replied Naomi. " But he found the moon- 
 light pleasant. He turned back a minute ago." 
 
 " I reckon he'll soon be in." 
 
 Naomi was not so sure, but she left her doubts unex- 
 pressed. 
 
 " I want to have a talk with him," continued her 
 brother. " If nothing new turns up in the morning, 
 we'll overhaul that machinery to-morrow. Then, if he's 
 in a hurry to be getting away after his own business, it 
 won't hinder us." 
 
 " Does he want to go away ? " 
 
 " I reckon he does," said Dalbert. " He said some- 
 thing of the sort to-day." 
 
 Again there came to Naomi a feeling of chill. She 
 had noticed in Marshall Lane no signs of haste. If he 
 were anxious to be gone he had not betrayed the feeling 
 to her. 
 
 Dalbert made no arrangements about the machinery 
 that night. He was asleep when Marshall Lane came 
 in. Naomi was not. 
 
 When Will Hollingsworth rode along the " branch " 
 about noon of the following day, he noticed two things : 
 first that something was wrong at the mill, and second 
 that a stranger who was standing by Naomi's side had 
 just taken a bucket from the girl's hand and was stoop- 
 ing to dip it into the stream. He filled it to overflowing, 
 
226 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 and lifted it brimming from the bed of the " branch." 
 As he turned to carry it indoors, their eyes met, the 
 blue ones and the dark ones. Just what those eyes said 
 to each other, Will did not know ; but he did know that 
 of the two unusual circumstances, the stationary condi- 
 tion of the machinery and the advent of a stranger, he 
 was inclined to investigate the latter first. He rode up 
 to the door as the summons for dinner was given. 
 
 " I'm in luck ! Naomi, keep guard over that seat of 
 mine. I'm here to take possession of it." 
 
 He was still on his horse's back, but he had bent 
 down to look in. The girl turned at his words. 
 
 " I'll see that there is a mouthful of something or 
 other left for you to eat," she said carelessly. 
 
 She did not come to the door. She was busy putting 
 dinner on the table. 
 
 When Will drew himself up on the saddle there was 
 a scowl on his face. He turned, and saw Dalbert Mo- 
 zingo, 
 
 "Who's that feller?" 
 
 " Which ? " 
 
 " The feller in there with your sister." 
 
 " Oh ! Marshall Lane. We've had a break in the 
 machinery. He's putting it right." 
 
 " In there ? " 
 
 "No." Dalbert looked into the mill owner's face, 
 and a smile played for a moment over his own. 
 
 " It's noon," he continued. " We've left off for din- 
 ner." 
 
 " Does he eat here ? " 
 
 "Yes with the rest." 
 
 Will sprang from his horse. 
 
 "I'm going to see after this beast," he said. "I'll 
 be in directly. When are you aimin' to get the mill 
 running again ? " 
 
 " To-morrow," replied Dalbert. " It was running yes- 
 terday." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 227 
 
 Will made no answer. He was leading his horse 
 away. Dalbert went into the house with a smile on his 
 face. 
 
 There was a noticeable absence of smiles on Will 
 Hollingsworth's face. He ate his dinner and took obser- 
 vations. Then he went to the mill. 
 
 It would have suited the present mood of the mill 
 owner better if he could have found something to grum- 
 ble at. His feelings were not amiable. But beyond 
 the breakdown of the machinery, which could by no 
 possibility be laid to the account of the superintendent, 
 there was more to commend than to criticise. He exam- 
 ined the damaged parts, stood for a few minutes watching 
 Marshall Lane without speaking, and then followed Dal- 
 bert out of the mill. 
 
 " How did that feller come here ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Walked, as fur as I know," replied Dal. " Heard 
 we'd had a breakdown." 
 
 "Who told him?" snapped Will. "And who asked 
 him to stick hims&i into the mess ? He's plumb full of 
 conceit. Who is he, anyhow ? " 
 
 "A powerful useful feller," answered Dal quickly. 
 "He's been about the country pretty much, so he says. 
 He seems to understand his business." 
 
 " Understand ! How do you know what he under- 
 stands ? " demanded the mill owner. " What do you 
 know about it ? If you'd understood what was the 
 matter, you could have set it right. You don't know 
 whether or not he's fooling you, and more don't I. I 
 ain't so powerful struck with him as the rest of you seem 
 to be." 
 
 "Tell him to leave things alone then," replied Dal- 
 bert coolly. " You can get somebody from one of the 
 cities to come and look at the break." 
 
 The mill owner's answer was not polite. He turned 
 his back on his superintendent and strode off down the 
 stream. Dalbert went back into the mill. 
 
228 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Wherever Will Hollingsworth spent that afternoon, 
 it was not in the vicinity of his own premises. It may 
 be inferred that he found his occupation satisfactory, 
 since it materially improved his temper. He came back 
 to the boarding-house an hour before supper time, whist- 
 ling cheerily. 
 
 " Hullo, Naomi ! Want ary help about fetching 
 water, or such like ? " 
 
 He had a smile and a keen glance for the girl who 
 sat on the doorstep gazing into the strip of blue sky in 
 which the opposite hill seemed to be trying to bury its 
 head. The dark eyes were incomprehensible this after- 
 noon. Will was none the wiser for his scrutiny. 
 
 " I'm not plumb sure there's ary thing for you to 
 turn your hand to," she said. " Have you been idle so 
 long that you're suffering for want of occupation ? " 
 
 " Yes, occupation of the right sort, and for the right 
 person," he said, standing close to her and looking 
 down upon the dark, shapely head. " Got all you wanted 
 done this morning, didn't you ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the girl, raising her eyes to his. " I'm 
 not in the habit of making my work last till ni-ight." 
 
 She let her eyes drop slowly to the waters of the 
 " branch." As for his, they never moved. 
 
 " Had a mighty willing assistant when I came along 
 at noon, hadn't you ? " 
 
 She lifted her eyes again, swept them over the face 
 and figure before her, and returned them to their quiet 
 survey of the stream. 
 
 " I ain't powerful fond of having assistants that are 
 not willing," she said. 
 
 "And you ain't powerful likely to find them," he 
 laughed. " As for that whipper-snapper feller, I reckon 
 you know plumb all about hi-im, and don't need me to 
 tell you. If it warn't so, I could pitch into a story that's 
 clear aout of the common order." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 229 
 
 " Have you been for two weeks outside of Big Creek 
 Gap, and found nothing better to tell than the gossip of 
 this little place ? " asked Naomi coolly. " Will Hollings- 
 worth must have plumb wasted his time." 
 
 " Oh, my experiences will save," he responded. " I 
 ain't expecting to have ary to match those of Marshall 
 Lane Rutherford." 
 
 He was watching her face. It was distinctly unin- 
 terested. 
 
 " Marshall Lane didn't tell you he'd got another inch 
 or so to his name, did he ? " he continued. 
 
 The dark eyes scanned him critically. 
 
 " Do you mean the young man who has come to mend 
 your machinery ? " 
 
 " I reckon," replied the mill owner. 
 
 "An inch more or less was of little moment," she 
 answered coldly. "He gave enough to distinguish him 
 by." 
 
 "Did he? That's the question," laughed Will. "I 
 venture to say he'd be better distinguished by the whole 
 than by the part. Left out the best end." 
 
 "Possibly," she said. "If the best end of a man's 
 name is like his character, it's seldom at the front." 
 
 " Better tell Marshall Lane Rutherford that," he said. 
 " Nice honest sort of feller, ain't he ? " 
 
 "I'm not presuming to decide that question," she 
 responded. "Honesty is scarce even among one's 
 friends. It would be wiser to go and make his acquaint- 
 ance, and judge for yourself. If he cheats you-u, it will 
 be your own fault." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know that I'm afraid he should cheat 
 me" he replied, with a chuckle. " The danger don't lie 
 in that direction. He's aimin' higher than me-e." 
 
 She settled herself in a more comfortable position, 
 and let the subject drop. Will found the outcome of 
 his efforts unsatisfactory. He returned to the attack. 
 
230 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Keeps his affairs pretty close, don't he ? " 
 
 "We-el," replied the girl, with an air of reflection, 
 " it depends on what you call close. Perhaps he does. 
 He has never told me exactly how much money he pos- 
 sesses, nor explained explicitly his plans for the future, 
 nor even opened his mind on other subjects, such as 
 his opinion of the men he meets here in the village. On 
 second thoughts he is a little wanting in frankness. 
 Now I think of it, he has never picked another man's 
 character to shreds once ; and of course by such abstain- 
 ing he has refrained from showing his own. Depend 
 upon it, you're right. He's close, powerful close." 
 
 She looked at the mill owner quizzically, and relapsed 
 into silence. 
 
 For a moment the smile left his face, and the first 
 beginning of a scowl appeared. It never got further 
 than a beginning. 
 
 " I dare swear there's other things he's been slow to 
 take you into his confidence about," he said, with a 
 smile. " Has he ever chanced to take you down to his 
 uncle's place, the big house in the hollow ? " 
 
 If his aim had been the raising of those great dark 
 eyes again, he accomplished it. They lifted slowly to 
 his face. 
 
 " His uncle's house ? " 
 
 Her voice was well under control. It expressed 
 nothing but cool surprise. 
 
 " Yes, his uncle's, old Kennedy Poteet's. Marshall 
 Lane Rutherford is old Ken's favourite nephew. He 
 ought to do the honours. If it ain't his now, it may be 
 some day. He got plenty of the old man's money, if he 
 didn't get the house." 
 
 " Are you telling me the truth ? " 
 
 The question did not imply an overwhelming amount 
 of confidence on the part of the speaker. Naomi asked 
 it quietly. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 231 
 
 The mill owner passed over the implied suspicion 
 silently. 
 
 " It's just as I heard it," he said. " Nobody knew 
 him when he first came back. He'd altered since he 
 was a boy." 
 
 She looked at him steadily for a full minute without 
 speaking. Then she rose from her low seat on the 
 step. 
 
 "He will have finished your machinery to-night," she 
 said. "After that he can find accommodation in the 
 village." 
 
 She turned, and went into the house. In the doorway 
 she stopped. 
 
 "The fire must be tolerable near dead," she said. 
 " I wish you'd bring me an armful of wood." 
 
 " Powerful cool ! " muttered Will Hollingsworth, as he 
 selected the sticks from the pile. " But that's an end 
 of hi-imr 
 
 "He was an impudent rascal to push himself in here. 
 I had my doubts as soon as I set eyes on him." 
 
 The mill owner deposited his wood on the floor with a 
 crash, and straightened himself to look at the girl. She 
 made him no answer. 
 
 " Ever let him know your feeling towards the Poteet 
 family?" 
 
 She looked at him with a quick flash in her eyes. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Will chuckled. 
 
 " Didn't agree with you, I reckon." 
 
 " No." 
 
 A scornful smile crossed her lips. 
 
 " Not altogether likely that he would," she added, a 
 moment later. " Well he's done his work, and that's 
 an end of him." 
 
 " Only there's two instead of one to bear old Ken's 
 sins now," said the mill owner ; " and you've got two on 
 
232 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 whom to visit justice. He's in the same list with Ab 
 Poteet." 
 
 The words had the sound of a challenge. 
 
 For barely a moment the girl hesitated. Then she 
 lifted her head and looked him squarely in the face. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "he's in the same list." 
 
 When the men came in to tea that night Marshall 
 Lane was not with them. It would require another 
 hour's work to put the machinery in running order. He 
 had decided to stay and finish. 
 
 " I told him I'd see you kept his supper for him," said 
 Dalbert, with a quiet smile at his sister. 
 
 " It's powerful dangerous to make promises for ary 
 person but yourself," said Naomi, in a tone he did not 
 quite understand. 
 
 He looked from her to the mill owner, and then began 
 talking about the machinery. He kept up the talk till 
 supper was over. 
 
 " Shall I tell Marshall to come in for his supper when 
 he's finished?" 
 
 Dal had followed his sister into the kitchen. 
 
 "No." 
 
 He looked at her inquiringly. 
 
 What's up ? " he asked. 
 
 "The nephew of Kennedy Poteet may go hungry, 
 but he can't eat in thi-is house," she said. 
 
 " Nonsense ! He's eat here times enough before. 
 He's no worse to-day than he was yesterday." 
 
 She turned on him sharply. 
 
 " Did you know he was Kennedy Poteet's nephew ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 The look she gave him was full comment. 
 
 " How long have you known ? " she asked. 
 
 " Since yesterday." 
 
 " Who told you ? " 
 
 " He did," replied Dalbert. " He'd have told you, 
 he wanted to tell you. You'd better let him explain." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 233 
 
 " He's had plenty of chance," she said. " But there 
 is nothing to explain, except how he dared to come here. 
 He is the nephew of my father's murderer. That needs 
 no explanation." 
 
 " And you won't give him his supper ? " 
 
 No." 
 
 Dal went out, and slammed the door behind him. 
 Will looked in a few minutes later and was politely as- 
 sured that the air outside was cooler than that within, 
 and that the fewer people there were inside, the better 
 for those who must remain. He went out. 
 
 The moon was getting high in the heavens when 
 Marshall Lane Rutherford knocked imperatively at the 
 door of the room which Naomi reserved as her private 
 sitting-room. 
 
 " Miss Mozingo," he said, " I have gathered together 
 my belongings. The work at the mill is finished." 
 
 " If it is satisfactory, Dalbert or Will Hollingsworth 
 will settle with you, I have no doubt," she replied coldly. 
 
 " I reckon. I hain't afraid of the money," he said. 
 " Miss Mozingo, I've come to ask for the fulfilment of 
 your promise. Hit's a pretty night." 
 
 She rose, and came to the door of the room. 
 
 " You dare to ask that ? " she said quietly. 
 
 " Is hit dangerous ? " 
 
 He was smiling, his face on a level with hers. 
 
 " Yes," she replied, in a low, cool tone. 
 
 " Nevertheless, I think you owe hit to me," he said. 
 
 " Owe it to you, to you ! " 
 
 "Certainly," he insisted. "Last night you gave me 
 your side of the argument. To-night I want to give 
 you mine. Nary one sided case can be just." 
 
 " It is not for kin of Kennedy Poteet to call for jus- 
 tice," she said. "The justice might come." 
 
 He looked at her regretfully. 
 
 "I'm powerful sorry somebody has been ahead of 
 
234 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 me," he said. " I wanted to tell you myself and take 
 the consequences." 
 
 "The consequences are not likely to escape you," she 
 replied. 
 
 "No I see that. Miss Mozingo, won't you let me 
 plead my cause ? " 
 
 " You have no cause to plead," she said coldly. 
 "Kennedy Poteet was a thief and a murderer. His 
 nephew can hardly lay claim to being an honest man." 
 
 He looked at her for a moment in silence, then drew 
 himself up proudly. 
 
 " I understand you," he said. " You would accuse 
 me of stealing into your house unannounced. I plead 
 guilty, if hit is guilty to come and investigate for my- 
 self. You set yourself to ruin an innocent man, yes, 
 an innocent man ; for, if ever thar was an innocent man, 
 hit's Abner Poteet. I had not been in the neigh- 
 bourhood since I was a boy. I heard the story by acci- 
 dent, came back before ary one in the valley knew me, 
 and learned that the machinery at the mill had broken 
 down. I came to see for myself, the machinery and 
 the enemy. Miss Mozingo, before I had been in this 
 house twenty-four hours, I changed my mind abaout the 
 character of the enemy as fully as you would change 
 yours abaout Abner Poteet, if you would let yourself 
 know the man as I learned to know the woman." 
 
 His voice dropped a little at the last words. He was 
 watching her face. It was hard and cold, with that par- 
 adoxical coldness that suggests hidden fire. There was 
 only a momentary pause, but after it his tone changed 
 slightly, but perceptibly. It was a little less urgent, had 
 lost a tinge of gentleness. 
 
 " Miss Mozingo, I have failed," he said. " I hoped to 
 convince you that evil was not the only characteristic 
 of those who, willingly or unwillingly, were related to 
 the old man." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 235 
 
 His eyes caught a gleam in hers, and he stopped. 
 
 " Yes, you have failed," she said ; and he noticed that 
 the lips took a scornful curve. 
 
 " I know hit," he replied. " You think hit was what 
 I might have expected. Well, I judged otherwise. I 
 hoped to persuade you yet to do justice to the old 
 man's son. I confess for I may as well make a clean 
 breast of hit to a still more daring desire, the wish 
 to see the noblest side of a nature that could be noble 
 git a mastery over the ignoble side, the passion for cruel 
 vengeance. I've failed. I'm ready to take the conse- 
 quences. I cain't help being my uncle's nephew. I 
 would not, if I could, help being Abner's cousin. I only 
 wish I was as fine a feller as he is. You can think of 
 us as one. I'm plumb sure you'll be willing to." 
 
 Marshall Lane's head was held a little higher than 
 usual at the last words. He looked the girl in the face 
 with a glance that was little suggestive of overwhelming 
 shame. And as he looked, he saw the colour sweep for 
 a moment over cheek and brow, and then recede. 
 
 " I'm going to stay with Ab for a time," he said. 
 
 She did not answer, and he turned away. 
 
 "Good-night." 
 
 He had stopped a step from the door to fling back 
 the word, with a smile. 
 
 " Good-night." 
 
 The answer was grave and low. It told him nothing. 
 
 He heard her door close behind him as he went out 
 into the moonlight. 
 
236 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE night on which Marshall Lane Rutherford 
 turned his back on the house beneath the hill 
 was as " pretty " as the preceding one had been. 
 The moonlight was as clear, and the air as soft. Both 
 made their way in at the window of a room where a girl 
 stood looking out into the brightness, and feeling more 
 in keeping with storm and darkness than with the soft 
 splendour that flooded the world and made the beautiful, 
 scornful face clearly visible. 
 
 For it was full of scorn, scorn of herself and of 
 another. Why should the "prettiness" of the night 
 mock her with the thought that but for Will Hollings- 
 worth's discovery she would now have been following 
 the rocky road with Marshall Lane by her side ? She 
 turned from the suggestion with a curl of the lip, an 
 added scorn of herself. What should she be doing on 
 that path with Kennedy Poteet's nephew for a com- 
 panion ? 
 
 The knowledge of the relationship had come upon 
 Naomi with a shock. Marshall Lane's departure left 
 her angry and disturbed. Indignation that the nephew 
 of her father's murderer should dare to set foot inside 
 her door divided her feeling with outraged pride that 
 demanded to know by what right Marshall Lane had 
 presumed to argue with her as if there were justice in 
 his cause. He had hoped to alter the situation ! How 
 dare he think that his coming could make any differ- 
 ence? 
 
 And yet it Itad made a difference ; it did make a 
 difference. Naomi was not a girl to cheat herself with 
 
VISITING THE SIN 237 
 
 a garbled report of her own feelings. She spared her- 
 self no scorn. Marshall Lane had said that he had 
 failed. If that had been an unmodified truth, the girl 
 would not have stood with the angry bitterness in her 
 heart, looking with darkening eyes into the moonlight. 
 How dare he put her in this difficulty ? For Naomi 
 acknowledged that in her own mind the situation was 
 changed. The way, which before had been clear, had 
 suddenly grown difficult. It had been easy to think of 
 the innkeeper's son as one who by character and inheri- 
 tance was outside the pale of her sympathy, one with 
 whom justice, and not brotherly kindness, should be 
 called to deal. Her arguments had been strong. She 
 had convinced herself with them. And she had included 
 in her condemnation all who were kin to the old man, 
 though she had known of none but Abner. She remem- 
 bered how positively she had declared to Marshall Lane 
 that she made no distinction. Well, it was true. She 
 had made none ; she could make none. But the sweep- 
 ing assertions of the preceding night stood out in a 
 very different light now that she found herself forced to 
 apply them to Marshall Lane. She felt a wave of colour 
 rush to her forehead as she recalled her own words. 
 
 Not that justice had shifted ground. The facts 
 remained as before Marshall Lane Rutherford appeared 
 on the scene. Only between herself and the vengeance 
 she had desired to see fall upon the house of Poteet 
 there had come the vision of a pair of blue eyes. It was 
 easy to think of Abner Poteet in the light in which she 
 had accustomed herself to think of him. It was not 
 easy to think of Marshall Lane in the same light. Yet 
 she could not apply one set of rules to the son and 
 another to the nephew. Both were inheritors of the old 
 man's wealth, the richer for his sins. On both the 
 shadow of the crime fell. There was no difference, 
 except that the relationship was nearer in the one case 
 
238 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 than in the other. Consistency called for the including 
 of the son and nephew in the same category. "He's in 
 the same list with Ab Poteet," Will Hollingsworth had 
 said. She could no more deny it now than when the 
 words were thrown out as a challenge. Marshall him- 
 self had acknowledged it. "You can think of us as 
 one," he had said ; and she had not contradicted him. 
 Consistency demanded that she should think of them as 
 one. It increased her contempt of herself that she was 
 not ready to meet consistency with open arms. 
 
 The moonbeams had grown pale and the world shad- 
 owy before the tall, still figure by the window gave sign 
 of movement. Consistency had won, as the girl had 
 known from the beginning it must win ; and Naomi sud- 
 denly became conscious that limbs and brain were weary. 
 Perhaps the thought of Will Hollingsworth, and the 
 impossibility of receding from the position she had 
 taken, had had something to do with the strengthening 
 of the calls of justice. Perhaps the going forward pre- 
 sented less difficulty than the going back. 
 
 When Will Hollingsworth saw Naomi again, she met 
 him with a smile. 
 
 " We-el," she said, with a scornful drawl, "my boarder 
 is gone ; and our task has grown a smart sight harder. 
 Marshall Lane Rutherford will not take the place his 
 uncle has earned for him without a ///-tie struggle." 
 
 " He'll take it, though," replied Will, with a scowl. 
 
 Yes he'll ta-ake it," she said, looking straight into 
 his eyes. 
 
 Will Hollingsworth understood that consistency had 
 won. He understood a little more, and that extra piece 
 of intuition put into the struggle a personal element that 
 had been lacking before. Up to the present moment 
 he had been labouring in Naomi's cause. The cause 
 had suddenly become his own. In seeking to bring 
 vengeance on Abner Poteet he had been pursuing the 
 
VISITING THE SIN 239 
 
 man who to Naomi represented her father's murderer, 
 in turning his weapons against Marshall Lane Ruther- 
 ford he was pursuing a man who stood as a possible 
 rival to himself. The pursuit had gained in excitement. 
 
 Will had from the first been guided by his anxiety to 
 please Naomi. It had suited his purpose to carry out 
 her wishes. Now his own wishes had become engaged. 
 From following the dictates of a sagacious policy he 
 turned to the more engrossing pursuit of fulfilling the 
 desires of his own heart. There was a difference. 
 
 In the next few weeks a sharp division of feeling 
 manifested itself in Big Creek Gap. Will was not often 
 at home in the evenings now. The village saw more of 
 the mill owner than it had ever done before. The 
 creation of a wave of popular sentiment in a small com- 
 munity differs little in character from the earliest begin- 
 nings of those popular movements that work in a more 
 extended field. The public press is wanting in the first 
 case ; but there is always the same impressionable human 
 nature to operate upon, the same subtle working of 
 many and often dissimilar forces, that, set in motion 
 from different points and from different motives, com- 
 bine to produce the final result. Much depends in every 
 case on the perseverance and powers of resource of the 
 leader. Will Hollingsworth was an indefatigable worker, 
 not easily daunted, one, moreover, who knew how to 
 change his tactics with every change of hearer. He 
 had decided that Big Creek Gap should become an 
 undesirable place of residence for Marshall Rutherford. 
 Much of the work had been already accomplished. When 
 Marshall Lane Rutherford came to Big Creek Gap, the 
 friends of Abner Poteet were in a constantly diminishing 
 minority. The first result of his appearance was a 
 revival of the courage of those who had not yet gone 
 over to the majority, and a tendency among the weaker 
 members of the opposite party to adopt a policy of neu- 
 
240 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 trality. The return of Will Hollingsworth, and the 
 vigour of the campaign at once established, sent the tide 
 rolling back with increased energy. 
 
 If Marshall Rutherford had known the real state of 
 public opinion, it is possible that he would never have 
 come to Big Creek Gap ; but, being there, he stayed. He 
 did more. He made up his mind that the current of 
 feeling should be changed. With the image of a proud, 
 cold face before him, and a fair amount of honest anger 
 stirring in his heart, he bent himself to the undoing of a 
 girl's work. The trial of strength between him and this 
 girl was not altogether distasteful. Marshall Lane 
 Rutherford was not accustomed to scorn, and Naomi's 
 words had been proud. The blue eyes flashed more 
 than once as he recalled those words, but the lips never 
 lost their confident smile. 
 
 With a quiet energy altogether unlike Will Hollings- 
 worth's aggressive tactics, he set himself to counteract 
 the influences at work, fully understanding that the task 
 would neither be short nor easy. He entered the con- 
 test deliberately and of set purpose, realising the strength 
 of the adversary. The verdict of Big Creek Gap was 
 the stake for which both sides were playing, and the 
 enemy had the advantage. Marshall Rutherford pro- 
 posed to turn the tables. 
 
 " We shall win yet, Ab, my boy," he said ; but the 
 tone was not without a trace of bitterness. 
 
 Underneath the words, and the resolution they em- 
 bodied, there was a little soreness of heart at the memory 
 of a shapely head and a pair of scornful eyes, and the 
 knowledge that the girl to whom both belonged was the 
 leader of the opposing forces. 
 
 Ab shook his head. 
 
 " I hain't expectin' to win," he said. " You may. 
 You hain't his son. The sins o* the fathers don't reach 
 you, maybe." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 241 
 
 " I hope not," said Marshall. " I've got enough to 
 do to answer for my own. I hain't like you, Ab. If 
 you hadn't nary other person's sins on your shoulders, 
 you'd go plumb free." 
 
 Ab shook his head again, disapprovingly. 
 
 " You hain't realism'," he said. " Thar's a powerful 
 sight of evil in sin." 
 
 Two or three times during the next month Naomi 
 met Marshall Lane Rutherford face to face. On the 
 first occasion a smile accompanied his "good-evening." 
 It was hard to believe that between himself and this 
 girl there was to be unrelenting enmity. At no future 
 meeting was the smile in evidence. Naomi told herself 
 she was glad that opportunity had occurred for her to 
 make clear to Marshall Lane Rutherford the relation 
 that existed between them. Then she took herself to 
 task for the nature of the gladness, and held her head a 
 little higher for the rest of the day, in proud scorn, 
 whether of herself or another did not appear. 
 
 After two or three such encounters, however, the 
 disturbing cause ceased. In her journeys to and from 
 the village she no longer met Marshall Rutherford. 
 
 She did not ask why. The name of the young ma- 
 chinist was seldom mentioned by her. Will Hollings- 
 worth could have enlightened her, had he chosen. But 
 he did not choose. He had gained a little personal 
 knowledge of Kennedy Poteet's nephew in the month 
 that had passed since his own return to Big Creek Gap. 
 The knowledge had not made him the readier to accord 
 to the young man a fair field in the winning of Naomi 
 Mozingo. Will was clear sighted where Naomi was con- 
 cerned. He did not need to be told that the increased 
 vigour with which party feeling in the valley was pro- 
 moted was more in keeping with the girl's principles 
 than with her feelings. She showed no sign of holding 
 back ; and there was a certain proud triumph when she 
 
242 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 saw that in spite of Marshall Rutherford's appearance 
 upon the scene, public opinion was stronger on her side 
 than it had ever been before. But Will was not de- 
 ceived into believing that she regarded Abner Poteet 
 and Marshall Rutherford in the same light, though she 
 put them in the same category. 
 
 The knowledge he had gained of Marshall himself 
 showed the young man as no insignificant rival. He 
 was not sure that in the matter of wealth Marshall 
 Rutherford was not his superior. For personal charac- 
 teristics, well, he sneered at Marshall Lane Ruther- 
 ford, and never lost an opportunity to place him in an 
 unpleasant light ; but he was far from despising him. It 
 was not strange, therefore, that he was in no haste to 
 inform Naomi that sickness was the cause of the young 
 man's absence from road and field. Sympathy was the 
 last feeling he desired to invoke for his rival. 
 
 For the time being Marshall Rutherford had cast in 
 his lot with his cousin. Abner 's crops never looked 
 better than they did this year, when Marshall's lithe 
 form might any day be seen in the fields between Ab- 
 ner' s cabin and John Kisselbaugh's farm. The weeds 
 had an energetic enemy, and succumbed without a strug- 
 gle. There came a change, however, when the hand 
 that had manipulated the hoe suddenly lost its strength. 
 
 At first Marshall made light of his illness, laughing 
 at Abner when he talked of a doctor. But when his 
 words began to mix themselves in strange fashion, and 
 the blue eyes were either unaccountably heavy or dan- 
 gerously bright, Ab took matters into his own hands, 
 and went for the disciple of medicine. 
 
 Now it chanced that the doctor was a man well 
 weighted with years, and over-fond of the good things 
 of life. There were days when it was wisest for pa- 
 tients not to summon him in a hurry. Unfortunate 
 men, the exigencies of whose cases required haste, were 
 
VISITING THE SIN 243 
 
 on such occasions conscious of a lamentable shakiness 
 about the fingers that encircled their wrists, and potions 
 that should have been measured by drops fell into the 
 glass in trickling streams. If the patient were wise, he 
 used his own discretion about trusting too implicitly to 
 those potions. If his disease were of such a nature as 
 to impair his wisdom, he drank, and took the conse- 
 quences. 
 
 When Abner sought the services of this veteran in 
 the art of healing or otherwise he was just emerg- 
 ing from a four days' seclusion. He came, viewed the 
 patient, shook his head, which was shaky enough to 
 begin with, and looked ominously grave. 
 
 " A severe case of fever," he said. " He'll want a 
 smart sight of care, and he hain't goin' to be on his feet 
 agin in a hurry." 
 
 Marshall did not want for the care, though Abner 
 called on none to help him. His old neighbour, who 
 had shown friendliness when the cow was " spelt," was 
 crippled with rheumatism, and could barely hobble across 
 her own floor, or she would doubtless have proved use- 
 ful. As it was, Abner troubled neither friend nor foe. 
 He left the fields to look after themselves, and devoted 
 his attention to his cousin. 
 
 The big, gentle fellow made a laboriously careful 
 nurse, taking in all seriousness every head-shake of the 
 doctor, and carrying out directions with a precision 
 founded upon the belief that half an hour's mistake in 
 the administering of a powder might turn the scale 
 against his patient. 
 
 There was an excuse for his anxiety. The blue eyes 
 that stared up at him had an unsettling tendency. The 
 Southern belief that the spirit might wander while the 
 body was yet instinct with life did not seem hard to be- 
 lieve with those uncomprehending eyes fixed on his face. 
 In one of those wanderings of spirit the intelligent 
 
244 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 agent might neglect to return. It would not be because 
 the body to which it belonged lacked aught that Abner 
 could do for it. He watched day and night, with but 
 the briefest snatches of rest. 
 
 To Abner the nights were longer than the days ; for 
 then, while his patient slept restlessly, or roused himself 
 to give utterance to strange, wild words, little calculated 
 to reassure the watcher, the hosts of darkness seemed 
 palpably to press around the little log cabin. To Abner 
 it seemed that they watched for his soul and for that of 
 the sick man. More than ever, during these later 
 months, had he realised that he was under the curse of 
 his father's sins. The sickness that had come upon 
 Marshall made him fear lest the curse should not be 
 limited to himself. 
 
 That curse was ever present to his mind. The ver- 
 dict of his neighbours at Big Creek Gap seemed but the 
 drawing closer round him of the retribution which was 
 destined to pour itself out upon his head. Throughout 
 his whole life one terrible scene, indelibly printed on 
 heart and brain, had remained in the foreground of his 
 consciousness. Resting there unexplained, it had pro- 
 duced a result inevitable in the presence of a hopeless, 
 pressing evil, that was as impossible of removal as his 
 own life, a part of himself, since it was the act of his 
 father, and had come to be regarded as a piece of his 
 own existence, yet abhorrent, loathsome, hellish. It 
 never occurred to Abner to repudiate it as a deed that 
 belonged to his father and was in no degree his. Left 
 to produce its natural effect, it had worked itself into his 
 life in those early days when the spirit was susceptible 
 of impression, and had produced an exquisite pain, that 
 responded to the slightest touch. That scene had 
 shaped Abner' s life and character. It had produced a 
 man more fully alive to one set of influences than to all 
 the world besides. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 245 
 
 Cast in a deeply religious mould, the mind of Abner 
 Poteet had grasped the terrors of the law in connection 
 with this sin, which, originally that of his father, was in 
 some strange way a part of himself. A more egotistical 
 character would have grown rebellious under the hope- 
 lessness of inherited guilt. Abner neither questioned 
 nor struggled, but accepted, as he accepted many an- 
 other belief that had less foundation in fact than had 
 this strangely garbled presentation of a great truth. 
 The belief that the sins of his father rested upon himself 
 had gone on working, robbing the boy's heart of its 
 lightness, and making the man one set apart from his 
 fellows. 
 
 In very truth, the sins of Kennedy Poteet had from 
 the first rested upon his son. From the day when the 
 scene of violence made its indelible impression upon the 
 boy, the " visiting " had been going on. Pressing down 
 upon him, so that the terrors of the unknown took deep 
 hold on his nature, this natural consequence of his fa- 
 ther's sin, while it weakened in one direction his power of 
 resistance, and left him a prey to fears as unfounded as 
 they were real to himself, worked in yet another fashion, 
 strengthening and purifying and ennobling. Petty pride, 
 weak self-indulgence, the greed that clutches at the 
 good of life and holds it for self away from other men, 
 were burned out by the fires of that retribution that 
 was, in all truth, " the visiting of the sins of the fathers 
 upon the children." Not in the light sense in which he 
 threw out the words, but with a fuller significance than 
 Marshall Rutherford realised, it was true that Abner 
 had fewer sins of his own to meet than grow out of the 
 lives of most men ; and they were fewer because he had 
 so long borne the sins of his father. The simple nobil- 
 ity and unselfishness of the man's character were results 
 of the " visiting " that he could not be expected to see, 
 and that those who knew him well accepted without 
 
246 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 questioning, as " Ab's way." And so the great, noble, 
 unselfish heart, and the over-developed conscience, strug- 
 gled on together, and to Abner the retribution that Big 
 Creek Gap dealt out was but a part of that to which he 
 felt himself devoted. 
 
 One haven of rest was left him in the long night 
 watches, when the powers of darkness were more real 
 than aught besides. It was found in the thought that 
 no breath of harm, no personal knowledge of the inn- 
 keeper's sins and their consequences, could come upon 
 Norah Felps. He had not seen her since the day he 
 left her standing in the cave, and turned to face the 
 world without the hope that had brightened it. Men 
 could never say again that Norah craved Kennedy Po- 
 teet's money, the money that was accursed. He had 
 abstained from going near the house. If there were dis- 
 grace in associating with Kennedy Poteet's son, that 
 disgrace should not touch her. He was jealous for her 
 honour. It should never be stained by contact with 
 him. 
 
 Marshall Lane Rutherford had not been as scrupu- 
 lous. He and the girl were on friendly terms. But 
 Marshall was not Abner : he was not the son of the inn- 
 keeper. 
 
 The thought of Norah Felps came to Abner in those 
 hours of night like the presence of an angel. He was 
 in sore need of it. For to his impressionable nature, at 
 such times the powers of darkness joined with the pow- 
 ers that were seen, and hell as well as earth was ranged 
 against him. It would not have surprised him had the 
 captain of the hosts of evil claimed him audibly as his 
 prey. The scenes of the past lived again during the 
 hours when the world slept, and Marshall tossed and 
 moaned, and roused himself now and again to ask some 
 wild, incoherent question. The blood that he had seen 
 shed seemed to Abner to cry out against his father and 
 
VISITING THE SIN 247 
 
 himself. The horror of a night long buried in the past 
 stood forth as justification of all the penalty that earth 
 or heaven or hell could exact. There were those who 
 declared that Kennedy Poteet's victims had been many. 
 Abner did not question the truth of their words on these 
 nights, though there had been days when he had dared 
 to hope that the accusations were unfounded. He mul- 
 tiplied the horror indefinitely. Round him in the night 
 watches gathered ghostly forms, clamouring for ven- 
 geance. He made no effort to escape them. Why 
 should he ? Where was the line that could fathom the 
 depth of curse that rested on the son of the murderer 
 many times over ? 
 
 And then his thoughts would pass with pitying tender- 
 ness to the old man himself, till great drops of perspira- 
 tion stood out on his face, and the hands that tended his 
 cousin were clammy. For he had loved the old man 
 who had gone to meet the reward of his sins. 
 
 It was little wonder that Abner' s face grew haggard 
 as the days and nights passed, and that he became more 
 than ever a prey to dreams of evil, less able to judge 
 between reality and an excited imagination. His cousin, 
 too, gave him cause for uneasiness. Abner could not 
 fail to see that he was not progressing favourably. 
 
 " He hain't improvin' none," said the doctor gloomily. 
 " I won't answer for hit that hit hain't goin' to turn aout 
 more 'n a common case of fever. Better take powerful 
 good care of him, Ab, if you don't want the trouble of 
 bury in' him. I hain't goin' to be responsible for no 
 neglect. He's got to have them powders and drops 
 reg'lar every hour." 
 
 It was when the doctor had taken his departure, leav- 
 ing a deepened gloom behind him, that Norah Felps 
 made her appearance. Abner saw her from the window, 
 and his heart gave a great throb of joy. He was at the 
 door before she reached it. 
 
248 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " You hain't comin' in," he said, a tender smile light- 
 ing up the face that was growing worn with watching. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " replied the girl, with a laugh and a toss 
 of her head. " I hain't aimin' to go back without. I 
 shain't hurt him." 
 
 " I hain't fearin' for hi-im. Hit's you I'm thinkin' 
 abaout," said Abner, with an intonation in his voice that 
 was not wasted on the girl. 
 
 " What harm will he do me ? " she asked lightly. "I'm 
 comin' in to see if the doctor hain't made more 'n half 
 his head shakes out of his own feelin's. He come close 
 to shakin' his head off when mammy asked him how 
 Marshall was. We didn't know he was as powerful bad 
 till to-day. Mammy's comin' to set up with him to- 
 night." 
 
 Ab looked at her for a moment in silence. The heart 
 warmth the offer brought to him meant much in the 
 present crisis. It cheered him none the less that he 
 had no thought of accepting it. 
 
 "No she hain't," he said, after that momentary 
 silence. " I hain't aimin' to hev nobody lueke atter him 
 but me. Doc hain't plumb sure hit is the fever. Hit 
 might be ketchin'." 
 
 " If hit is, we hain't aimin' to ketch hit," she said. 
 
 "And I hain't aimin' to let ye," he replied, with the 
 same light in his eyes that had shone there when he 
 greeted her. 
 
 In the end the girl did not go in, and the night found 
 Abner watching alone. Morning demonstrated his wis- 
 dom. The doctor stood long over his patient without 
 speaking. Then he turned suddenly upon Abner. 
 
 " Hit's been a tol'rable smart while showin' hitself," 
 he said. " Thar hain't no doubt abaout hit now. Hit's 
 a good old-fashioned case o' small-pox, and hit hain't tuk 
 him light." 
 
 Even the doctor wondered at the look that came into 
 
VISITING THE SIN 249 
 
 Abner's eyes. He did not know that the man's thought 
 had gone straight to a laughing, queenly face, and that 
 the first tender impulse of his mind took the form of 
 satisfaction that the girl had not been permitted to come 
 into the house. 
 
 Totally oblivious of self, Abner increased his vigilance, 
 refusing to let any one enter the cabin. Norah's mother 
 presented herself at the door, but he bade her go home. 
 
 "Thar hain't no need for more'n one to run into 
 danger," he said. " You've got her to think of as well 
 as yourself." 
 
 " I hain't fearin' for myself, though I hain't never 
 had hit," replied Mrs. Felps ; "and I don't know as I'm 
 fearin' much for her. We don't neither of us ketch 
 things powerful quick. You cain't du everything with- 
 out he'p." 
 
 The bright eyes, so like Norah's that they made the 
 world look homelike while they gazed into his, were 
 scanning Abner's face. 
 
 " Oh, I shall du well enough," he said. 
 
 The little woman shook her head. 
 
 " You hain't lookin' plumb lively," she said. 
 
 "Hit's jist want of sleep. I'm duin' all right," he 
 replied, with a smile. 
 
 She went away unconvinced. 
 
 "If you want he'p, you've only got to say so," she 
 said. " Me and Norah hain't afraid ; and I hain't got no 
 man to make a time over hit, if I du run a leetle risk." 
 
 Abner went back into the house with a warm spot in 
 his heart. He was not going to lei them risk anything 
 for him, but it made everything look different to know 
 that they wanted to do it. 
 
 The night that followed was hot and close. There 
 was thunder in the air. If he had consulted his own 
 wishes, Abner would have shut his windows in spite of 
 the heat. There was comfort for him in the knowledge 
 
250 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 that no ordinary avenue was left open through which the 
 evil from without might easily enter. But his patient 
 tossed restlessly about, and was plainly suffering from 
 the heated condition of the atmosphere. 
 
 Abner went into the outer room, and opened a window 
 wide. Then he returned to Marshall's side, seating him- 
 self between the bed and the open window. 
 
 He was anxious about his cousin. Moreover, he was 
 very tired. For five nights he had slept only in short 
 snatches. The depression of utter weariness was upon 
 him. Every thought was full of sadness, except that 
 which came with the memory of Norah and her mother. 
 He let himself turn again to that brilliantly beautiful 
 face as he saw it when it smiled upon him two mornings 
 ago ; and, thinking of it, his head dropped, and his thoughts 
 took the irresponsible character of dreams. At first it 
 was of Norah he dreamt. Then, with the inconsistency of 
 dreams, the face he loved faded out of the vision, and 
 dark figures took its place. Shadowy forms moved 
 about him, and angry voices clamoured in his ears. 
 They were his neighbours of Big Creek Gap who were 
 condemning him, those who had aforetime been his 
 friends. They were shouting against him, demanding 
 that punishment fall speedily. No, after all, they were 
 not his neighbours. They had changed character. 
 Those forms were not of Big Creek Gap, nor of earth at 
 all. They surged up from the depths, stretching out 
 eager hands, and calling that he belonged to them. He 
 tried to move, to draw himself away from them, and 
 then 
 
 His eyes were wide open. This was not a dream, 
 whatever the rest had been. He put out his hand, and 
 laid it upon the fever-heated one on the bed. That 
 touch assured him the thing was real. The object upon 
 which his eyes were fixed with a horrified stare might 
 have been one of the forms of his dream grown more 
 
VISITING THE SIN 251 
 
 vivid, but that touch told him he no longer slept. Was 
 it an actual visit of the prince of evil, that dark, hideous 
 head, with eyes and breath of fire, that seemed to fill the 
 outer room with its presence ? 
 
 Abner had fallen asleep sitting between the bed and 
 the outer room. The open window was exactly oppo- 
 site. Just within that window, bending forward with a 
 grin of satisfaction that allowed the fiery breath of the 
 apparently Satanic visitant to become plainly visible, 
 was a head thai belonged, surely, to neither man nor 
 beast. Its eyes were pits of fire. Its size was colossal. 
 Its attitude was one of satisfied examination of the 
 premises of which it had taken possession. Coming, as 
 it had seemed to do, out of the confines of his dream, 
 Abner did not doubt that the powers of hell had at last 
 prevailed to claim their own. He was their legitimate 
 prey. He had feared it long. Why should he wonder 
 that they had come for the soul that belonged to them ? 
 
 He tried to remove his eyes from that terrible fiery 
 visitant, but they refused to obey his will. He sat and 
 stared at it with a horror that knew no diminution as 
 the minutes passed. Suddenly, for one brief moment, 
 the room blazed with light, from out of which the fiery 
 eyes burned dully, while the great dim form of the head 
 to which they belonged made a blot in the dazzling 
 brightness. Then the light died, and the eyes kindled 
 afresh. To Abner the thunder that rolled over the 
 house was a voice from the unknown world, telling of 
 doom. 
 
 Was it part of the thunder, that deep voice that took 
 up the sound, sending in a long, low roll through the 
 place the significant word, " Mine ! " 
 
 " I hain't denyin' hit," replied Abner, in a low, awe- 
 struck tone. " I hain't denyin' hit's just. I knowed 
 the visitin' must come. I've been more 'n half expectin' 
 hit would come this away. But I hain't ready to meet 
 hit. I'm a plumb coward ! " 
 
252 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Then, as the figure made a movement towards him, 
 he rose from his seat, took a couple of steps forward, 
 turned, and fled back to the bedside, burying his head 
 in the clothes. 
 
 Once more the air vibrated with sound, a long, vin- 
 dictive hiss, like that of a serpent. It rilled the listener's 
 ears, presently resolving itself into articulate sentences. 
 
 " Mine, body and soul ! I set my seal on this 
 house and every soul found thar. When I come to 
 claim my own, let all be ready." 
 
 When the lightning flashed again, Abner did not see 
 it. With head buried in the bed-clothes he was wres- 
 tling with his supreme fear. After the thunder rolled 
 away the house became very still. He did not know 
 how the minutes passed. He was face to face with the 
 terror that had hung over him so long. With his soul 
 as the prey, he was fighting for strength to pay the full 
 penalty of his father's sins. 
 
 When at last he lifted his head, the light of day was 
 faintly stealing across the room. Weary and stunned, 
 Abner rose, and turned to where the fiery head had 
 been. Its place was vacant. Through the open win- 
 dow came the cool breath of morning. Then, and not 
 till then, did he remember the powders that should have 
 been administered, and the patient whose life, as he 
 believed, depended upon the regularity of their con- 
 sumption. 
 
 A look of self-condemnation came over the weary 
 face. 
 
 " I've plumb forgot him ! And doc sayin' his life 
 depended on his gittin' 'em reg'lar ! " 
 
 With a trembling hand he administered a powder, and 
 stood looking at those that should have been taken 
 during the night. 
 
 " I hain't fit to look atter him," he said reproachfully. 
 "I'm too big a coward. I warn't aimin' to neglect 
 
VISITING THE SIN 253 
 
 him, but I was powerful tuk up with the danger to 
 myself." 
 
 He leant over the bed. To his unpractised eye the 
 patient seemed worse. 
 
 " Thar hain't no knowin' what harm hit's done him," 
 he said. " He'd got to hev 'em reg'lar." 
 
 He gazed regretfully at the un consumed powders. 
 
 " And hit hain't this night only," he continued hope- 
 lessly. "Thar's other nights. Hit may come agin. 
 Hit's tol'rable likely hit will. And I shall forgit agin. 
 I'm too powerful s cart to remember. I hain't wantin' 
 to neglect him, but I'm that plumb full o' fear that I 
 hain't no use. Hit hain't a coward that's fit to look 
 atter hi-im." 
 
 And while Abner reproached himself, and trembled 
 lest in the overpowering nature of his fear he had 
 sacrificed his cousin's last chance of life, a loud, coarse 
 laugh was sounding through the barn where John 
 Kisselbaugh's mules started nervously at the approach 
 of their master. 
 
 "He's been believin' in devils and ha'nts and witches 
 all his life. Hit'd 'a been a plumb pity he shouldn't 
 never see one on 'em." 
 
 The words followed the laugh, and a thud upon the 
 floor followed the words. That which was immediately 
 responsible for the thud was the contact of John Kissel- 
 baugh's foot with an object of sufficiently uncanny 
 appearance, no other than the head of a horse, not yet 
 denuded of hair, but lacking both eyes and more than 
 half the teeth. Just how terrible such an object could 
 appear when lighted from within by two burning candles, 
 one must view it in the darkness of night to imagine. 
 
 John Kisselbaugh gave the head a kick. 
 
 " He'd better 'a kep' his hands offn me" he growled. 
 "If he hain't found that aout yet, he will afore I'm done 
 with him." 
 
254 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 " T TT IT was every soul in the house. The words 
 
 I I was clar." 
 
 JL JL Abner stood looking down upon his cousin. 
 Marshall was no longer conscious of his presence. He 
 was raving wildly. 
 
 There was a new thought working in Abner' s mind, 
 the danger to his cousin arising from contact with 
 himself. 
 
 "Hit's his connection with we-uns," he said sadly. 
 " Hit's the curse. Hit's costin' him his life. I hain't 
 believin' hit will cost him more. I hain't expectiri hit. 
 He hain't his son. Hit hain't likely he'll hev to answer 
 for the sins. But thar's danger. The words was 
 powerful clar." 
 
 The morning was drawing on, and Abner was waiting 
 for the doctor. He was very uneasy about Marshall. 
 His neglect seemed to him to have produced terrible 
 results. And stronger than his fear of those results 
 was the doubt that had arisen by reason of the words 
 uttered by the unearthly night visitant. When he grew 
 calm enough to recall their significance, fear for himself 
 receded into the background. With Abner, danger to 
 another implied forgetf ulness of himself. The voice of 
 the preceding night had made a distinct claim upon every 
 soul in the house. Terror that the curse was about to 
 fall upon his cousin superseded the personal fear that 
 had taken possession of him. 
 
 Abner had no doubt that the voice he had heard be- 
 longed to another world. The superstitions that had 
 been part of his daily nourishment while a child, com- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 255 
 
 bined with the stern doctrines of the religious teaching 
 of his day, made it seem a not impossible thing that the 
 family of a bad man should be doomed to destruction, or 
 that the powers of darkness should make themselves 
 visible, and claim control of a soul upon which a curse 
 had fallen. His idea of the manner in which his father's 
 sins were to be visited upon him had always been vague 
 and shadowy. Whether the curse would exhaust itself 
 in this world, or achieve its fullest significance in the 
 next, he did not know. He feared always hoped 
 sometimes ; but ever, through fear or hope, accepted the 
 consequences of his father's sins unquestioningly. 
 
 But that which he accepted without question for him- 
 self was not to be as readily admitted when applied to 
 his cousin. The visitor of the past night might make 
 any kind of demand upon him. He would neither con- 
 tradict nor resist. But when Marshall was included in 
 that demand Abner's mind was exercised. 
 
 "Hit's his bein' here," he said. "If he'd kep' away, 
 he might 'a been safe." 
 
 The doctor's visit brought no comfort. He looked 
 at the patient despondingly. 
 
 "He's plumb worse," he said. "He hain't goin' on as 
 he should. Thar's too much fever. You hain't been 
 neglect in' them powders, have ye ? " 
 
 " Thar was one time in the night when he didn't git 
 'em powerful reg'lar," confessed Abner. 
 
 "That's hit," growled the doctor angrily. "Thar's 
 always somethin' at the bottom of these relapses. He's 
 tol'rable bad this mornin'. I hain't goin' to answer for 
 the consequences. If he don't git what I leave for him 
 plumb reg'lar, I hain't comin' here at all." 
 
 The big, gentle fellow looked as penitent as a scolded 
 child. When the doctor had gone, he stood over 
 Marshall, gazing down upon him with eyes that were 
 full of trouble. 
 
256 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Hit may happen agin," he said slowly. " I hain't 
 sayin* hit won't. I hain't to be trusted, if hit should 
 appear to-night. I hain't wantin' to neglect him, but I 
 might. An' then thar's the curse. He hain't nothin' to 
 du with hit naow. Hit hain't really restiri on hi-im. 
 He ought er hev a chance." 
 
 The trouble in his eyes grew deeper. He still stood 
 by the bedside. He did not know how long he remained 
 there. He was weighing dangers and possibilities. At 
 last he turned away. 
 
 " I warn't reckonin' to let ary bit of hit come near 
 he-er," he said ; and there was a catch in his voice, sug- 
 gestive of a sob. " Hit hain't right she should suffer 
 and hit hain't right he shouldn't hev a chance," he 
 added sorrowfully. 
 
 If John Kisselbaugh could have seen the figure that 
 went tearing across the fields a few minutes later, it 
 would have done the man's vindictive spirit good. Sor- 
 row and remorse and compelling fear were visible in 
 Abner's face. His pace alone was sufficiently suggestive 
 of danger. In truth, he hardly dared to go at all. He 
 had left his cousin unattended, and he was fearful of the 
 consequences. When Mrs. Felps opened her door in 
 answer to his knock, she started back in alarm. 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! What is hit ? " she asked. " Come 
 right in." 
 
 " No, I dassen't," replied Abner. " I left him alone. 
 I hain't knowin' what to du. I warn't wantin' to ask 
 you to he'p. Hit hain't safe. But he oughter hev a 
 chance, and thar's danger to him whar he is." 
 
 The deep-set, worried eyes looked into the little 
 woman's face. 
 
 " You go right back, Ab Poteet," she said decisively. 
 " I'll come atter ye as quick as I can ; and when I come, 
 I'll du the decidin'. You leave that to me. I'll tell ye 
 what to du." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 257 
 
 Abner did not stop to take breath. He was off again 
 like a shot. 
 
 " Lor ! if he hain't a si-ight," said the little woman, her 
 dark, handsome face expressing nothing but motherly 
 concern. "He hain't got nary thought for himself, 
 settin' up a-nights and runnin' his legs off in the days." 
 
 " You better go and see," rejoined Norah. " We-uns 
 hain't afraid o' small-pox. Thar's things a plumb sight 
 more ketchin' than small-pox, and cowardice is goin' 
 round powerful bad jist naow. I hain't sayin' one hain't 
 pretty much as bad as the other. You go and see, 
 mammy." 
 
 Mrs. Felps went, and Abner met her outside the door. 
 
 "He's sleepin' still," he said. " You hain't comin' in 
 till I've told you. I hain't askin' nothin'. I hain't 
 knowin' what to du. I'd done made up my mind that 
 hit shouldn't never put her in no danger. But thar's 
 him to think of and hit's soul as well as body." 
 
 " You jist tell me all abaout hit, and leave hit for me 
 to decide," said Mrs. Felps. 
 
 Her bright black eyes grew wide with horror before 
 Abner' s story of the preceding night was told. 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! " she said. " I hain't wonderin' you 
 forgot the powders." 
 
 He looked at her sorrowfully. 
 
 " I was plumb tuk up with my own fears," he said. 
 " I might be agin. But that hain't the most danger. 
 Hit's the curse. If hit's comin' on everybody in this 
 house, hit hain't givin' him a fair show. He cain't git 
 himself aout o' the house. But I hain't wantin' to ask 
 you to run into danger. Thar is danger. Hit's power- 
 ful ketchin', and she might ketch hit. I'd done made 
 up my mind thar shouldn't no shadder of harm come 
 near her. But is hit jist right to him ? Hit's his hevin' 
 ary thing to du with me that's puttin' him in the danger. 
 Hit hain't him that's to blame: hit's his bein' here. 
 He's a-comin' in for the curse that's restin' on me." 
 
258 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Abner's face expressed doubt and sorrow and griev- 
 ous disappointment. It was costing him much to open 
 this question which in his mind had been so completely 
 settled. To risk Norah's safety was the biggest sacri- 
 fice he could have made for his cousin. 
 
 The brown face, full of the vigour of health and hope- 
 fulness, wore a thoughtful look. The little woman to 
 whom it belonged was for the moment silent. 
 
 " You hain't no call to feel so ba-ad," she said, after 
 that reflective silence. " He shain't be sacrificed. Hit's 
 a sight how trouble falls on some people. I hain't 
 denyin' thar's all kinds o' spirits abaout and ha'nts ; 
 but, lor ! I don't see why they should set on you-u more 'n 
 ary other. You hain't your pappy ; and you hain't to 
 blame for his doin's, if folks make aout you are." 
 
 Abner shook his head. 
 
 " I hain't expectin' to escape," he said. " But he 
 hain't his son." 
 
 "No, he hain't; and he hain't goin' to surfer," she 
 said decisively. " Hit hain't safe to let him stay here. 
 You go and hitch up the mules, Ab, and we'll take 
 him along to my house. He's got to hev a chance. 
 He's as likely a young feller as ever I see. We-uns are 
 goin' to pull him through, me and Norah. You cain't 
 du no more ; and you hain't fit, if you could." 
 
 " You're very good," he said gratefully ; but his voice 
 was full of regret. " I warn't wantin' hit to be so. I 
 warn't wantin' to come and ask ye. Thar might be evil 
 come to you and her. But I dassen't say no. Thar's 
 more 'n life at stake for hi-im." 
 
 The dark eyes that looked into his had suddenly 
 grown misty. The little woman took a quick step for- 
 ward and laid her hand on Abner's arm. 
 
 " You done all you could, and you done plumb 
 ri-ight," she said. " I hain't wantin' sorrer. Thar's 
 enough of hit in the world, and hit comes tol'rable easy. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 259 
 
 But that hain't no reason why a body should refuse to 
 he'p them that's in need. You go and hitch up the 
 mules." 
 
 Marshall knew nothing of that journey across the 
 fields. Later in the day he was, in some indistinct way, 
 conscious that the face which was bent over him was not 
 the face of his cousin. Perhaps it was a girl's voice in 
 his ears that set his brain wandering into new fields, and 
 made him whisper, in softer tones than those in which 
 he had hitherto spoken: "Hit's a pretty night. I've 
 come to claim the fulfilment of your promise." 
 
 When Abner had turned the mules into the field, he 
 came back to the empty house. 
 
 "Thar '11 be only one here to-night," he said. " Hit 
 hain't right more 'n one should suffer. He hain't his 
 son. Thar's no claim agin him." 
 
 Then he went over to the hearth and stood there. 
 He could not have been thinking of his cousin ; for 
 when he spoke, his words were not of him. 
 
 " Thar's no keepin' hit offn her," he said ; and there 
 was the ring of longing and despair in his voice. " I 
 aimed to do hit, but I warn't able." 
 
260 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 "" ^EELIN' pretty gue-ude abaout naow, hain't ye, 
 
 M Will ? Marshall Rutherford's gittin' his deserts, 
 JL %& you count deserts." 
 
 The speaker shifted his shoulders to obtain a more 
 comfortable support from the doorpost, and stared into 
 the room where Naomi was clearing the dishes from the 
 table, and Will Hollingsworth was doing nothing in 
 particular, unless watching Naomi was particular as it 
 might well have been, to him. 
 
 A grunt was Will's only answer. 
 
 Undismayed by the want of appreciation of one of 
 his hearers, the speaker continued : 
 
 " Knowed he'd got the small-pox, didn't ye ? Got hit 
 powerful bad, too. Hit's done tuk plumb hold of him." 
 
 "7 don't care what he's got," said Will, turning 
 savagely on the visitor. " If you're want in' ary boards 
 cut to-day, you'd better go to the mill to see after them." 
 
 " Thar's plenty of time," replied the other coolly. " I 
 hain't in a powerful hurry. Hear Abner had thro wed 
 up the nursin' 'cause doc warn't satisfied ? " 
 
 " Hear ? I hear a sight more 'n I want, with your 
 everlasting chatter," snapped Will. 
 
 He had been watching Naomi. So had the speaker. 
 There was not much for either of them to see. Only 
 half a dishful of potatoes emptied hastily into the pan 
 that contained dirty knives and plates. It was a little 
 matter, but it was not like Naomi. 
 
 " Lor, man ! don't put yourself aout," responded the 
 visitor. " You'll hear more clatter than mine afore you 
 die. Cur'ous, hain't hit, that Norah Felps and her 
 
VISITING THE SIN 261 
 
 mammy's done tuk him in ? I hain't sure thar was ary 
 other person would 'a done hit. Small-pox hain't a thing 
 many hankers atter, and neither Marshall nor Ab hain't 
 got a powerful lot o' friends jist naow." 
 
 He was looking from one to the other of his listeners 
 as he spoke. It was fair to suppose that Naomi was 
 a listener, though she had turned her back on the 
 speaker and was brushing crumbs from the table with 
 some haste. 
 
 " Norah Felps is a fool ! " said Will angrily. 
 
 "No, she hain't," replied the other slowly. "That 
 girl hain't no fool, and more hain't her mammy. Ever 
 try to argy with the-em abaout Marshall and Ab ? " 
 
 " Not I," said Will. " They're all of a feather." 
 
 " I thought not. Better not try hit. That girl would 
 be more 'n a match for yo-ou" 
 
 Will uttered an exclamation that was not a blessing, 
 and went out of the door. The visitor shifted his 
 shoulders into a fresh position, and continued to gaze at 
 Naomi. 
 
 "Hit's plumb like a judgment on him, hain't hit?" 
 he said, after a considerable silence. 
 
 The girl turned from the now crumbless table and 
 swept her eyes over the speaker's person. 
 
 " If judgments are coming this away, there '11 be a 
 smart sight o' folks calling aout before long," she said. 
 
 He laughed awkwardly, relieved the doorpost of his 
 weight, and went off to the mill. 
 
 " Hit's done tuk plumb hold of him." 
 
 Naomi stood staring at the dish-pan, and listening to 
 the words as they formed themselves again and again in 
 her brain. It was the first she had heard of Marshall's 
 illness. The workmen in the house rarely mentioned 
 the young man's name, possibly having not yet forgotten 
 the two or three vigorous snubs that had followed 
 attempts to see how the land lay when Marshall first 
 
262 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 left the boarding-house. Whatever knowledge Dalbert 
 possessed he kept to himself. The increase of brotherly 
 feeling that had existed during Will Rollings worth's 
 absence had more than died out since. 
 
 It was possibly ten minutes before Naomi remembered 
 to lift the dish-pan and carry it into the kitchen. Dish- 
 washing was a purely mechanical performance that 
 afternoon. 
 
 The day was not a propitious one for the assertion of 
 brotherly authority. The heart that is listening to its 
 own condemnation does not take kindly to that of 
 another. Dalbert was perhaps unfortunate ; but he had 
 no choice, or he persuaded himself that he had none. 
 He had come to the limit of his patience and passed it. 
 
 The attitude he had been obliged to take, in order not 
 to range himself against his sister in the attempt to 
 force the opinion of Big Creek Gap, had never been 
 pleasant to Dalbert. In the last few weeks it had 
 become unbearable. Will Hollingsworth and Naomi 
 were the prime movers in this arousing of party feeling. 
 Naturally everybody credited him with sympathy with 
 the movement, if not with actual participation in it. 
 How were people to know that, while he worked for the 
 mill owner, and lived in the same house with him, he was 
 antagonistic to his actions and purposes ? He would 
 openly have denounced his policy, but that by so doing he 
 must denounce his sister. Since that policy had become 
 more aggressive, he had found it hard to keep silence. 
 
 The close intimacy with the mill owner irritated him. 
 What right had the fellow to assume more than brotherly 
 relations with Naomi ? He looked impatiently forward 
 to the time when he should be able to tell Will Hollings- 
 worth to look after his own mill. Then he would take 
 Naomi away from an influence that brought out the side 
 of the girl's character that Dalbert could least under- 
 stand. He felt nearer to that time when he went out 
 
VISITING THE SIN 263 
 
 that morning, for there had just been dispatched another 
 handful of letters that left his indebtedness at Cedar 
 Fork comparatively small. They left the actual cash in 
 his pocket more than comparatively so. 
 
 When he left the house that day, Dal did not know 
 quite how near he was to the time when he would tell 
 Will to look after his own mill. He did not know when 
 he started for the village : he did when he came back. 
 Before he entered the boarding-house, the knowledge had 
 passed into action. 
 
 " Naomi, where are you ? " 
 
 Dalbert's voice rang through the place. Its tone was 
 imperative. 
 
 " We-el ? " said the girl, appearing at the door of the 
 kitchen. 
 
 " I want you to pack up and get aout of this house. 
 I've done with the mill, and everything belonging to it." 
 
 Dalbert's tone was authoritative. His face was wrath- 
 ful. Naomi scanned it leisurely. 
 
 " You've been powerful quick making up your mi-ind," 
 she said. 
 
 " Quick ! " he retorted. " I've stood it till I can't 
 stand it a day longer. I ain't a brute, if Will Hollings- 
 worth is." 
 
 " No-o ? " she replied, raising her eyebrows a little. 
 
 "Look here," he said, coming a step nearer, "we've 
 had enough of this fooling. You ain't without con- 
 science or heart, if you do act as if you'd nary a bit of 
 either." 
 
 "Thank you," she said sarcastically. 
 
 " It had got to come to an end, and it has come," said 
 Dalbert, too much carried away by his own appreciation 
 of the subject to be observant of his sister's attitude 
 towards it. "We've done with Will Hollingsworth and 
 his mill, and with his house too, so the sooner we get 
 aout of it, the better." 
 
264 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 He looked at Naomi as if he expected her to make 
 immediate movement towards putting the latter proposi- 
 tion into effect. Her eyes were fixed on his face with 
 an expression half scornful, half indulgent. She made 
 no answer in words. 
 
 " I've told Will Hollingsworth that he's had the last 
 stroke of work he'll get aout of me," Dalbert continued. 
 " I'll have naught to say to a man who thinks it a fine 
 piece of business to frighten a harmless feller aout of his 
 wits, to say nothing of killing a sick man." 
 
 He was not sufficiently at leisure from himself to 
 notice the startled movement of the listener's eyelids 
 which was simultaneous with the last words. There 
 was still no answer from Naomi. 
 
 " To have a great brute like John Kisselbaugh claim- 
 ing connection with me" he continued angrily, "and 
 taking it for granted that I was a party to his outrages ! " 
 
 "What has John Kisselbaugh to do with the mill?" 
 asked Naomi. 
 
 "What has he to do with the mill ?" repeated Dal. 
 " Not much. What he has to do with Will Hollings- 
 worth is more to the point. Who's set such ruffians at 
 work, and given them the countenance of a decent 
 name ? Would that brute have dared to come up to me 
 if Will hadn't given him reason to think that he might ? 
 ' Our friend Ab has had a bit of a scare, hain't he ? ' he 
 said, bold as brass, poking his elbow into me as if he'd 
 a right to be as free as he liked. ' Been dreamin* of 
 ha'nts all his life, and come to see one with his own eyes 
 at last. Pity he shouldn't, naow, afore hit was too late, 
 warn'thit?'" 
 
 Dalbert' s eyes flashed angrily. If it was in this mood 
 he met John Kisselbaugh, there was little fear that even 
 he would repeat the offence. 
 
 " Is tha-at all ? " The girl laughed lightly. It would 
 not have taken a very close observer to detect a tone of 
 
VISITING THE SIN 265 
 
 relief. " If a fool chooses to see a ghost, what is that to 
 you or me? I'm not going to complain." 
 
 He turned on her angrily. 
 
 " What is it to you ? " he said. " It may be nothing ; 
 but if so, more shame to you. Don't you understand 
 the feller's words? How did he know Abner Poteet 
 had had a scare, unless he was in the business ? He 
 took good care not to say so, but he meant me to under- 
 stand that he was at the bottom of it." 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! " said Naomi, with a movement of im- 
 patience. " Let him be at the bottom of it, or ary other 
 place in it, if he wa-ants to. There's no need of a 
 tempest over tha-at." 
 
 Her words did not tend to cool Dalbert's temper. 
 
 " Look here, Naomi," he said. " I've had enough of 
 this. You ain't like the same girl that came to Big 
 Creek Gap. You don't see any harm in things that 
 would have looked powerful bad to you twelve months 
 ago. If you ain't ashamed of what's been going on, I 
 am. It's time this thing was stopped, and I've stopped 
 it. We've done with this arrangement, and none too 
 soon." 
 
 " You've been fool enough to give up your place at 
 the mill ? " 
 
 Naomi spoke slowly and deliberately. 
 
 "I've given it up fool or not," he said. 
 
 "And what are you going to do next ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Go to farming, maybe," he replied. 
 
 " At this time of the year ? " 
 
 " It's not too late for a crop of corn." 
 
 She laughed contemptuously. 
 
 "Going to grow corn without seed, and with one 
 horse to do your ploughing as late in the season as this ? " 
 
 " I don't know what I'm going to do," he replied. 
 "But I do know I won't stay here." 
 
 " When are you going ? " she asked. 
 
266 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " As soon as you can get ready. To-night, if you can 
 pack up your things." 
 
 "My things are not in the question. I'm going to 
 stay he-re," she said. 
 
 She was looking at him steadily. 
 
 Naomi!" 
 
 He stared at her as if he could not believe his ears. 
 In truth, he found it difficult to do so. This was an out- 
 come on which he had not reckoned. 
 
 " You won't -go with me ? " 
 
 He had waited for an answer to his exclamation, but 
 it had not come. 
 
 "Certainly not," she said. "I'm not a fool, if you 
 choose to be one." 
 
 " What will you do ? " he asked. 
 
 " Stay where I am. It is more practicable than grow- 
 ing a crop of corn on nothing." 
 
 " Stay here with that feller ? " 
 
 " Stay here and go on with my work," she said. " I'm 
 not fond of starvation." 
 
 " Nor of respectability," he retorted, turning on his 
 heel. 
 
 Even when he walked away, Dalbert did not really 
 believe that his sister would persist in her refusal to 
 leave the boarding-house. The rude familiarity of John 
 Kisselbaugh had brought home to him the position in 
 which he stood, and the man's words had opened his 
 eyes to the true character of the warfare that was being 
 waged. He had understood, as John had meant that he 
 should, more than the words expressed, more than the 
 man intended that any should know as a fact. He 
 realised the malice and unscrupulousness of these allies 
 of Will Hollingsworth. Hot anger had been aroused at 
 the thought that all this was done in his sister's name 
 and his own. John Kisselbaugh's words had proved the 
 straw too much for him. He had gone straight to the 
 
VISITING THE SIN 267 
 
 mill, and given Will the benefit of a little plain talk. He 
 ended by resigning his position, and refusing to do 
 another day's work in the place. 
 
 " Please yourself," replied Will coolly. 
 
 It may have been that the mill owner counted on 
 influence more potent than words of his. To all appear- 
 ance he did not disturb himself much about his superin- 
 tendent's decision. 
 
 Before the day was over, the vague plans that had 
 been floating in Dalbert's mind had crystalised. The 
 immediate securing of a home was an imperative 
 necessity. After what had occurred that day, the same 
 roof would not shelter him and Will Hollingsworth. It 
 was hardly likely that a new position as manager could 
 be obtained in a hurry. Saw-mills were not as plentiful 
 in the mountains in those days as they became a few 
 years later. He might find what he wanted in time, 
 but certainly not to-day. And he must secure a home 
 to-day. 
 
 When he came again within sight of the " branch," 
 he possessed one. Not a very satisfactory home, 
 nothing but a rude log cabin, set in a hollow half- 
 way up the slope of one of the ridges that diver- 
 sify the country inside the great sweep formed by the 
 Cumberland and Walden mountains. It was a long 
 way from being attractive, it could not even boast of 
 picturesqueness, and it was hopelessly dirty. But it 
 was a shelter, and it was far removed from both vil- 
 lage and mill. The latter fact was, in Dalbert's esti- 
 mation, overpoweringly in its favour. His mind at once 
 busied itself with plans for converting the rough cabin 
 into a decent dwelling. He did not deny that the 
 change would be a hard one for Naomi, but it was 
 very much her own fault. However strongly he might 
 blame Will Hollingsworth, Dalbert could not forget that 
 the movement against Abner Poteet had been set on 
 foot by his sister. 
 
268 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The working of the fields that pertained to the log 
 cabin was not as hopeless a matter as Naomi had sug- 
 gested. Cash was by no means an indispensable item 
 of the programme. It was easy to arrange with the 
 owner to supply the mules and implements for working 
 the land. When his crop was gathered in, Dalbert 
 would have nothing to do but divide the produce into 
 two parts and give the landlord his choice. 
 
 In the meantime the lateness of the season presented 
 the greatest difficulty. It was even now the first week 
 in May, and the crops in the fields he passed looked to 
 Dalbert almost grown. He was impatient to be at 
 work preparing for his own. It was too late to draw 
 back, even if he had so desired. He allowed his 
 thoughts to go forward. Already he was entering with 
 something like eagerness into the new scheme. It 
 would at least bring the present condition of things to 
 an end. 
 
 His anger against Will Hollingsworth had not in the 
 slightest degree cooled when he came back into the val- 
 ley, but his irritation towards Naorni was swallowed up 
 in the multitude of thoughts and considerations con- 
 nected with the new enterprise. It was not worth while 
 to nurse his resentment against his sister. Besides, she 
 would have to suffer for her folly. There was no need 
 for him to scold. 
 
 But when his feet carried him down the sharp slope 
 of the bank, almost on top of the house, and his eyes 
 showed him his sister sitting upon the doorstep in close 
 and apparently friendly converse with Will, his tolerance 
 experienced a severe strain. He passed the two without 
 a word, and went in at a back door. 
 
 Being a man who was not observant of the working 
 of women's ways, Dalbert did not know, and could not 
 be expected to understand, that there were reasons other 
 than an overwhelming desire for his company that might 
 
VISITING THE SIN 269 
 
 prompt Naomi to assume an easy familiarity with Will 
 Hollingsworth on this particular evening. Will, who 
 was as well versed in those same women's ways as 
 Dalbert was ignorant, was not at all surprised that she 
 did not avoid him when he returned to the house. She 
 met him with a frown. 
 
 " What did you want to quarrel with Dal for ? " she 
 asked peremptorily. 
 
 "/ quarrel with Dal ? " he said, looking at her with a 
 smile. " Lor ! if you'd heard hi-im abuse me, you wouldn't 
 know how to praise my forbearance loudly enough." 
 
 "You are plumb foolish both of you," she said. 
 " How are you going to get on without Dal ? " 
 
 " How's Dal going to get on without me-e ? " he asked, 
 laughing. 
 
 It was not his policy to treat the trouble seriously 
 with her. Whatever his own feelings might be, he met 
 the difficulty lightly. Neither spoke of Marshall Ruther- 
 ford, but the little bit of conversation listened to that 
 morning occupied a more prominent place in both minds 
 than did the quarrel between Dalbert and the mill owner. 
 
 Will looked up quizzically as Dal passed, and then 
 down again at the girl. 
 
 " Implacable," he said in a low voice. 
 
 "What can you expect?" she replied, in a tone that 
 was light, but not meaningless. "He holds you respon- 
 sible for John Kisselbaugh's doings, and John is a brute. 
 Frightening sick men and fools is not manly work." 
 
 She did not avoid his eyes as she spoke. On the 
 contrary, she raised her own to a level with his face. 
 Her look was neither a challenge nor a reproach. It 
 was a quiet, steady gaze that required no interpretation 
 because it held no hidden meaning. For one moment 
 there came across the face of Will Hollingsworth the 
 suggestion of a scowl. It was a mere suggestion, gone 
 almost as soon as it appeared. 
 
270 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "If I'm to answer for all John Kisselbaugh's doings, 
 I'm to be pitied," he said. 
 
 " In addition to your own ye-es," she replied slowly. 
 
 There were three people beneath the boarding-house 
 roof who made but a feint of slumber that night. Dal- 
 bert threw himself on his bed, and gave himself up to his 
 thoughts, alternately fuming over Naomi's obstinacy and 
 working out plans for the season's labours. Occasion- 
 ally he broke off from this double train of thought to 
 indulge in an ebullition of anger against Will and his 
 insolent pretensions. He did not hide from himself the 
 fact that the move was a losing one on his side. By 
 throwing up his work at the mill, he was putting off 
 indefinitely the time when he should again operate a 
 mill of his own. It would have been wiser to exercise a 
 little more patience. But his irritation at a connection 
 that had long been distasteful was too great to allow him 
 even to wish that it had been possible for him to con- 
 tinue that connection longer. He was glad that it was 
 severed ; and as for his sister, it was time she was re- 
 moved from Will Hollings worth's influence. He could 
 not understand how she could feel satisfaction at the 
 attentions of the mill owner. 
 
 He was taking the satisfaction a little too much for 
 granted. Naomi's attitude afforded no suggestion of it 
 as she sat in the darkness, with an angry pain at her 
 heart. There was no moon, as there had been on a 
 night, more than a month ago, when she stood by the 
 window. Clouds were over the sky now ; and if they 
 had not been there she would not have gone to the 
 window. She wanted no reminder of the time when 
 Marshall Lane Rutherford's life was not yet completely 
 outside her own. She had made her choice then, and 
 she meant to abide by it. But she had not reckoned on 
 this. Marshall Lane Rutherford in health and Marshall 
 Lane Rutherford ill and helpless were different objects 
 
VISITING THE SIN 271 
 
 of attack. The young man's relationship to Kennedy 
 Poteet stood out less prominently to-night than the 
 character that had made itself felt in those two weeks 
 of intercourse. 
 
 Towards Abner Poteet, Naomi's anger was hot. Truly 
 it was like a Poteet to consult his own safety and ease 
 by putting the risk and the burden of the nursing on 
 others. Why should Norah Felps and her mother be 
 dragged into the business ? The words of the visitor 
 vibrated uncomfortably through her brain. " Cur'ous, 
 hain't hit, that Norah Felps and her mammy done tuk 
 him in ? I hain't sure thar was ary other person would 
 'a done hit." Common humanity surely called for 
 gratitude to this woman and girl. But it was not grati- 
 tude that was stirring in Naomi's heart. It gave her 
 no satisfaction to be assured that womanly ministrations 
 would fall to the sick man's lot. It was when she 
 thought of his eyes opening to meet the queenly face of 
 Norah Felps that she grew more violently irritated 
 against Abner Poteet, and that some of her irritation 
 passed over to Will Hollingsworth. Will's zeal had out- 
 run his discretion. What did he want with such allies 
 as John Kisselbaugh ? Questionable methods of war- 
 fare were unnecessary, where the justice was all on one 
 side. 
 
 Justice had never looked less attractive than it did 
 to-night, when it laid a firm hand on Naomi's heart, and 
 forced her to acknowledge that truth had not changed, 
 and that Kennedy Poteet was no less a murderer to-day 
 than when she found in the "bone cave" the indisput- 
 able evidence of his guilt. And Marshall Lane Ruther- 
 ford was his nephew, and the gainer by his crimes, as 
 fully now as he had ever been. The situation was in 
 no sense altered by the fact that the young man lay at 
 the point of death. 
 
 The angry pain in the girl's heart had perhaps some- 
 
272 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 thing to do with her readiness to mete out a measure of 
 justice to her brother. It was just like Dal to upset 
 things now that he was so near success. A few more 
 months, and he could, if he chose, make a move that 
 would be profitable to himself. To-day he was penniless. 
 He simply could not quarrel with Will Hollingsworth. 
 The moment was the most inopportune possible. He 
 would have to give in. She would smooth the way for 
 him with Will, and leave him to take the rest of the 
 consequences himself. Will would be glad enough to 
 see him go back to work again. Dal was as necessary 
 to the success of the mill as the mill owner's money was 
 necessary to Dal. They were all dependent on each 
 other, and it was foolish to quarrel. 
 
 And yet, in her heart, Naomi never felt more like 
 quarrelling than she did to-night, only she did not quite 
 know with whom to quarrel. The real quarrel was with 
 herself. 
 
 Not so Will Hollingsworth. His quarrel was never 
 with the mill owner. When Will and the world were at 
 daggers drawn, it was always the world that was to 
 blame. At the present moment it was only a piece of 
 the world. Dal was a fool, always had been, and always 
 would be. He was an aggravating fool. But fools were 
 not always prejudicial factors in a case. They had 
 been known to be useful before now. 
 
 Will was not as sure as Naomi that Dal would be 
 willing to resume work at the mill. He was not at all 
 certain that he desired such an ending to the quarrel. 
 Dai's influence with Naomi was decidedly against him. 
 It was the last thing he would have told Naomi, but to 
 himself he acknowledged that if the mill could get on 
 without the superintendent, the mill owner could, and if 
 the mill could not, well, there was a possibility that the 
 mill might be left to take its chance. 
 
 If it had been a question of getting on without the 
 
VISITING THE SIN 273 
 
 superintendent's sister, the answer would have been 
 different. Fortunately, it was not. Will had with some 
 dexterity assured himself on that point. It was a funda- 
 mental one. If the superintendent's sister could not be 
 retained without the superintendent, the superintendent 
 must not go. 
 
 Will's real quarrel, however, was not with Dal. His 
 mind was in a decided state of unrest, but it was not 
 Dalbert Mozingo who was answerable for that condition. 
 When Will consigned himself to the sheets, and con- 
 cluded to give himself up to slumber, his last thoughts 
 were not of his manager. Nor had Dal any consider- 
 able share of his waking projects when, a short time 
 after the sun showed a red rim above the hills, he let 
 himself out into a dewy, half awakened world, and 
 walked down to the valley road. 
 
 Any one not conversant with Will Hollingsworth's 
 feelings might have imagined that he was bound for the 
 home of Mrs. Felps, to inquire after the welfare of 
 Marshall Lane Rutherford. He took the path over the 
 low-lying fields that led across to the mountain. Before 
 he reached the cottage, however, he turned off, passing 
 the shallow excavations from which, in the days before 
 the war, men dug iron ore for the village blacksmith to 
 turn into horse-shoes and plough-shares. Beyond the 
 shallow mines he came upon another house, and was 
 early enough to see its owner emerge from the door, a 
 little sleepy-looking about the eyes, as befitted the first 
 minutes of a day hardly yet begun. 
 
 " Good morning, Wash," said Will briskly. " I came 
 to see when you aimed to have them logs sawed." 
 
 "Oh, I hain't in nary bit of a hurry," replied the 
 other, not without some indications of surprise. "I 
 warn't calc'latin' to hev 'em cut jist at present." 
 
 " I'm glad of it," said the mill owner heartily. " I'm 
 considerable driven just now. There's men want more 
 
274 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 sawing done than I can get through. I was reckonin' 
 on taking an order from a man aout Jellico way for a 
 tolerable big lot of lumber, but I warn't aimin' to put 
 my friends aout none for hi-im. If you wa-ant them 
 boards done, you can have 'em. I only wanted to know." 
 
 The young man for he was some four or five years 
 younger than Will shook his head. 
 
 " I hain't in nary bit of a hurry," he said. 
 
 "That's good news," replied Will, following the other 
 into the barn. 
 
 In spite of his vaunted pressure of business the mill 
 owner seemed in no hurry to get back to the mill. He 
 strolled around after Wash Forehand while the latter 
 fed his mules and his cow. From the mules the talk 
 went to other subjects ; and when the animals were fed, 
 the two men stood lounging against the hay-mow, talk- 
 ing still. " Hit hain't a pleasant thing to hev round," 
 the young man was saying. 
 
 "No, it ain't" replied the mill owner emphatically. 
 " You've got a mother, and sisters, Wash ; and you've a 
 right to think of the-em. It ain't as if it had been kept 
 aout of the way, as you might say, in Ab Poteet's house. 
 He hadn't nary one to think of but himself; and if he 
 was to catch it, why, I ain't sayin' there'd be much harm 
 done. But now well, it's tolerable near to you-u, and 
 there's Norah " 
 
 He stopped reflectively, took a stalk of hay, and began 
 chewing it. 
 
 "Yes, hit is tol'rable near," said Wash with some 
 irritation. "Hit hain't jist right that hit should be so 
 near." 
 
 "It ain't, Wash. That's plumb true," replied Will, 
 still chewing the grass-stalk meditatively. " It's hard 
 on you-u. And there's that girl to think of. She ain't 
 thinkin' of herself none. Girls don't when there's a man 
 they ain't consider in' just exactly in the same light as 
 
VISITING THE SIN 275 
 
 other men plumb in front of the question. It ain't to 
 be expected that Norah will think till she's down with 
 the small-pox. She's a powerful fine girl is Norah, a 
 powerful fine gi-irl." 
 
 He stopped to chew the hay-stalk appreciatively. 
 
 Wash Forehand remained silent. 
 
 " I ain't saying you-u should do ary thing in the mat- 
 ter," continued Will after a long pause. " It ain't an 
 easy question to decide. But if ary person should feel 
 it right to take that sick man plumb out o' this valley, 
 it would be a mighty good thing for the valley and 
 for Norah Felps. I'm pitying that poor girl, all the 
 more that I know her heart's in the nursin'." 
 
 He glanced meditatively at Wash as he spoke, and 
 was not surprised to see the hot blood reddening face 
 and neck. 
 
 " I hain't calc'latin' Norah feels a mite more interest 
 in Marshall Rutherford than in ary other sick man," 
 said Wash uneasily. " She's a good-hearted girl, and 
 she's sorry for him. She hain't expectin' to ketch hit, 
 but she mi-ight." 
 
 " Yes, she mi-ight," said Will. 
 
 " Marshall Rutherford don't belong this away," he 
 resumed after a considerable silence. "He's only come 
 here lately. It's the place where he belongs that ought 
 to take care of hi-im. It's plumb wrong that he should 
 cost that girl her life or her pretty face. She's a 
 powerful pretty girl, I declare." 
 
 There was no need to tell Wash Forehand that. 
 Everybody knew that Norah' s pretty face had turned 
 his head long ago. 
 
 " Hit hain't right to leave him thar," he said doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " It's plumb wrong," replied Will. " It's nothing to 
 me. I ain't afraid of small-pox. Had it when I was a 
 young un. But I don't like to see an injustice done; 
 
276 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 and I say it is an injustice to that girl, and to your 
 mother and sisters too, to leave that sick man right there 
 among folks the way he is now. It's plumb wrong, and 
 it would be a real benefit to everybody round here if ary 
 person should see his way to alter it. But it ain't my 
 business." 
 
 He pulled the hay-stalk from his mouth, and threw it 
 away. Then he straightened himself. 
 
 "Well, I reckon I'd better be moving," he said. 
 " There's a smart sight of sawing to be done before sun- 
 down." 
 
 He went back across the fields with a smile on his 
 face that certainly was not heaven-born, and that hardly 
 owed its origin to earth. He was just in time to meet 
 Dalbert coming out of the house. 
 
 " I'm going to see about a wagon to carry my things 
 away," said the young man shortly. 
 
 " Don't hurry yourself," replied Will, with perfect 
 coolness. "Take your time. I think there's a day or 
 two's money between us. You can have it when you 
 like." 
 
 " As well now as any other time," replied Dalbert. 
 
 The young man's face was paler than usual. He had 
 just learned that Naomi's refusal to leave the boarding- 
 house was something more than a piece of temporary 
 opposition. He was as much surprised at her deter- 
 mination as she was at the news that he had actually 
 hired a farm. They looked at each other in something 
 like consternation. 
 
 "Well, I never thought you'd be so plumb foolish," 
 she said. 
 
 " Does it look foolish to you to be tired of this ? " he 
 asked. " It's real, powerful real. I'll not stand another 
 day of it. You've got to choose between me and Will 
 Hollingsworth, Naomi." 
 
 He looked angry, but his voice was gentle. There 
 was entreaty in his eyes. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 277 
 
 " You put it wrong," she said. " It's a choice between 
 starvation and the boarding-house. I'll stick to the 
 boarding-house.' ' 
 
 His face grew pale. 
 
 You mean it ? " he asked. 
 
 " Of course I do. I should be a fool if I didn't." 
 
 He turned away from her ; but when he reached the 
 door, he stopped. Then he came back. 
 
 " No, I can't go so," he said. " Naomi, you are not 
 realising what you are doing." 
 
 " Oh, I'll get an old woman in to play propriety," she 
 said. " I want some help." 
 
 " And you won't come ? " 
 
 "I won't come." 
 
 She looked him full in the face. 
 
 "Then I'll go," he said. "And I'll not come back. 
 While you go one way and I go another, the further we 
 are apart the better." 
 
 Again he turned at the door. 
 
 " I shall come for the contents of my own room," he 
 said. " The rest of the things I will leave for you." 
 
 Then he went out, and met Will. 
 
278 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 "f iHERE'S a si-ight of difference between having 
 a sister to do things for you and having every- 
 
 JL thing on your own hands." 
 
 Dalbert was down on his knees scrubbing a floor 
 that, to judge by appearances, was receiving its first 
 application of sand and water that evening. His reflec- 
 tions took character from his occupation. 
 
 Dal was tired. He had come in from a long day's 
 ploughing, with muscles aching from the unaccustomed 
 labour, and prepared his own supper in a house dirty 
 enough to take away the appetite of even a hungry man. 
 Then he had set to work with a stone and some sand to 
 scrub off the top coat of dirt from that cabin floor. It 
 was not a hopeful occupation. And the thoughts which 
 were an accompaniment to the work were not of a kind 
 calculated to lighten the labour. 
 
 The young man was worried about Naomi, and his 
 own prospects were not promising enough to be an offset 
 to his anxiety. It was well that his credit was good at 
 the village store, or he might have had to ponder over 
 the question of providing dinners and breakfasts as well 
 as cooking them. Credit does not furnish the best of 
 sauces for a frugal meal, however ; and Dalbert 's supper 
 had been of a strictly frugal character. The situation 
 looked gloomy, and that log cabin more so. Dal 
 scrubbed and pondered, and grew more tired and less 
 hopeful, and then went to bed and worried about Naomi. 
 
 It was on the same evening, while Dalbert was yet 
 struggling with the dirt on the cabin floor, that a little 
 shock-headed, wild-eyed lad might have been seen if 
 
VISITING THE SIN 279 
 
 there had been anybody to see him hurrying across 
 the fields in the direction of the old ore mine. His 
 progress was not in proportion to his haste. The night 
 was dark, and he had no lantern. Ridges and holes 
 were as plentiful as was to be expected when a traveller 
 had left the path and struck across rough pasture land 
 in the neighbourhood of the mountains. Caution was as- 
 suredly in place on this dark evening. There were, too, 
 risks enough of another nature to make a little lad, out 
 alone in the darkness, look sharply about him. The 
 graveyard was behind, some distance behind, but near 
 enough to have a suggestive effect on his thoughts. 
 Moreover, night was the time for witches to be abroad ; 
 and everybody knew that witches were plentiful in that 
 region. The boy recalled stories of witch-riding where- 
 in the horse had been man or boy metamorphosed for 
 the occasion, and the riding had lacked nothing but 
 mercy. He grew hot and anxious, peering into the 
 darkness with eyes that were ready for any uncanny 
 sight. He wished he had a lantern, and then grunted 
 contemptuously at the thought that the last thing 
 he desired was to draw attention to his presence by the 
 twinkling light of a moving lantern. 
 
 He hurried along, making as direct a line for Mrs. 
 Felps's cottage as the darkness would permit. As he 
 passed beyond the last belt of trees, the light from the 
 windows gave him courage. He broke into a run, his 
 forward dash accompanied by more than one nervous 
 glance over his shoulder. His breathlessness when he 
 reached the door was not altogether to be attributed to 
 the exertion of running. He came in with a rush. 
 
 "I've done got here fust. . He hain't within hearin' 
 yit." 
 
 As the door burst open, a little black-eyed woman 
 sprang to her feet. 
 
 "Mercy sakes, boy! what du you mean by comin' 
 
280 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 he-ere ? " she cried. " Don't you know thar's small-pox 
 in this house? Git aout o' here quick, if you hain't 
 aimin' to be tuk with hit." 
 
 The boy retreated a step, and stood in the doorway, 
 hesitating between the darkness without and the danger 
 within. 
 
 "I hain't inside," he said doggedly. "You listen to 
 me. Hev you-uns contrairied John Kisselbaugh ary 
 way ? Has he got ary grudge agin ye ? If he has, 
 you'd better lue-uke aout. I come to tell ye. I warn't 
 wantin' him to git the better o' ke-er" 
 
 He nodded towards an inner room. He had heard 
 Norah's voice. 
 
 " Come to tell what ? " 
 
 Mrs. Felps looked puzzled. 
 
 "That John's aimin' to be here to-night," replied the 
 little lad. " I cain't tell what for. He warn't sayin' 
 tha-at. But I heared him say he was a-comin'. He was 
 a-laffin to himself, and cursin' the mules 'cause they 
 didn't git home fast enough. ' Git up, you lazy brutes ! ' 
 says he, flourishin' his whip like a good un. ' Hain't I 
 got to tumble this load aout and git turned round like 
 a flash to pay that upstart gal a leetle visit ? Lor ! my 
 dear, won't them black eyes o' yourn shine when we 
 come along ? I hain't forgot the last time I was in yer 
 company, my dear,' says he. ' I hadn't as many of my 
 friends with me then as I should 'a liked ; but bless your 
 shinin' eyes, Norah, gal, I hain't comin' unattended 
 thi-is time.' And with that he started wallopin' the 
 mules, and I slipped. I thought he was a-comin' plumb 
 directly. I wanted to warn he-er. If he's got a grudge 
 agin her, you'd better look aou-ut." 
 
 " Lor me ! What should the man be comin' here 
 for?" said Mrs. Felps. "Mercy alive! He'd better 
 no-ot. This hain't a house to come visit in' in." 
 
 " How long was hit since you see John ? " 
 
VISITING THE SIN 281 
 
 The words were quick and sharp. So were the eyes 
 of the girl who came through an inner door into the 
 room. 
 
 " Not a powerful while." 
 
 " Did you come straight here ? " 
 
 " I reckon." 
 
 "Wha'r was John?" 
 
 " On the road comin' from Big Creek. He'd got to 
 go home, I reckon ; but he was wallopin' the mules for 
 all he was worth. It wouldn't take him long." 
 
 "Was he drunk?" 
 
 " I reckon." 
 
 There was a minute's silence. It was broken by the 
 girl. 
 
 "All right, Jimmy boy," she said appreciatively. 
 " Hit's worth somethin' to hev a friend like you, hain't 
 hit? You're more good than a dozen men, I dec tar. 
 We'll be ready for visitors, now you've give us notice. 
 Lor ! we'll hev all the best china aout, and the johnny- 
 cake a-cuekin' time they co-ome." 
 
 The boy laughed. 
 
 "John's a bad un," he said doubtfully. "He's a 
 bully man, when he's got a grudge agin ary person." 
 
 " Lor, yes ! " said the girl. " John hain't a lamb. But 
 you wait, Jimmy Paul you wa-it." 
 
 The boy laughed again. 
 
 " What '11 you du ? " he asked. " I'd powerful like to 
 see John plumb tuk daown." 
 
 " Would ye ? " said the girl. " We-el, you-u won't see 
 hit, because you've got to go. Hit wouldn't du for you-u 
 to be seen this away. John might git a grudge agin 
 you-u. No, Jimmy Paul, you jist fly, and git back afore 
 John comes. We-uns '11 fix hi-im." 
 
 " I reckon," said the boy, lingering a moment before 
 he went out into the darkness. 
 
 Norah crossed over to the door, and locked it. 
 
282 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Mammy ! " she said, turning to the little black-eyed 
 woman by the hearth. 
 
 " Hit's plumb dangerous," said Mrs. Felps, in answer 
 to that unspoken expression of opinion. "John's pow- 
 erful rough when he's drunk." 
 
 " Hit is dangerous," said the girl. "He hain't forgot 
 the shakin' Abner give him in the cave. He's meanin' 
 somethin'." 
 
 "He dassen't touch ur-rs," said the mother scornfully. 
 
 " He hain't atter ur-rs," replied Norah. " He hain't 
 aimin' to lay a finger on we-uns. Mammy hit's hi-im." 
 
 She nodded towards the inner room, from whence a 
 man's voice was audible now and again in strange mut- 
 terings. 
 
 Mrs. Felps shook her head. 
 
 " What should John want with hi-im ? " she said. 
 "Hit's you he's aimin' to hurt, honey. He's got a 
 grudge agin you for what Ab done." 
 
 She was looking questioningly into the girl's face. 
 There was no fear in that look, but there was loving 
 anxiety. That beautiful girlish face was the sun of the 
 mother's world. 
 
 "I know," replied Norah. "But John hain't aimin' 
 to touch ur-rs. He'd powerful li-ike to du hit, but he 
 cain't. And John knows hit. Thar's nary man in Big 
 Creek Gap would lay finger on we-uns." 
 
 She lifted her head proudly. 
 
 A light leapt to the mother's eyes. 
 
 " That's plumb true," she said. " John would hev to 
 go clar beyond Big Creek Gap to find a man that would 
 du aught agin you-u." 
 
 "No, we hain't nothin' to fear," replied the girl. 
 "Mammy, don't you see what he's atter? He's aimin' 
 to hurt us through ki-im" Again there was a glance 
 towards the inner room. "Thar hain't a man save 
 John himself would go agin ur-rs, but thar's fifty plumb 
 
VISITING THE SIN 283 
 
 ready to go agin hi-im. We've done gone and put our- 
 selves on the losin' side. We've tuk Marshall in, when 
 we'd ought er let him die. Thar's them that would be 
 ready enough to show us we cain't du what we like with 
 our own house if what we like is he'pin' Ab or Marshall. 
 We-el, let 'em put hit to the test." 
 
 She gave her head a little scornful toss. 
 
 " They cain't touch a sick man," said Mrs. Felps ; 
 but she said it doubtfully. 
 
 Norah laughed contemptuously. 
 
 "Is John Kisselbaugh the feller to stop for a sick 
 man ? " she said. " Lor ! the sicker he is, the more that 
 coward will du. He'd maybe stop for a well man. If 
 Marshall Rutherford could stand up to him, John would 
 sha-ake in his shoes ; but a sick man's jist the game for 
 hi-im." 
 
 " Thar's truth in tha-at," said her mother. "But if 
 they've got a sick man to deal with in Marshall, they 
 hain't got a sick woman in me-e." 
 
 The girl was silent. Her mother watched her for a 
 minute. 
 
 " What is it, honey ? " 
 
 " Mammy ! " 
 
 Her eyes were shining. 
 
 "We-ell, darter?" 
 
 "They hain't goin' to touch Marshall. We-uns are 
 goin' to see to tha-at," said the girl. " But you've got 
 to let me hev my own way. Thar's danger for him 
 to-night. We-uns hain't no match for a lot o' drunken 
 men. John's a brute when he's tight. He hain't much 
 less 'n a brute when he's had nary a drop. Mammy, we 
 hain't goin' to let 'em kill him naow." 
 
 She came up close to her mother, and the eyes that 
 looked straight into those of the little woman were 
 pleading. 
 
 Mrs. Felps shook her head. 
 
284 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " I cain't promise anything, honey/' she said. " I've 
 got to know fust." 
 
 " Mammy, you will let me you must. I I cain't 
 let him die, and roughness of ary kind would kill him." 
 
 She put her hands on her mother's shoulders, and 
 looked down into her face. Whatever those eyes said 
 in that long look of confidence, they said eloquently. 
 
 The mother sighed, and then laughed. 
 
 " I hain't expectin' thar '11 be as much trouble as you-u 
 think," she said. "But du as you li-ike. Only I hain't 
 goin' to let no harm come to you-u." 
 
 The girl bent forward for a moment, and her lips 
 touched the little woman's forehead. Then she moved 
 back with a laugh. 
 
 "Thar hain't no danger to me," she said. "Thar 
 wouldn't be no danger to him if he warn't so powerful 
 sick. But John hain't comin' for nothin'. He means 
 harm to somebody, and he knows he cain't touch ur-rs." 
 
 "Well, what is hit?" said Mrs. Felps. "Thar hain't 
 no time to lose." 
 
 It took but a minute to explain, and then mother and 
 daughter stood looking at each other. 
 
 " Thar is danger to you," said the older woman, after 
 that long look. "Thar hain't no real need to du hit. 
 Thar's them we could git to stan' by us if we hurry. 
 Wash hain't fur off. He'd come. He'd do ary thing 
 you-u asked him." 
 
 "I hain't goin' to ask one thing of Wash," said the 
 girl sharply. "And if he was to come, he'd be no 
 match for that crew. He's only one, anyway. Thar 
 hain't many would come aout to he'p Marshall Ruther- 
 ford." 
 
 She broke off. Through the still air there came a 
 harsh, discordant shout, the effort of voices not well 
 under control. 
 
 "Hurry, mammy," said Norah. "They're comin', 
 
VISITING THE SIN 285 
 
 and thar's a tol'rable many of 'em. They're drunk, 
 too," she added. 
 
 Mother and daughter went into the inner room. 
 There was no time for protest. 
 
 " You've got to keep him quiet," said Mrs. Felps. 
 
 For answer the girl stepped to the window-sill, and 
 took up a bottle. 
 
 "Thar's the sleepin' mixture doc left," she said. 
 "Hit'll quiet him in fifteen minutes. They've got to 
 be kept aout from this part till the-en." 
 
 Quietly, as if danger were not momentarily coming 
 nearer, the girl raised the sick man's head. The sound 
 of her voice caused him to look up rationally, and at her 
 bidding he emptied the cup she held to his lips. 
 
 Again there came the discordant shout. In the quiet 
 of the evening for at that hour the stillness around the 
 cottage beneath the mountain was as absolute as in the 
 dead of night that wild laughter was startling. A 
 scrap of song, a derisive shout, a burst of loud mirth, 
 succeeded each other ; and then a yell, blood-curdling 
 enough to suggest the days of savages and scalping, 
 made the heavy night air ring. The sick man started 
 up, and began talking loudly. The noise without had a 
 disturbing effect on his fevered brain. It was Norah's 
 voice that quieted him, and her hand that coaxed his 
 head back again on the pillow. This accomplished, the 
 girl turned to her mother. 
 
 " Quick ! They're 'most here," she said. " We'll 
 carry him on his bed jist as he's lay in'." 
 
 " Hit hain't goin' to be plumb easy," said her mother. 
 
 " No, hit hain't ; but hit's goin' to be done," replied 
 the girl. 
 
 They did it, and quickly. Before the sounds without 
 told them that the wagon-load of men approached the 
 house, the patient was transferred to an inner room, to 
 which access could only be gained by the one from 
 whence he had been removed. 
 
286 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " They're nearly here, mammy," said the girl quietly. 
 
 She turned from the bedside, and listened. 
 
 " Yes. Hit's time for you to go," she continued. 
 " I'll fix the bed in the other rue-ume. You keep the 
 door locked till you hear a right smart o' coughin' inside." 
 
 "/'// fasten hit," said Mrs. Felps. "And I hain't 
 calc'latin' to open hit agin for the-em. I hain't reckonin' 
 on havin' nary person in my-y rooms without invitin'. 
 You can du as you sa-ay, but I'm goin' to have my talk 
 fust." 
 
 She went out, turning the key in the big wooden lock 
 that fortunately secured the door between the outer and 
 inner rooms. The house had more conveniences than 
 were to be found in some of the dwellings in Big Creek 
 Gap. 
 
 She had hardly put the key in her pocket before there 
 was a knock on the outer door, not a riotous hammer- 
 ing, as she had expected, but a decorous knock. The 
 little woman went up to the door. 
 
 " Who's thar ? " she asked in a voice perfectly free 
 from either fear or suspicion. 
 
 " Oh, one or two of we-uns come to pay you a visit. 
 What are you-all keepin' your door locked for ? Hit 
 hain't powerful late." 
 
 The little woman almost forgot in her surprise to 
 answer, for the speaker was Wash Forehand. She 
 stepped back to the inner room, unlocked the door, and 
 put her head inside. 
 
 "Thar hain't nothin' to fear. Wash is among 'em," 
 she said. 
 
 The girl was by her side in a moment. 
 
 "Hush! I hain't trustin' Wash," she said. "Du 
 plumb the same as if he warn't thar." 
 
 She gave her mother a little push, and waited until 
 the key turned again in the lock. Her patient was quiet 
 now. The sleeping draught was taking effect. The 
 
VISITING THE SIN 287 
 
 girl ventured to leave him long enough to carry into the 
 next room the bed that had been displaced for his 
 accommodation. She stopped to listen to another knock 
 at the door. 
 
 "What's up here? Is everybody dead?" inquired 
 a fresh voice from without. 
 
 " Nary bit of hit," replied Mrs. Felps stoutly. " But 
 this hain't no house to come visitin' in. Hain't nary one 
 of ye beared thar's small-pox here? I hain't goin' to 
 hev nobody inside." 
 
 " You hain't ? " 
 
 This time it was John Kisselbaugh who spoke. 
 
 " No, I hain't. If you hain't got no consideration for 
 yourselves, I've got some for ye, whoever you may be. 
 Didn't I hear your voice, Wash ? " 
 
 " Yes. Open the door. I want to come in and hev 
 a talk with you." 
 
 The tongue spoke thickly. Wash had been calling a 
 little false courage to his aid. 
 
 " I cain't let neither you nor nobody else in to-night." 
 The little woman's tone was firm. " I'm goin' to bed. 
 Thar hain't none too much sleep to be had whar thar's 
 sickness." 
 
 " We hain't goin' to keep you long, and you'll sleep 
 better atter we're gone. You'll hev a plumb quiet 
 night's rest," replied Wash. 
 
 " Shall I ? " said Mrs. Felps, in a voice not intended 
 to reach to the other side of the door. " So that's your 
 game, is hit ? " 
 
 " I'd let you in if I could, but I cain't," she said aloud. 
 " Hit wouldn't be no more for your good than for mine. 
 Are you-uns powerful eager to ketch the small-pox ? " 
 
 " No, we hain't. And we hain't powerful eager to hev 
 our young uns ketch hit," returned John Kisselbaugh 
 savagely. "You jist open plumb quick. If not, hit 
 hain't goin' to take we-uns till to-morrer mornin' to try 
 the strength o' thi-is door." 
 
288 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 John was getting impatient. He had not come here 
 to be kept outside and cheated of the pleasure of putting 
 Norah Felps in her place. 
 
 When Wash Forehand decided that it was the duty 
 of every man in Big Creek Gap to see that danger was 
 removed from the valley, and especially that it was re- 
 moved from Norah Felps, he knew that he might count 
 on John as an ally. They were very different motives 
 that worked in the two men's minds. John gloated 
 over the opportunity for revenge. As for Wash, the 
 poor fellow had been eaten up with jealousy from the 
 moment when Will Hollingsworth suggested a motive 
 not purely philanthropic for Norah' s care of her patient. 
 It was not the first time that jealousy of Marshall Lane 
 Rutherford had stirred in his heart. He had more than 
 once met the young man at Mrs. Felps' s cottage. The 
 sight of that lithe figure had on every such occasion 
 caused him to lose his temper, and the loss of temper had 
 earned him a contemptuous snub from Norah. He was 
 not in sympathy with Marshall Lane Rutherford, even 
 in his sickness ; and Will's words woke a tempest of pas- 
 sion in his heart. Was this stranger, this nephew of a 
 murderer, to come here with his wiles, and steal away 
 the girl who was the one prize of Big Creek Gap? 
 She was ready to risk her life for him now. It would 
 not take much to make her ready to give that life to 
 him, if he chose to ask for it. Wash brooded over the 
 situation, and, as he grew desperate, had recourse to the 
 whisky bottle. His heart needed strengthening. It 
 was his courage that needed it later, after the heart had 
 evolved a scheme that satisfied its own passion but left 
 the brain aghast. 
 
 Wash would never have thought of the plan if Will 
 Hollingsworth had not suggested the danger to Big 
 Creek Gap of allowing a man sick with small-pox to re- 
 main in the village. When he decided to take Marshall 
 
VISITING THE SIN 289 
 
 away by force, he persuaded himself that the course was 
 necessary for the safety of the neighbourhood, and that 
 it was therefore justifiable. Why should one man's life 
 stand before the interests of a whole community ? And 
 the life was the life of a man against whom Big Creek 
 Gap had set its face. Marshall Lane Rutherford had 
 no right there in any case. Since he had come, and 
 turned out a menace to the community, it was per- 
 fectly legitimate to take steps to avert the danger. If 
 such steps involved consequences that were not pleas- 
 ant to contemplate, it was unfortunate for Marshall 
 Lane Rutherford. It did not materially alter the case. 
 There were consequences equally hard to accept in 
 leaving him where he was. Why should Norah and 
 her mother be exposed to contagion, and made to suffer 
 through him? 
 
 Wash was not in the full possession of his senses when 
 his first wild schemes took definite shape, and he pre- 
 pared to put them into action. His brain was maddened 
 by jealousy and inflamed by the liquor he had taken. 
 When Wash was sober, he was harmless as a baby. But 
 he had not been sober since Will paid him that morning 
 visit, and to-night he had drunk deeply. He needed 
 some extra support to carry him through the undertak- 
 ing. It was a drunken man's scheme, and it needed a 
 drunken man to carry it out. 
 
 Wash was not without fear that he would offend 
 Norah beyond hope of pardon, but his jealousy was too 
 strong to allow that consideration full weight. He 
 should lose her in any case, he told himself ; but he could 
 at least have the satisfaction of knowing that Marshall 
 Rutherford was not the gainer by his loss. 
 
 The men to whom Wash had confided a part of his 
 scheme were of the rougher class of the Big Creek com- 
 munity. A few months before, even this fact would not 
 have been sufficient to account for their presence on 
 
290 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 such an errand at Mrs. Felps's cottage. But prejudice 
 is like a stone rolling down hill. It gathers momentum 
 as it goes. Will Hollingsworth had set it moving, and 
 from time to time given it impetus till it was fairly over 
 the brow of the hill. It no longer needed external 
 force, being carried forward by its own momentum. 
 The men who stood by Mrs. Felps's door had taken up 
 the cause against Abner Poteet and Marshall Lane 
 Rutherford. They had taken it up hotly. They were 
 ready for anything. 
 
 " You'll break my door daown ! " 
 
 There was indignation in the little woman's voice. 
 She gave them no opportunity to do it, for it was open 
 now ; and she stood within, with eyes blazing at the half- 
 dozen men before her. 
 
 "Well, you're a pretty set of neighbours, I dec/ar. 
 To come along this away when a woman's tired aout 
 with nursin'. Break my door daown ! I've lived in 
 Big Creek Gap ever since I was married, and I never 
 heared sich talk as that afore, except from the rebels in 
 war time. Thar, stan' still whar you are, and let me hev 
 a good lue-uke at ye. I want to make plumb sure which 
 o' my neighbours hit is that's comin' round in the night- 
 time threatenin' two women with breakin' their door 
 daown." 
 
 She stood with one hand on the door, and the other 
 on the post, in such a way that it was not easy to pass 
 her, stood and looked at the six faces gathered round 
 the opening. 
 
 "John Kisselbaugh, and Jim Harrison, and Burly 
 France, and Frank Powell, and Nim Graham, and Wash 
 Forehand. What are you-u doin' here, Wash ? You 
 aimin* at breakin' doors daown ? " 
 
 " Lor me ! we hain't no notion o' doin' you-u ary mis- 
 chief," said Wash uneasily. " Our business hain't with 
 you-u." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 291 
 
 " Hit hain't ? I hain't so sure. Ary business inside 
 this house has got to be with me-e." 
 
 She stepped aside as she spoke, and threw the door 
 open wide. She had seen John Kisselbaugh making a 
 movement to push past her. 
 
 " Ary one that comes in takes the consequences on 
 himself," she said. "I hain't askin' one on ye in. I 
 hain't wantin' ye. I'd be proud to see ye go. Thar 
 hain't a mite o' sense in puttin' yourselves in danger. 
 And you hain't none on ye fit company for women, 
 neither. You've been drinkin', Wash, and so hev the 
 rest of ye. You're all tol'rable full. You hain't nice 
 company, and I hain't wantin' ye. If you're men in ary 
 other sense than in name, you'll go right aout. I'd be 
 proud to say good-night to ye." 
 
 "We'll go, tol'rable soon. We hain't meanin' no 
 harm to you," said Wash sullenly. "We're jist goin* in 
 to look at that sick man." 
 
 The little woman stepped between the men and the 
 door of the inner room. She was very small, but she 
 looked formidable at that moment. 
 
 "No, you hain't," she said, as the men stared at her a 
 little nervously. " Thar hain't nary one of you-uns goin' 
 further 'n this room to-night. What you've got to say, 
 say to me, and say hit plumb quick. I hain't wantin' to 
 hear. You hain't none of ye fit to talk to a woman." 
 
 " Hit won't take long to say what we've come to say," 
 replied Wash. " We-all want to see that sick man." 
 
 " You cain't see him. to-night," she said, " nor no 
 other night till he's well. He'll be proud to see ye then, 
 I reckon, if you come like decent men." 
 
 "Whar's Norah?" asked Wash irrelevantly. 
 
 Mrs. Felps stood and looked up at him for a moment. 
 That steady gaze disconcerted the big, sullen fellow. 
 He turned his eyes away. 
 
 "Whar is she?" replied the little woman. "Whar 
 
292 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 yoii-u hain't like to git speech with her. You hain't fit 
 to talk to no girl, Wash. You hain't, and you know hit. 
 Du you want to see Norah that away? Lor sakes, 
 man ! git away home, and hide your head ! Mercy ! 
 she'd never speak another word to ary one of the set of 
 ye if she was to see ye naow." 
 
 Wash wavered. Mrs. Felps looked at the men with 
 undaunted eyes. 
 
 "We-ell, it's a si-ight," she said. "Here's me and 
 Norah got enough compassion in us to risk a /^-tle 
 to he'p a sick man, and you-uns, great strong fellers 
 that could fight a bullock easy, that skeered at a 
 little bit o' sickness that you plumb forgit you're 
 men. Git away home, du, and shet yerselves up till 
 the man in ye throttles that thar coward that dassen't 
 du what two women hain't afraid on. Lor ! you'd ought 
 to be comin' to he'p with the nursin', instead of 
 actin' this away. Thar, git aout, every man of ye. 
 Hit hain't safe for you-u to be here. If you-uns was 
 to ketch hit, you're all that cowardly you'd whimper like 
 infants. If thar's danger, hit's all the more reason 
 you-uns should run." 
 
 " We hain't goin' to run away from you-u." It was 
 John Kisselbaugh who spoke. ' We're goin' in that 
 rue-ume, and we're goin' naow." 
 
 The little woman looked into the coarse, brutal face, 
 and believed that the man spoke the truth. He would 
 go in, and go in soon. 
 
 She turned to the rest. "Are you men aimin' to 
 stand by and see John break my door daown ? " she 
 asked. " Wash, hain't you got a mite o' manhood left 
 in you-u ? " 
 
 Wash looked at her sullenly. He was finding his 
 enterprise unpleasant. 
 
 " We-uns hain't calc'latin' to du you no harm," he 
 said. " But we're goin' in thar. If we hev to break 
 
VISITING THE SIN 293 
 
 that door daown, hit's your fault. We want to hev a 
 lueke at that sick man." 
 
 " What else du you want to du beside lueke ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 It was not Wash who answered. Jim Harrison 
 stepped forward. 
 
 " Lueke here," he said. " We-uns hain't got no 
 grudge agin you and Norah. Hit's plumb kind of 
 you-uns to be willin* to he'p a neighbour. But Mar- 
 shall Rutherford hain't no neighbour to we-uns. He 
 hain't belongin' to Big Creek Gap. We hain't wantin' 
 no more of Kennedy Poteet's stock in here, and we 
 hain't aimin' to hev 'em. We hain't wantin' to hev 
 the small-pox go right through the place on account of 
 hi-im. We hain't goin' to hurt a hair of his head, but 
 we're goin' to put him whar he cain't du no harm to 
 nobody, and that hain't here. He's duin' harm to 
 everybody here. He's makin' us all live in dread and 
 uneasiness. Hit hain't right. Hit's got to be altered." 
 
 " And you-uns are goin' to alter hit ? " 
 
 ' Yes." 
 
 " What '11 you du with him ? " 
 
 " Put him in a safe place. You've got to leave that 
 to we-uns." 
 
 "A nice lot to leave hit to," she said. "You're in 
 a fit state to care for a sick man, hain't ye ? Well, go 
 in. And if harm comes of hit, as hit will come if 
 you-uns carry aout what you're aimin' to du, hit'll rest 
 on your souls. You hain't goin' to shake hit offn ye. 
 Hit'll stick. But / cain't stop ye. You're six big, 
 strong fellers, and I'm one little woman. I'd be 
 ashamed to lueke at myself if I was you-u. I'd hide my 
 head quick. Go in. You're as good as murderers, 
 every one of ye. You'll hev to answer for the harm 
 that's in you-uns' hearts, whether you succeed in carry- 
 ing hit aout or not. You're aimin' to. Don't forgit 
 tha-at." 
 
294 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 She threw open the door. She had heard a paroxysm 
 of coughing inside. 
 
 The men trooped in. They had left their lanterns in 
 the wagon, and the room was dark, save for one small 
 lamp that burned on a table in the corner farthest from 
 the bed. 
 
 " You're runnin' a tol'rable big risk," said the little 
 woman reflectively. "He's got hit bad. Hit hain't 
 come aout as hit should, but his face is powerful red. 
 Better not go nearer the bed than you're forced. I 
 hain't wantin' ye to ketch hit, though hit wouldn't be no 
 more 'n a likely judgment if every one of you-uns was 
 daown with hit afore a fortnight." 
 
 Evidently the men themselves were not eager to 
 "ketch hit." They stood just within the door and 
 looked towards the bed, where a flushed face was par- 
 tially hidden by the bed-clothes. A towel bound round 
 the head left but a portion of the face visible, and there 
 was a strong smell of vinegar in the room. 
 
 " Hit's his head he's always complainin' of," said the 
 little woman ; and as she spoke a groan came from the 
 lips of the figure upon the bed. 
 
 " Hit's burstin'," said a hoarse, unnatural voice. 
 
 " Feel like hurtin' ary one that's sufferin' that away ? " 
 said Mrs. Felps significantly. "Them that shows no 
 mercy cain't expect to receive none. Thar is justice, 
 and hit lights on the right head one day." 
 
 Nobody answered her, but John Kisselbaugh pushed 
 forward. 
 
 " Come on," he said savagely. " We cain't stay here 
 all night." 
 
 John was becoming impatient. He was not getting 
 the amusement he had anticipated. He had expected 
 to have an encounter with Norah. It would have done 
 his savage heart good to see the anger change to en- 
 treaty in her eyes, and to be able to trample on her 
 
VISITING THE SIN 295 
 
 feelings with the rough brutality that was a part of his 
 very nature. There was no entreaty in this little 
 woman's eyes. 
 
 "Come on," he repeated. "Three of ye ketch hold 
 of the head. We-uns '11 take the foot o' the bed." 
 
 It was noticeable that the position of danger, where 
 there was most chance of coming in contact with the 
 patient, was assigned to his companions. John Kissel- 
 baugh walked to the foot of the bed. He handled it 
 cautiously. The object of the visitors was evidently to 
 carry the sick man away on the bed as he lay. 
 
 Mrs. Felps moved forward as the men advanced, and, 
 purposely or not, stood between the light and the bed. 
 The face of the patient, half covered by the wet towel, 
 was in shadow. As the men came nearer, another groan 
 burst from the lips that were almost buried in the pil- 
 low. Then an arm, showing a man's coat-sleeve, was 
 thrown outside the bed-clothes. 
 
 "Lay still, cain't ye," muttered the man nearest to 
 that moving arm. " I hain't goin' to hev you-u touch 
 me." 
 
 Instantly, as if in answer, the arm moved again, and 
 a hand for a moment grasped his with feverish touch. 
 He started back with a yell. 
 
 " Here, hurry, and let's git hit over," he shouted. " I 
 hain't aimin' to ketch hit. He's plumb crazy." 
 
 "He's been that away for a day or two naow," said 
 Mrs. Felps quietly. "Better leave him to us women. 
 We-uns hain't scart." 
 
 A savage oath was the answer. The six men settled 
 to their task. As they lifted the bed, the little woman 
 slipped in front of them and passed into the outer room. 
 When they came through, the front door was open, and 
 the light extinguished. 
 
 "Thar's a plumb fresh wind blowin'," she said. 
 " Hit's too much for a body's lamp. You-uns have got 
 a lantern though." 
 
296 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 They came out into the darkness. The night was 
 very heavy. It took some moments to hoist their bur- 
 den into the wagon. Mrs. Felps stood by. When the 
 bed was in position, she came alongside. 
 
 "Here, let me make him comfortable," she said. "/ 
 hain't afraid to touch him." 
 
 She smoothed the bed-clothes, and put her hand 
 gently on the flushed face. 
 
 " I'll be atter you in a flash, honey." 
 
 The words reached none but the ear for which they 
 were intended. 
 
 The restless hand of the patient came suddenly out 
 from beneath the coverlet, and closed over the little 
 woman's. 
 
 " No, no ! Stay with him ! They cain't hurt me. I 
 hain't afraid. Promise ! " 
 
 The hand held her fast. 
 
 "All right," she said, "I'll look atter him." And the 
 arm tossed restlessly again. 
 
 Then the little woman stepped back. 
 
 " You-all are duin' a wrong thing, and you know hit," 
 she said. " But thar hain't no stoppin' ye. You've got 
 to answer for hit though. Don't be forgittin' tha-at." 
 
 "Gitap!" 
 
 John was by the heads of the mules. His whip 
 swished through the air, and came down. The animals 
 jumped, and sprang forward. Then the wagon moved 
 off. There was no more shouting. An oath from John 
 Kisselbagh as the mules stumbled in the darkness was 
 the only sound that broke the silence. Nobody felt 
 like joking now, and nobody felt like riding. There 
 was not a man among them tired enough to prefer a 
 seat in that wagon to using his own legs. 
 
 When Mrs. Felps returned to the cottage, her first act 
 was to open the door of the inner room and look in on 
 Marshall Rutherford. He was sleeping quietly. The 
 
VISITING THE SIN 297 
 
 mother's heart was troubled. Something very like fear 
 was tugging at it as she thought of Norah out there in 
 the wagon. She was sure that, with the exception of 
 John Kisselbaugh, there was not a man among them all 
 who would do the girl harm ; and Wash, sober or not 
 sober, would give his life for her any day. She was 
 not even afraid that they would wreak their vengeance 
 on her if by any accident they should discover that the 
 small-pox patient they were so laboriously carrying away 
 was Norah Felps. They would be much more likely to 
 stand abashed, ashamed that the girl should witness 
 their unmanly deed. 
 
 Her fear lay in another direction, in the direction of 
 violence offered, not to the girl Norah, but to the man, 
 Marshall Rutherford. The visitors had gone away con- 
 vinced that they were taking with them the nephew of 
 Kennedy Poteet. Whatever fate was destined for the 
 sick man would fall to Norah' s lot. Would they do the 
 girl injury before they discovered that their intended 
 victim was not in their hands ? 
 
 " She'll not tell, no matter what they du," said the 
 mother. " I hain't blamin' her. When a girl's heart's 
 in hit, thar hain't much she'll stick at. But hit hain't 
 ri-ight to leave her. And yit thar's sense in what she 
 said abaout leavin' Marshall. Hit hain't safe. I'm 
 goin' to risk hit for a lee-tie, though. I cain't sit still a 
 minute longer. I'm goin' to fetch Abner." 
 
 The little woman had not been sitting still. She had 
 wandered from one room to the other, now putting things 
 in order around her patient, now clearing the room that 
 had been hastily disarranged. Half an hour had passed 
 since the sound of the wagon wheels died away. Mrs. 
 Felps could no longer bear the strain of inaction. She 
 took a last anxious look at Marshall, extinguished the 
 lamp, and went out of the cottage, locking the door 
 behind her. 
 
298 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 IT would not be true to say that there was any sensa- 
 tion akin to fear in Norah' s heart as she felt the 
 wagon begin to move across the uneven ground. 
 She was too much excited to be afraid. There was a 
 little amusement mingled with her anger against these 
 men. They were taking an immense amount of trouble 
 to carry away a girl who was not for a moment in their 
 thoughts. That is to say, she was not in the thought of 
 the majority of them. Norah knew well that she was 
 always in Wash Forehand's thoughts ; and as for John 
 Kisselbaugh, she was surely in the forefront of his 
 anticipations to-night. She laughed quietly at the man- 
 ner in which his triumph had been turned into absurdity. 
 It was not Norah Felps who would stand as the van- 
 quished party when this night's performance became 
 public property. 
 
 For a long time she lay very quiet, only now and then 
 lifting her head to discover which way the mules were 
 going. This was not an easy matter, for the night was 
 dark. The difference of motion told her when the 
 wagon left the rough track for the high road, and she 
 guessed, rather than saw, that in a few minutes it had 
 turned across towards the Ridges. 
 
 Hitherto only a few words had passed between the 
 men. With the exception of John Kisselbaugh, who 
 was guiding the mules, they kept at a respectful dis- 
 tance from the wagon. Norah smiled again as she 
 realized that she was little likely to be molested by any 
 one of them. 
 
 John's voice broke the silence frequently. Oaths 
 
VISITING THE SIN 299 
 
 dropped from his lips with extraordinary facility. John 
 needed an outlet for his ire, and he found it in his treat- 
 ment of the mules. More than once Norah was almost 
 thrown from the wagon as the animals jumped beneath 
 the heavy lash and brought the wheels over some great 
 stone high enough to tilt the wagon almost on its side. 
 It was after one such dangerous jolt, when the girl had 
 been forced to cling to the wagon-box to avoid being 
 tipped out, that she received her first hint of the desti- 
 nation of the party. She was dragging herself and the 
 bed into position again, when she heard one of the men 
 speak. 
 
 " Got your hospital all fixed up, Wash ? " 
 
 A grunt was the only answer. 
 
 " Coin' to drive right inter the cave ? " 
 
 " I reckon. Thar's room to turn." 
 
 " Aimin' to keep your patient plumb at the opening 
 or give him a private apartment whar he can make up 
 his mind comfortable-like whether he'll rid Big Creek 
 Gap of his presence right away by skippin' inter the 
 land o' shadders or wait till he gits on his feet agin, and 
 gives us the trouble o' he'pin' him aout o' the valley ? 
 He won't be much more' nashadder ary way, I reckon." 
 
 " I calc'lated he'd be better at the furder end o' the 
 cave," replied Wash, speaking in a voice that in spite of 
 its thickness conveyed to Norah' s brain the impression 
 of constraint. "I'm aimin' to make him tol'rable com- 
 fortable. I've dragged a heap o' boxes daown thar, and 
 sot 'em together so's his bed won't hev to lay on the 
 ground. Hit's as much as he can expect," he added 
 argumentatively. "He don't belong to Big Creek ary 
 way, and he hain't no right to put us and ourn in danger. 
 Thar's John now, got young uns of his own. Hit hain't 
 ri-ight that they should suffer for hi-im." 
 
 " They hain't goin' to suffer," said John with an oath. 
 "We-uns are goin' to take care o' that. Hit's your 
 
300 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 undertaking Wash, and you'll hev to run what risk thar 
 is in luekin' atter him. Hit hain't much. You've got 
 to see he has somethin' to eat ; and if he cain't eat hit, 
 that hain't nothin' to nobody. You'll provide him with 
 guede victuals while he hangs on, and when he takes 
 himself off we'll bury him decent, right thar in the cave, 
 and nobody won't be a bit the worse. Hit's more'n ary 
 man of the stock of Kennedy Poteet deserves." 
 
 " I reckon," was the unanimous answer. 
 
 "So that's the game, is hit?" said Norah. "Very 
 gue-ude. We'll trouble you-uns to feed your patient as 
 long as you li-ike, but not to bury him, nor to he'p him 
 aout of Big Creek Gap." 
 
 The blood flamed across the cheeks that had been 
 hastily smeared with the red clay of the district. The 
 girl's heart was beating wildly. So this was the treat- 
 ment they would give a sick and almost dying man. A 
 resting-place in a damp cave, and a grave beneath its 
 floor, was the best Marshall Lane Rutherford could hope 
 for from a village that had no word to say against him 
 save that he was the nephew of Kennedy Poteet, and 
 that he had come to a time of sore need. What wrong 
 had he ever done man or woman among them that 
 they 
 
 Suddenly across the train of thought darted a new 
 idea. The head in the wagon was lifted, and the eyes 
 fairly blazed. It was well nobody was looking that way, 
 or he would surely have seen through the darkness the 
 angry gleam of those eyes. 
 
 " Thar's nary doubt of hit ! " muttered the girl aloud. 
 "Hit's plumb true! Hit's Wash! John Kisselbaugh 
 hain't at the bottom of this at all. Hit's hi-im. He's 
 done planned hit all, and the others are jist he'pin' him. 
 Hit hain't John that's the brute : hit's Wash. And hit's 
 Wash that's got to come with the victuals," she added 
 significantly. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 301 
 
 She understood now, and she did not ask again what 
 harm Marshall Rutherford had done. The men's pro- 
 ceedings took on a new significance for her. 
 
 Her thoughts moved fast. There was much in what 
 she had heard to quicken their activity. She was already 
 turning the information to account. The plans of the 
 men did not suit her ill. A lodging in a cave, and an 
 occasional visit from Wash for the purpose of bringing 
 food, presented a less formidable conclusion to this 
 night's violence than any which she had anticipated. It 
 would even be possible to keep up the delusion for a few 
 days, and let these men believe that Marshall Lane 
 Rutherford was really in their clutches. She did not fear 
 close inspection in the dark recesses of a cave. She had 
 feared being taken beyond the limits of Big Creek 
 Gap, and left in some barn or house where her identity 
 might be at once discovered. This variation of the pro- 
 gramme pleased her well. She gave a short, angry 
 laugh, and smothered it in a groan. 
 
 " Hit' d be a pi-ity not to let 'em carry aout their good 
 intentions," she muttered. "Thar '11 be he-eaps of 
 chances for Wash to bring the victuals afore / tell him 
 to sto-op." 
 
 The girl saw safety for Marshall in the scheme she 
 would help these men to carry out. The next few days 
 were critical ones for him. His presence in the house 
 could easily be hidden, for few were likely to court in- 
 fection by coming near. As for herself, she would be in 
 the cave when Wash made his visits. A peculiar smile 
 crossed her face as she promised herself that these would 
 not be very frequent. 
 
 " He won't be comin' more 'n once a day. He won't 
 be wantin* to come," she said significantly. 
 
 There would be no necessity on any day for her to 
 stay in the cave later than the time when Wash left it. 
 His visit over, she would be free to return to her mother 
 and Marshall. 
 
302 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "Hit's a tol'rable good plan," she said. "Hit's a 
 sight better than jist gittin 'em away for one night. Of 
 course thar's Abner, he'd 'a fought like a tiger for 
 Marshall, and thar's others would 'a come to he'p. 
 We'd 'a got 'em to-morrer. But hit hain't the best plan 
 to hev fightin'. Thar's better ways." 
 
 Her mind was made up to let the men carry their 
 undertaking through to the end. The intermediate 
 stages would afford some amusement, for there were the 
 visits of Wash to be met, and rendered interesting to 
 the philanthropic visitor. As for the climax, the thought 
 of it would cheer many an hour spent in waiting within 
 the cave. 
 
 The girl lifted her head again. As far as she could 
 guess, she was about two miles from home. The wagon 
 had been travelling over a rough cart-track, but now the 
 change of movement told her there was grass beneath 
 the wheels. While she strained her eyes to distinguish 
 the surroundings, the wagon stopped with a jerk. The 
 men drew together to consult, and the light of the three 
 lanterns for a moment revealed the mouth of a cave. 
 
 Norah knew where she was now, and she knew the 
 cave. That is to say, she was fairly well acquainted 
 with its outer passages, and had penetrated into more 
 than one chamber far back in the darkness. A thorough 
 knowledge of it she did not possess, though she had 
 often entered it in company with the boys and girls of 
 Big Creek Gap. It was damp and cold, the more re- 
 mote parts still obstructed by the stream that had once 
 flowed in greater volume through it. The thought of 
 bringing a sick man into such a place filled her with in- 
 dignant horror. She alternately congratulated herself 
 on having averted the catastrophe and glared at Wash 
 Forehand, who stood swinging one of the lanterns and 
 talking in a tone too low to reach her ears. 
 
 "Wait a bit, Wa-ash, wait a bi-it," she said. "We 
 hain't plumb through this business yit." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 303 
 
 She saw Wash take a bottle from his pocket, and put 
 it to his lips. Then he passed it round. The under- 
 taking was one that called for the fortifying of courage. 
 When John Kisselbaugh withdrew his lips from the 
 fiery liquid, he returned to the heads of the mules. 
 
 " Git ap ! " he shouted savagely. 
 
 The animals started with a jump. Wash went ahead 
 with one of the lanterns, the others serving for the rest 
 of the party. 
 
 "He's hurryin' to git his boxes fixed," said the girl, 
 watching the light as far as she could see it. 
 
 The angry laugh had not died out of her eyes or gone 
 from about her mouth. She was thinking of Wash, of 
 the visits he would make to the cave, and of the crown- 
 ing reward of his philanthropy when he should learn 
 that the small-pox patient whom he had lodged on a 
 bedstead of boxes in a damp cave was the girl he would 
 have given the world to propitiate. The thought of 
 that overwhelming climax afforded her so much diver- 
 sion that she turned from it with regret, to meet the 
 more pressing experience of descending the slippery 
 rocks within the mouth of the cave. The opening was 
 wide ; and the mules went sliding down the steep incline, 
 to draw up on the level with a jerk. 
 
 " Drive plumb across, John. You can turn, and back 
 up that away. That's the prong where Wash has got 
 his hospital." 
 
 There was a weak attempt at laughter, some shout- 
 ing, and more swearing ; and then the mules were 
 brought round, and the wagon backed into an opening 
 that narrowed a few yards beyond. 
 
 " Tumble him aout ! " said John brutally. " I've done 
 my part, and you don't ketch me touchin' him agin. 
 You-uns may git him in furder, or leave him thar, for 
 all me." 
 
 " Haul your boxes this away, Wash," shouted one of 
 
304 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 the men. " We-uns hain't powerful eager to carry him 
 back thar." 
 
 There was no answer. Wash was out of hearing. 
 
 " Does the fool think we're goin' to the end of crea- 
 tion with sich a burden as thi-is ? " exclaimed another 
 angrily. " Wa-ash ! Wash Fore-hand ! " 
 
 The low walls sent back the sound, and a groan from 
 the patient added to the weird effect. 
 
 " Tumble him aout, and leave Wash to fix him to his 
 likin'/' said John. " Hit's his look aout : hit hain't 
 we-uns'." 
 
 " Wa-ash ! Whar are ye, you fool ? " 
 
 This time the call provoked an answer. 
 
 " Come on ! " shouted Wash, his voice sounding 
 faintly through the long stretch of rock passage. 
 
 " Come on yourself. We-all hain't comin' in thar." 
 
 The light of the lantern appeared as a glimmering 
 star in the blackness. 
 
 " Hit's all ready," replied Wash, in a voice that had 
 grown more perceptibly thick and unsteady. 
 
 " Haul your boxes up to this end." 
 
 "Icain't." 
 
 The tone was positive. 
 
 "How fur is hit?" 
 
 " Not a great ways." 
 
 Grumbling was loud as the men advanced to the 
 wagon. This night exploit was evidently not altogether 
 to their taste. John Kisselbaugh found it necessary to 
 remain with the mules. 
 
 The long passage they entered narrowed as they 
 proceeded. Towards the end there was barely enough 
 room for the men to pass through with their burden. 
 Once the bed scraped against the sides, and the bearers 
 found themselves obliged to stoop. 
 
 " Be a plumb good place to bury him in," remarked 
 one of them facetiously. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 305 
 
 Twenty yards beyond the narrow part the passage 
 widened out, and the stone floor was comparatively dry. 
 Here, in the open space back from the passage, Wash 
 had arranged his boxes. 
 
 " That'll be a tol'rable good place to put him in," he 
 said thickly. 
 
 " We hain't carin' whar we put him, so long as we 
 git rid of him," was the answer. 
 
 Norah had lain very quiet during the transit from the 
 wagon to the extremity of the passage. She was will- 
 ing to allow the task to be completed as speedily as 
 possible. The sooner it was accomplished, the sooner 
 she would be at liberty to return to the cottage. Not 
 one of the party but had taken too much whisky to 
 attempt another visit to the cave to-night. 
 
 " Thar, that's done ! And a powerful guede thing 
 for Big Creek Gap. A feller like that's best aout o* 
 the way. The rest's your look aout, Wash." 
 
 The speaker straightened himself, and stood back 
 with a sigh of relief. The patient moaned, and threw 
 up one arm. The movement had the effect of 
 hastening the departure of the bearers from the imme- 
 diate vicinity of the bed. One man alone stood his 
 ground. 
 
 The scene in that dark cave was eerie enough to fix 
 itself in the memories of those who were present. The 
 heavy figures of the men stood out of the darkness 
 against the whiteness of the bed-clothes, and the rock 
 walls shone damp where they caught the glare of the 
 lantern. The wild eyes of the patient travelled from 
 one face to another with a stare that was disconcerting, 
 and ended by fixing themselves on that of Wash Fore- 
 hand. He moved nearer to the bed, a little unsteady 
 on his feet and uncertain in his general movements. 
 
 "All right. Go ahead," he said. "I'm jist goin' to 
 stop to put some victuals near him. He shain't say 
 
306 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 thar was nothin' to eat, if so be he should feel like 
 hevin' a snack." 
 
 A bottle of milk and the remains of the whisky were 
 drawn laboriously from the speaker's pocket and placed 
 near the bed. A hunch of corn bread followed, and 
 then the young man stood for a moment in silence. 
 
 " Come on, Wash. We hain't aimin' to stay here all 
 night." 
 
 They were already moving off. 
 
 "All right. I'm coming," was the answer ; but Wash 
 did not stir. 
 
 His hands were clenched, and his lips moved excitedly, 
 though no sound came from them. He waited until the 
 footsteps grew distant, and the light of the lantern 
 could no longer be seen. Then quickly, as if action 
 and words were forced from him, Wash leant over the 
 bed. 
 
 " You thought you'd git the best of me, didn't you ? " 
 he said, in a low, hoarse voice. " You're aimin' to git 
 well and lay claim to her, but you hain't goin' to hev 
 her. / know well enough she'll never hev me naow. 
 She might, if your cursed face hadn't never come 
 between us. She won't now. But she hain't for you. 
 I'll fix you-u!" 
 
 The last words came through his set teeth. A 
 moment later he lifted his head and swung his light into 
 the passage down which the others had disappeared. 
 
 The passion and hate in the action and the words for 
 an instant stunned the girl. They revealed to her the 
 reality of the danger that threatened Marshall Lane 
 Rutherford. For a time her anger against Wash was 
 swallowed up in fear. Such passion as this was not 
 altogether a thing to be laughed at. It was a real peril, 
 to be acknowledged and met squarely. 
 
 It was of no possible harm to herself that Norah was 
 thinking. Her fears were all for Marshall. They 
 
VISITING THE SIN 307 
 
 made her cautious. She determined to remain still until 
 all likelihood of Wash Forehand's return was at an end. 
 The footsteps of the men could no longer be heard, but 
 those of Wash were loud. What was he lingering for ? 
 
 She sat up, and strained her eyes to see into the 
 blackness. It was no use. The lantern had gone 
 beyond the first turn, and the passage was dark as 
 death. 
 
 " Wait a bit," said the girl softly. " I hain't come 
 here without the means of gittin* a light." 
 
 All was still in the cave. The men must before this 
 have reached the opening. Norah was wondering 
 whether Wash had joined them, when there came a 
 heavy, booming sound, and the noise of falling rock. 
 She started up in alarm. The sounds were very close. 
 
 " He's done blowed the passage up ! " 
 
 A horror fell upon her, horror of the deed rather 
 than of the danger. She remembered the low, narrow 
 passage through which she had passed a few minutes 
 ago. It would be easy to block up that opening with 
 debris, so that a sick man would be virtually buried alive. 
 
 "He's done hit, the murderer ! " 
 
 Even then she was not afraid for herself. She was 
 still thinking of Marshall. 
 
 She could hear nothing now but the occasional fall of 
 a loose bit of rock. The passage was too securely 
 blocked for sounds easily to make their way through. 
 For a full minute she sat perfectly still, listening and 
 thinking. Then, as with a flash of light, the knowledge 
 of the danger dawned upon her. 
 
 "I'm plumb blocked in, and mammy don't know which 
 away we come ! " 
 
 Her face grew white beneath its smearing of clay. 
 To sit still longer was an impossibility. She felt choked, 
 oppressed with the darkness, and this sensation of 
 being buried alive. She wanted to scream, to call out 
 
308 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 to Wash to come back and remove that mass of rock 
 which, she was sure, was barring the way. She would 
 have done it, but like a hand laid upon her lips came the 
 thought of the passion in Wash Forehand's face. It 
 was for Marshall he had planned the fate that had fallen 
 upon her. To let him know that he had been tricked 
 would be to court fresh revenge against his rival. 
 
 " He shain't know. Hit hain't safe," she said. 
 
 But she must do something, and at once, if only to 
 free herself from the horror that had fallen upon her. 
 It was possible that the outlet was not too completely 
 obstructed to allow of passage through it. She struck 
 a match and lit one of the candles she had brought. 
 Then, carrying it carefully, since she had no lantern to 
 put it in, she went out to the passage. The scene of 
 the explosion was only a short distance away. When 
 she had examined the great fallen masses of rock, she 
 realised more fully than before the passion that had 
 driven Wash Forehand to make the deep drills which 
 had been necessary to produce such a catastrophe. 
 
 "He's done gone plumb crazy," she said. 
 
 She gave up all hope of removing those stones. It 
 would have taken strong men, with picks and shovels, to 
 clear away that obstruction, so that she might creep 
 through. With only her own hands to help her the 
 thing was an impossibility. Norah felt the damp heat 
 come out on her face. She was trembling. She put 
 her hand to her forehead and felt the drops of perspira- 
 tion. Then she drew herself up sharply. 
 
 "Lor! Norah Felps," she said aloud, "you hain't 
 come to your last gasp yit ! Mammy's thar. She'll 
 find you. Mammy hain't no fool." 
 
 She went back to the wider part of the cave, and 
 began to examine it. It had no outlet, but through the 
 wall at one end flowed a considerable stream of water. 
 
 " Whar does that git away ? " questioned the girl. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 309 
 
 She followed it as it crossed a corner of the chamber, 
 and then disappeared beneath the opposite wall of rock. 
 
 " Hit must run clar through into another prong," she 
 said. 
 
 She stooped, and put her arm into the water. It 
 came high above her elbow. She could not reach to 
 the bottom. 
 
 " Hit's a deep hole," she said, and turned away with a 
 sigh. 
 
 Then she stood still to think. 
 
 "I'd like tol'rable well to git aout of here afore 
 mammy raises a row," she said. " Hit'd be a sight 
 better that Wash shouldn't know note abaout hit." 
 
 But the minutes wore on, and she was no nearer find- 
 ing a way. The atmosphere in the cave became oppres- 
 sive. There was no longer open communication with 
 the outside air. The girl looked at the candle. 
 
 " Thar hain't enough for you and me," she said, and 
 blew it out. 
 
 Then she groped her way back to the bed, and sat 
 down in the darkness. 
 
3 io VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 " A B ! Ab Poteet ! Open your door right away, 
 
 l\ and let me in ! " 
 
 JL -Lr Mrs. Felps was breathless. She stood by 
 Abner's door, panting. She had run every step of the 
 way from her own house to his, run as she never could 
 have run if her feet had not been urged on by the 
 mingled feeling of fear for Marshall and anxiety about 
 Norah. 
 
 Abner heard her voice, and was quickly at the door. 
 
 "What is hit? Is he worse?" he cried, as he threw 
 it open wide. 
 
 "Hit hain't Marshall hit's Norah!" gasped the 
 little woman. 
 
 He staggered as if he had been struck. 
 
 "Hit hain't touched her? The curse hain't lighted 
 on her?" 
 
 His voice was hoarse and appealing. 
 
 "Lor! man, don't lueke like that," said Mrs. Felps 
 breathlessly. "Hit hain't no curse, unless hit's the 
 curse of evil men. They're curse enough anywhars. 
 Hit's John Kisselbaugh, and Wash Forehand, and a lot 
 more, all on 'em drunk. They've done carried her off, 
 and I don't know whar they've tuk her. Mercy alive, 
 I'm clean done aout ! " 
 
 " Carried her off ? Norah ? " 
 
 To all appearance it would have been more than any 
 man's life was worth to touch her with his little finger 
 if Abner were present. Mrs. Felps looked at his face, 
 and an odd little smile played about her mouth. She 
 sank into a chair, and held her hand to her heart. She 
 had come very fast. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 311 
 
 " Hit's this away, Ab," she said, after a minute's si- 
 lence. "They aimed to take Marshall, carry him 
 away somewhars. They said he was puttin' they-uns 
 in danger, and that sort o' talk. And Norah hadn't no 
 mind to let 'em hev their way. So she jist humped 
 round, and got Marshall into another rueme, and got 
 into his bed, and tricked 'em into thinkin' she was the 
 sick man. They was that drunk they didn't know her 
 from Marshall. And they tuk her off." 
 
 "Tuk Norah off? Whar?" 
 
 Abner's voice rolled like thunder. 
 
 "That's jist what I want you to find aout," said the 
 little woman. "She wouldn't let me foller. 'Thar's 
 Marshall to see to,' she said, and she was that set on 
 my takin' care o' him that I had to go back to the 
 house, and leave them to carry her whar they liked." 
 
 " How long ago was hit ? " asked Abner, his eyes shin- 
 ing, and his face working. 
 
 " Half an hour afore I set aout," she replied. " I've 
 come mighty quick. You'd better foller 'em, Ab. They 
 started to go to the road. I hain't no knowledge whar 
 they went atter that. I was scart to leave Marshall. 
 I'm goin' back this blessed minute." 
 
 " Had they-uns a team ? " asked Abner. 
 
 Yes John's." 
 
 " I'll be atter ye in a minute," he said ; for she was 
 already at the door. 
 
 She had barely gone a hundred yards before he was 
 by her side. He carried a lantern and a heavy axe. 
 
 "What's that for?" asked Mrs. Felps. 
 
 She was not referring to the lantern, and he knew it. 
 
 " Hit'll du to break a head or two with," he said 
 grimly. 
 
 "Lueke a-here, Ab," said Mrs. Felps quietly: "this 
 hain't no time for bloodshed. They won't hurt he-er. 
 They hain't aimin' to hurt he-er. Hit's hi-i 'm. But 
 
3 i2 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 thar might come harm to her all the same, though they 
 hain't aimin' to du hit ; and I want you to go and find 
 her. But you don't want to use that thar. You hain't 
 goin' to fight." 
 
 " You're right," he said slowly, "/hain't no call to 
 shed blood. Thar's been enough shed. But if they've 
 hurt a hair of he-er head " 
 
 " They hain't, Ab they hain't," said the little woman. 
 "Thar hain't none on 'em, 'thout hit's John Kisselbaugh, 
 that would touch her if he knew. But hit hain't safe to 
 let the time go on, and we not knowin' whar she is. 
 Now we'll run. I'm tol'rable rested." 
 
 They did run, but Abner was first at the cottage. 
 
 " Give me the key," he said when they started. " I'll 
 go and see he's all right." 
 
 He had been in to look at Marshall, and was examin- 
 ing the tracks of the wheels by the light of his lantern 
 when Mrs. Felps came up. 
 
 " I'll foller 'em to the road," he said. " Hit hain't 
 hard to see 'em. The ground's tol'rable soft." 
 
 She noticed that he still carried the axe. 
 
 " Goin' to take that ? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes. Hit might be useful," he said. "I hain't 
 goin' to hurt nobody, unless thar's need for her." 
 
 He was already some distance away, following the 
 tracks. Mrs. Felps went into the house. 
 
 " He'll find her Ab '11 find her," she said. " Lor ! 
 he'd foller them tracks to the other side o' creation afore 
 he'd give ur-rp." 
 
 She went into Marshall's room comforted, and for the 
 first time since she started out stood still long enough to 
 take breath. 
 
 When Abner reached the high road, he was puzzled. 
 There were marks of wheels in both directions. A cer- 
 tain instinct made him turn away from the Gap. Reason 
 told him the men would go through the Gap if their 
 
VISITING THE SIN 313 
 
 object was, as he believed, to carry Marshall out of the 
 village. Yet he turned away. And a few yards further 
 on he came to a stone that was ground by the passing 
 of a wagon over its edge. The dust was newly strewn 
 upon the ground. He examined it by the light of his 
 lantern. 
 
 " They've done gone to the Ridges," he said. 
 
 He turned off along the road the wagon had taken. 
 
 If John Kisselbaugh had not driven back by a differ- 
 ent route, he would have met Abner at the outset of the 
 search. He reached his own home at the time when 
 Ab was carefully working his way along the cross-road, 
 stopping often to assure himself that the wagon had not 
 turned aside. He was making slow progress, for the 
 search must be thorough. There were side paths into 
 the woods to be examined, and openings among the trees, 
 into any one of which a wagon could be driven. Abner 
 failed to understand why this road had been selected. 
 It led to hamlets across the hills, but there seemed no 
 reason for choosing it rather than any other. 
 
 The time went on. It was long since he had seen 
 any trace of wagon wheels other than the deep ruts that 
 were always in evidence. He had begun to wish for 
 daylight, and to fear that he had lost the clue, when his 
 light shone on grass newly trampled down. Footsteps 
 had been on it since the night dews fell. He swung his 
 lantern round. Where was he ? 
 
 "The cave!" he ejaculated, and stood still to think. 
 
 It lay a field's length off the road. He knew it well, 
 and went on confidently. 
 
 " Hit would du to put him in," he said meditatively. 
 " But hit was a fool's plan." 
 
 He hardly stopped to notice the marks of the wheels 
 on the long grass. He did not doubt that he had found 
 the goal. 
 
 "Thar's lots of prongs," he said, as he stood within 
 the cave. 
 
314 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Was Norah here still, or had she already gone ? He 
 was sure that she had been here, or rather that the 
 wagon and the men had been here, for the grass round 
 the opening gave evidence of recent trampling. 
 
 " Norah ! " 
 
 The voice rang through the cave, but it failed to 
 penetrate the mass of fallen rock that lay between 
 Abner and the girl he sought. 
 
 He called again and again, and then began a system- 
 atic search. He had already followed several passages 
 to their end before he stepped into the one that pres- 
 ently brought him up short. He stood staring at the 
 fallen stone, letting the light of his lantern flash upon it. 
 
 " That didn't come thar by no ordinary means ; and 
 hit hain't been long thar, neither," he said. 
 
 He stooped to examine the broken rock. 
 
 " If that hain't been blowed up, my name hain't Ab 
 Poteet ! " he ejaculated. " What have they done hit 
 for?" 
 
 He stood scratching his head. Then a thought 
 struck him. He brought the axe down on the floor 
 with a sharp report. 
 
 " The brutes ! " he said. She's behind thar ! " 
 
 Then he raised his voice. 
 
 " Norah ! Norah, girl, are you tha-ar ? " 
 
 He was trembling with excitement. 
 
 Back upon him came the sound of his own voice, 
 hemmed in by the rock walls. Hark ! Was that an 
 answering cry ? 
 
 "I'm shet in! He's done blowed the pas- 
 sage ur-rp ! " 
 
 By the faintness of the sounds he judged of the thick- 
 ness of broken rock between himself and the girl. 
 
 " I'll git you aout. Hit's me, Ab," he said tenderly. 
 
 I was wishin' for you." 
 
 How the words thrilled his heart, and set his nerves 
 
VISITING THE SIN 315 
 
 tingling ! Wishin' for him ! He wanted to wrap the 
 speaker in his strong arms, and promise her that danger 
 should never come near her again. Instead of that, 
 however, the arms began to swing the heavy axe up and 
 down, hewing an opening through the rock. He was 
 glad now that he had brought the implement. 
 
 Abner was a strong man, but that rock soon con- 
 vinced him that he was not likely by this means to 
 stand in Norah' s presence for many hours to come. 
 He lifted his voice again. 
 
 "Is thar plenty of air inside ? " 
 
 " Not a mighty big lot. Hit's tollable 
 used up." 
 
 The voice was brave, but it was fainter than before. 
 The closeness of the air and the strain of waiting 
 were telling upon the girl. Abner stopped those steady 
 blows, and stood up to think. 
 
 " I'm goin' to try another way," he called. " Wait a 
 leetle, Norah. I'll hev you aout afore long." 
 
 "I am waitin'," said the girl, with a little laugh in 
 her voice, but a sob at the end of the laugh. He heard 
 neither. The rock was too thick. But he turned away 
 with a tender compassion in his heart. 
 
 Norah listened for the sound of the axe. It did not 
 come again. The time seemed longer now that those 
 steady strokes had ceased. Had he gone away for 
 help? 
 
 " Abner ! " she called, but there was no answer. 
 
 It was quite dark within her prison, for the girl had 
 not dared again to light the candle. The air was too 
 oppressive already. She felt faint and weak. 
 
 "Thar's nobody but Ab," she said. "Mammy hain't 
 told nary other person." 
 
 The thought comforted her, and helped to keep her 
 head steady. Many minutes passed. They seemed like 
 hours to Norah. She groped her way back to the open 
 
316 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 chamber, the air was less oppressive there, and stood 
 straining her ears for the sound of Abner's return. 
 She wondered whether it was the effect of the failing 
 of the air within the chamber that she heard strange 
 noises about her. There was a splashing of water 
 somewhere in the distance, and then a sound of scram- 
 bling and climbing. 
 
 " Norah, dear, are you thar ? " 
 
 "Ab! OAb! I'm so glad!" 
 
 She struck a light recklessly, for his had been 
 extinguished. 
 
 He was standing in the chamber, dripping and dazed. 
 
 " How did you come in ? " she asked, making her way 
 swiftly towards him. 
 
 " Through thar ! " he said, pointing to the hole down 
 which the water poured slowly. " Hit leads into another 
 prong." 
 
 He was by her side a moment later, holding her hand. 
 
 " You hain't hurt, Norah ? " he asked. " Them brutes 
 hain't touched you ? " 
 
 " They touch me ! " 
 
 Her head was tossed proudly. 
 
 He looked into her face for a moment, and then bent 
 forward and touched it tenderly with one wet finger. 
 
 " Thank God I found you afore it was too late," he 
 said solemnly. "Thar's time enough to deal with them 
 atter I git you aout." 
 
 She laughed, an unsteady laugh. 
 
 " I'll du the dealin' thar," she said. 
 
 He gave her one long, wistful look, and turned away. 
 His eyes were searching the floor of the cave. 
 
 " Better put that candle aout," he said. " I've got to 
 light the lantern." 
 
 He had been carrying it in his hand. Now he lit it 
 and went to the part of the chamber where the water 
 flowed in. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 317 
 
 " I'm goin' to set hit runnin' another way for a piece," 
 he said. 
 
 The strong arm began to swing lustily. Abner was 
 hewing a channel towards a lower level of the chamber. 
 It would draw off the water, and prevent it from flowing 
 into the hole by which he had entered. The girl 
 watched him for a minute, and then came forward and 
 held the lantern. The air was becoming more oppres- 
 sive. Abner worked with the energy born of hope and 
 necessity. It was but a small ridge of rock that must 
 be cut through before the water would flow into the new 
 channel, and descend to a lower part of the chamber. 
 It would not again seek its former outlet until it had 
 rilled the depression. Before he had finished, the light 
 was growing dim, and the arms of the girl powerless. 
 She had been in the close air a long time. 
 
 "Thar!" 
 
 The water was turned from its course. It went suck- 
 ing down through the cut. A feeble light yet glimmered 
 in the lantern. Abner sprang to the hole through which 
 he had come, and with his hat began baling out the 
 water. He kept up the effort till the light almost went 
 out. 
 
 " We've got to go, dear," he said, turning to Norah. 
 " You'll git wet, but thar hain't no danger now. The 
 water hain't powerful deep." 
 
 She staggered towards him, and put her hand in his. 
 He took it in a firm grasp, and extinguished the last 
 flicker of light. Then she felt his arm about her, and 
 the next moment found herself in the water. 
 
 " We're through. You hain't hurt, are you ? " 
 
 He was holding her tightly, and trying to see into her 
 face. They were on the dry rock again, dripping and 
 breathless. It had been but a short rush through the 
 pool, for now that the water had stopped coming in that 
 direction, the stream beyond had run almost dry. When 
 Abner came through it, there was much water in it. 
 
3i8 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " No, I hain't hurt. Whar are we ? " 
 
 " In the next prong. We can walk plumb aout of 
 hit to the open air." 
 
 He waited a minute, still keeping his arm about her. 
 He could not see her. 
 
 " Can you stand while I light the lantern ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said ; but she staggered when the arm 
 was removed. 
 
 The first faint streak of dawn was in the sky when 
 Abner and Norah walked up to the door of the cottage. 
 Abner held the girl's hand in his. There was a light on 
 his face. 
 
 " Hit hain't safe to let her go with they-uns agin," 
 he said, as Mrs. Felps came to the door. " Thar was 
 danger." 
 
 The colour had not yet returned to the girl's face. 
 
 " Why, Norah ! " said the little woman tenderly. 
 
 " Hit's all right, mammy. Is Marshall safe ? " said 
 the girl. 
 
 " He's sleepin' yit," replied her mother. " Come in, 
 Abner." 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " No. I'm goin' back," he said. 
 
 "Ab!" 
 
 It was Norah who spoke. 
 
 He stopped directly. 
 
 " Don't tell ary person of this night's work," said the 
 girl. " Leave John Kisselbaugh and Wash alone." 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 "Ab!" 
 
 He turned to her with a look in his eyes that she did 
 not understand. She came forward a step, and laid her 
 hand on his arm. 
 
 " Hit's for him, Ab." 
 
 Then Abner lifted his lantern, and let its light fall on 
 her face. She did not turn her eyes away, only a smile 
 came to her lips. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 319 
 
 " Hit hain't safe," she said. " Hit hain't safe neither 
 for you nor hi-im. And besides," she added, with a mis- 
 chievous light dawning in her eyes, "I'm goin* to deal 
 with 'em myself, with one of 'em, anyway." 
 
 He lowered the lantern. 
 
 " I want them to think they have succeeded," she 
 continued. " I hain't wantin' to hev all this bother for 
 note. Hit'll be plumb worth hit all to see 'em when 
 they know. Hit'll be better 'n blows." 
 
 He was looking at her steadily. 
 
 "Hit's jist as you say," he responded at last. 
 
 " You are good," she said. " Mammy," turning to 
 Mrs. Felps, "you done the best thing when you sent 
 Ab. You wouldn't 'a seed me comin' back naow if hit 
 hadn't been for hi-im." 
 
 The little woman laid her hand on Norah's arm. 
 
 "Come in, honey," she said. "And, Ab, you go 
 home and git them wet clothes offn you. You hain't 
 neither of ye fit to du no more talkin'." 
 
320 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 WASH FOREHAND was sober. It was the 
 first time this could have been said of him 
 since the morning when Will Hollingsworth 
 paid him an early visit. He was sober after ten days of 
 delusion and passion. Those ten days were pursuing 
 him insistently, making their personality aggressively 
 prominent. They would not permit him to go back to 
 the point whence they started out from the level round 
 of his life, and changed it into a turmoil of passionate 
 hatred. He would gladly have forgotten them, but 
 they protested. It would have been easier to forget all 
 that came before. 
 
 Wash had not returned to the cave, though a week 
 had passed since he left his patient there. More than 
 once he had gloated over the thought of what lay 
 sealed up at the further end but that was before he 
 was sober. He did not gloat now. He wanted to for- 
 get, but he could not. Wash was not fierce of nature, 
 except when passion seized him or drink possessed him. 
 When both worked together, he could be dangerous. 
 For the time being passion was dead, burnt out. 
 And he had left the drink alone for twenty-four hours. 
 
 The story of his night adventure had gone abroad. 
 Wash had not told of it, but John Kisselbaugh and the 
 others had been less reticent. It was an open secret 
 that Marshall Lane Rutherford had been carried off by 
 force, and placed where he would be less of a menace 
 to the village than in the house of Mrs. Felps. Just 
 where that was, nobody in Big Creek Gap could have 
 told. On this point the conspirators kept their own 
 counsel. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 321 
 
 There were many who were curious. Contrary to 
 Naomi's expectations, Mrs. Felps had visitors in plenty. 
 She sent them all off with the assurance that "thar 
 warn't nothin' to tell only what they knew a'ready, and 
 the house warn't healthy for nobody to come into. If 
 they wanted to know the up and daown of hit all, hit 
 was easy enough told. Big Creek was all for hitself. 
 Hit had a mighty straight law and gospel that a babe 
 could understand. 'Lue-uke aout for we-uns,' that was 
 abaout the go of hit ; and if we-uns have got a tol'rable 
 good kind of a place to live in, or ary other likely thing 
 belongin' to us, take plumb good care to keep hit for 
 we-uns' benefit. Ourn mustn't lose nothin' for out- 
 siders. Think of we-uns, and not of ary poor sufferer 
 that's dependin' for his life on the kindness that's in 
 his feller-men. Lor," continued the little woman 
 sharply, " thar hain't no need to come and ask me what 
 happened. What is hit that's likely to happen when 
 t bar's one sick man, helpless and weak, and six great 
 powerful fellers bent on protectin' themselves agin him ? 
 You-uns can tell what happened as good as I can. 
 Mercy sakes ! go home, and rejoice that you live in Big 
 Creek Gap, whar thar hain't a mite o' clanger that ary 
 person will ever be injured through hevin' too much 
 compassion ! " 
 
 Nobody got further than the threshold of the cottage. 
 The door was kept locked. 
 
 " Hit hain't safe to leave doors undone in Big Creek," 
 said Mrs. Felps significantly. 
 
 Norah was not visible, on the day after the exploit, or 
 any other. She sat by Marshall's side, watching the 
 balance waver between life and death, and helping, by 
 her care, to turn the scale in the right direction. Of 
 late she was meeting with her reward. In spite of the 
 absence of medical aid, Marshall was improving. 
 
 The eyes that had before looked at her with a puz- 
 
322 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 zled reaching after something to hold by had recogni- 
 tion in them now. Marshall found the change from his 
 cousin's laborious nursing to the light touch and sooth- 
 ing voice of this girl a tremendous improvement. He 
 watched her with a new feeling of interest. It was 
 Abner who told him what he owed to her courage and 
 readiness of resource. The information almost caused 
 a relapse. Marshall's eyes grew dangerously bright. 
 She laughed into them when he tried to thank her, and 
 to express some of his indignation at the same time. 
 
 " Lor! thar hain't no need for we-uns to git excited," 
 she said. " We hain't come plumb to the end yit." 
 
 It was a step towards the end when Mrs. Felps, after 
 a cheerful word to her patient, left the cottage while 
 the dew was yet on the grass. She had not been out 
 of the house since she ran in the darkness to Abner' s 
 cabin. She lifted her head, and took in a long breath of 
 the cool morning air. Then she turned, and almost ran 
 into Abner's arms. He was coming to the cottage. 
 He came every day now. 
 
 " Go in and lue-uke atter Norah," she said. " You 
 can be useful if ary person should knock at the door." 
 
 She understood the expression of his eyes, and the 
 alacrity with which he covered the space between him- 
 self and the house. Abner would have started unques- 
 tioningly for the other end of the earth if he had been 
 told that thereby he could serve Norah. 
 
 There was a motherly look on the little woman's face 
 as she moved away. 
 
 " Poor feller ! " she said softly. 
 
 She was not thinking of Wash Forehand, though it 
 was Wash she was going to see. 
 
 Perhaps it was that motherly look, which had not yet 
 faded from her face, that made a girl stop sharply, and 
 turn back after she had passed her. Naomi Mozingo 
 was not in the habit of exchanging many words with 
 
VISITING THE SIN 323 
 
 Mrs. Felps. But when the heart is sore, habit's fetters 
 lose strength. 
 
 " Mrs Felps ! " she said, in a voice that was both in- 
 sistent and pleading. 
 
 The little woman stopped, and turned about. She 
 did not speak, however. She had nothing to say to this 
 girl whose tall, shapely figure towered above her. 
 
 "Mrs. Felps," Naomi repeated, and now the sharp 
 gaze of the listener had discovered the dark rings round 
 the girl's eyes, "will you tell me whether you have had 
 any news of your patient yet ? " 
 
 "What news should I have?" inquired Mrs. Felps 
 wonderingly. " Hit's you that should be able to tell me 
 what has become of him." 
 
 An expression of pain passed over the girl's face. 
 
 " Mrs. Felps," she said, " I have had naught to do 
 with this. Believe me, I am as sorry as you can be for 
 what has happened ; and I know as little what has be- 
 come of Marshall Rutherford." 
 
 A queer little smile played about Mrs. Felps' s lips. 
 
 "Darter," she said, "did you ever roll a stone up hill 
 till hit come to the top, and then let hit go ? Hit didn't 
 take no rollin' to send hit clar daown the other side, but 
 hit warn't plumb true that you hadn't note to du with 
 the fallin'. Them that starts the stone rollin' has a 
 si-ight to du with whar it lands, and with the heads hit 
 breaks goin' daown atter they're tuk their hands offn 
 hit." 
 
 There was no doubt about the pain in the eyes that 
 looked down into the speaker's. 
 
 " I never meant that the stone should fall as it did," 
 said the girl slowly. "I sought justice, not cruelty." 
 
 She turned away, and went with swift steps towards 
 the valley road. And when Mrs. Felps resumed her 
 walk she was no longer conscious of the dew sparkling 
 upon the grass. She was only conscious of the suffer- 
 ing in a girl's eyes. 
 
324 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Hit hain't payin', darter," she said. "And hit won't 
 never pay." 
 
 The conviction was deepened when she came upon 
 Wash Forehand, standing outside his barn, and looking 
 off into vacancy. His eyes had a worried, hunted look 
 in them. He started when he saw her standing before 
 him. 
 
 " Was you luekin' back at the gue-ude things you'd 
 done, Wash, or forrard to the consequences that was a 
 comin' ? " asked the little woman quietly 
 
 He moved uneasily, but did not speak. 
 
 "Wash," continued the speaker, "whar's that sick 
 person you tuk away yesterday was a week ? " 
 
 He turned his back on her. He could not bear the 
 scrutiny of those bright eyes. 
 
 " Whar did you carry that bed o' mine ? " continued 
 the visitor. "You hain't no right to tha-at, Wa-ash, 
 whatever you may think you hev to the life of the one 
 that was lay in' on hit." 
 
 "If you don't git that bed back, I'll make the loss 
 good," he said hoarsely. 
 
 " Will you make all the loss you've done me good ? " 
 she asked sharply. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Then, Wash Forehand, give me back my girl." 
 The little woman's voice was low and earnest. " Du you 
 know who you tuk away by force that night, and carried 
 nobody knows whar ? Du you know who was a layin' 
 on that thar bed ? Wash, thar was no human compas- 
 sion left in your heart nor ary one o' the hearts o' the 
 men that was with you. You warn't ashamed to act 
 worse 'n the brutes. But thar was enough compassion 
 in a girl's heart to make her stop your cruelty. You 
 thought you tuk Marshall Rutherford on that thar bed. 
 Wash Forehand, hit was Norah you tuk, my darter, 
 Give me back my girl ! " 
 
VISITING THE SIN 325 
 
 She stopped and looked at him. He had turned 
 towards her, his face white and horror-stricken. There 
 was no attempt to hide it now. 
 
 " Norah ! " 
 
 "Yes. What have you done with her? Give me 
 back my girl." 
 
 He put up his hand to his head in a dazed fashion. 
 
 " Norah ! " he said again. Then his eyes fell on the 
 mother's face. " Give her back to you ? " he said. " I 
 
 The last word was a cry of despair. 
 
 " Why not ? You said you would make good my 
 loss!" 
 
 "I cain't," he cried again. " She's dead! " 
 
 Even as he spoke, he was racing across the fields like 
 one frantic. 
 
 " He's goin' to the cave," said Mrs. Felps. 
 
 She watched him out of sight, and then retraced her 
 steps toward her own house. 
 
 " Hit hain't pay in'," she said. 
 
 She would have been more sure of it if she could 
 have seen Wash tearing at the stones and rubbish within 
 the cave, working like a madman to remove the rock he 
 had taken so much pains to bring down. Every now 
 and then he would stop, while a girl's name rang 
 through the dark passages, the sound coming back upon 
 him heavy and hopeless. 
 
 " Norah ! Norah, my girl, I warn't aimin' to du 
 hit!" 
 
 His hands were bleeding from their reckless contact 
 with the sharp edges of the rocks. He had borrowed a 
 lantern and shovel from the nearest house, but he did 
 not stay for implements when his fingers could do more 
 rapid execution. He worked desperately, thrusting his 
 hands between great lumps of stone that he hurled out 
 of his way with headlong haste. 
 
326 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Streams of perspiration poured down his face. 
 Every muscle was strained to its utmost. Masses of 
 rock that under ordinary circumstances would have re- 
 quired three men to move them, yielded before the long- 
 continued, savage output of strength, and parted inch 
 by inch from their fellows, till he could worm his way 
 behind them, and come so much the nearer to whatever 
 lay prisoned in the rock chamber beyond those tons of 
 inert matter. As each vantage-point was gained, the 
 wild cry, " Norah ! Norah, girl ! " now hoarse and 
 pleading, now loud and passionate, disturbed the close 
 air. 
 
 Once or twice Wash threaded his way out from the 
 rock heap, and started for the mouth of the cave, almost 
 resolved to call for help. It might not yet be too late 
 to save her. Every moment was precious. But he 
 never reached the daylight. The thought of what would 
 greet the workers when they had opened up a way 
 through the obstruction came like a stretched-out arm 
 to bar his progress. The secret of that rock chamber 
 was as yet all his own. The explosion had, indeed, been 
 heard outside ; but the men were at the time some dis- 
 tance away, and were moreover too thoroughly intoxi- 
 cated to give the sound more than passing notice. 
 
 "That was a powerful near go," Wash had said as he 
 joined them a few minutes later. "A great chunk of 
 rock bigger 'n ary one of we-uns come near fallin' plumb 
 on my head. Hear it thunder daown ? " 
 
 They had accepted his explanation, and his secret 
 remained undiscovered. 
 
 What was to follow the revelation which awaited the 
 first man who passed beyond that barrier ? The ques- 
 tion deterred Wash from bringing witnesses upon the 
 scene. He came back and resumed his efforts, working 
 gradually nearer to the object of his desire and dread. 
 
 It was early morning when he disappeared within the 
 
VISITING THE SIN 327 
 
 yawning mouth of the cave. Darkness had swept 
 slowly down and settled upon Big Creek Gap when he 
 drew himself clear of the rubbish, and stood gasping 
 for breath. The veins stood out dark on his forehead. 
 His face was purple. He had succeeded in opening an 
 irregular passage more than half-way through that un- 
 yielding mass. The wall between him and the prison 
 he had made had become thin. If the breath of life yet 
 lingered beyond, he ought now to be able to win 
 response to his pleadings. They had been loud and 
 prolonged ; in turn, passionate, humble, beseeching, de- 
 spairing. They had been shouted with all the energy 
 of lungs that almost rent themselves in the effort, but 
 they had met with no answering shout. Now he drew 
 back into the freer space of the passage, and stood 
 dazed, hopeless, gasping and trembling. 
 
 " She's dead ! " he said, in a low, hoarse voice. " I've 
 done killed her, and I wouldn't 'a hurt a hair of her head 
 to save my life." 
 
 Then a passion of remorse and longing seized him. 
 
 " Norah ! Norah, my girl ! " he shouted, in a voice that 
 went beating against the damp walls. " Cain't you say 
 one little word ? I warn't aimin' to do hit, Norah, 
 I warn't" 
 
 He was shaking with a tempest of horror and grief. 
 
 "What would you hev me say to a murderer?" 
 
 Where did it come from, the low, thrilling whisper 
 that sent the blood running like fire through his veins ? 
 It was her voice, Norah' s. 
 
 Instinctively he turned towards the prison chamber, 
 The sound must come from thence, though his ears told 
 him it did not. 
 
 " Norah ! Is hit you ? Are you alive in thar ? " 
 
 It was no wonder his voice was hoarse. His heart 
 was beating so wildly. 
 
 " Alive in thar ! Wash Forehand, du you dare to ask 
 that, you ? " 
 
328 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 He faced sharply round. The sound came unmistak- 
 ably from behind. 
 
 " What is hit ? " he cried in an awe-struck tone, his 
 hand uplifted in fear. 
 
 A shadowy figure could be dimly discerned in the 
 furthermost stretches of the light thrown by his lantern, 
 a figure suggestive of Norah, or could it be her spirit ? 
 White, swaying, ethereal, it came a step towards him, and 
 stopped. 
 
 " You call on a live girl," said the voice, in tones low 
 and clear. " Hit's not alive that the murderer sees his 
 victim." 
 
 He shrank from those low, penetrating tones. They 
 chilled him to the heart. 
 
 " I left food and drink," he pleaded ; "and I didn't 
 know hit was you-u." 
 
 The last words were a wail. 
 
 " Lue-uke at me ! Lue-uke, Wash Forehand." 
 
 The girl had come a few steps nearer. The light of 
 the lantern fell upon her. There was something ghostly, 
 unreal, in her appearance in that dark cave. She need 
 not have told him to look. He could not have turned 
 his eyes from her if he had tried. 
 
 "Wash Forehand," she continued, "you thought you 
 tuk a sick man in thar. You tuk me and you set to 
 work to murder me." 
 
 "No, no, I didn't!" cried Wash; and the words 
 were almost a shriek. " I never aimed to du hit. I 
 wouldn't " 
 
 " You blowed up the rock, and left me thar with less 'n 
 enough air to last twenty-four hours," interrupted the 
 girl, in the same low, vibrating voice that never changed 
 its tone, but that thrilled through and through the lis- 
 tener, at one moment setting his blood on fire and the 
 next sending it back to his heart with an icy chill. 
 "Afore you woke from that drunken sleep atter you 
 
VISITING THE SIN 329 
 
 done shet me in, the air inside thar was plumb gone. 
 Hit was chokin' me. I never drawed a breath of hit 
 atter." 
 
 A cry, loud and long, rang through the cave. 
 
 "I done killed her! Thar hain't no hope! She's 
 dead ! Norah's dead ! " 
 
 He had been hoping against hope all day. Now the 
 certainty of Norah's death seized upon him, pressed 
 itself into his consciousness. " I never drawed a breath 
 of hit atter." The words haunted him. He saw the 
 girl he loved fighting for breath in the dark prison he 
 had made, not for her, oh, not for her. She was lying 
 there at that moment, dead ; and her spirit had come to 
 accuse him. A terror of that presence in the passage 
 seized him. It was so like Norah, yet it was cold to his 
 pleading. He turned and dashed in among the rocks, 
 heedlessly bruising himself against them. He was 
 maddened by the despair that held him in its grip, and 
 by the consciousness of the figure standing motionless 
 behind him. He had no remembrance of the obstruc- 
 tions that lay in his way. His one thought was to get 
 as far as possible from that accusing voice. 
 
 It was no wonder that he stumbled, no wonder that 
 he was hurled forward upon the edge of a great piece 
 of rock. The blow stunned him. It came with resist- 
 less force, as if the inanimate stone had become an 
 intelligent agent, dealing out retribution for the crime 
 that now met him face to face. 
 
 He was too much dazed to know that the lantern had 
 fallen from his hand ; but when he lifted his head, from 
 which the blood was trickling, he found himself in 
 darkness. The pain of the blow helped to bewilder him 
 further. He could not have told whether he had fallen, 
 or whether some mysterious force, emanating from that 
 presence in the passage behind, had been exerted against 
 him. The superstitions that were part of the air he 
 
330 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 breathed took hold of him. He did not try to rise, but 
 lay trembling. And while he lay, he heard again the 
 voice that now was full of terror to him. 
 
 "Wash Forehand," it said, "you hadn't no pity, and 
 you cain't expect none. You're plumb guilty of 
 murder. Thar was murder in your heart." 
 
 The sounds were approaching. 
 
 "Thar was murder in your heart," the voice con- 
 tinued, " and that murder you aimed to du is writ down 
 agin you. You've got to answer for hit, because you 
 done give hit a place in your heart." 
 
 " I warn't aimin' at murderin' you" 
 
 It was a moan of dissent and deprecation. 
 
 " You done what you warn't aimin' to du that night, 
 but you didn't du no worse than you was aimin' to du," 
 continued the voice. "Wash Wash Forehand, thar's 
 lives that are white and clean by the side of yourn that's 
 pursued by ha'nts and by judgments. How axe you goin' 
 to escape, you, a murderer of the sick and helpless ? " 
 
 "I hain't escapin'." 
 
 " No, and you hain't goin' to escape," said that low, 
 relentless voice, every tone of which went to his heart. 
 "Hit's easy to sin, plumb easy, but hit hain't easy 
 to face what comes atter. You're facin' hit, Wash." 
 
 She was very close to him now. She could hear his 
 breath coming heavily. 
 
 " I know hit," he said despairingly. 
 
 " And you've got to face hit. Wash Forehand, you 
 done had your will on me-e. Naow hit's my turn." 
 
 He groaned. 
 
 "Wash!" 
 
 She was so near now that he fancied he could discern 
 the whiteness of her form in the darkness. He was 
 trembling violently. 
 
 " You've got to swar what I tell you, to swar hit, 
 and keep to hit," she continued, in the same low, 
 thrilling tone. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 331 
 
 " I will," he said humbly. 
 
 " You've harboured hatred in your heart agin Marshall 
 Rutherford," she went on. " You tried to murder him. 
 You've got to swar that you'll stand between him and 
 evil all the days of your life." 
 
 I cain't." 
 
 He struggled to rise, to protest, to do anything to free 
 himself from this unwelcome compulsion. 
 
 "You've got to," persisted the girl. "Wash Fore- 
 hand, you cain't he'p yourself. You done blowed up 
 that rock and left me in thar to die. You cain't stand 
 aout agin me-e." 
 
 He knew it. The resistless power of a guilty con- 
 science brought home to him every word that voice 
 uttered. The strange presence was so near to him now 
 that it seemed almost by his side. By a great effort he 
 got on his feet, and stood at bay. 
 
 " I warn't aimin' to kill you-u," he said hoarsely. " I 
 couldn't have hurt Norah. I loved her." 
 
 A cold, hard laugh rang in his ears. He felt a chill 
 hand on his. 
 
 " Love don't act that away. Love don't hu-urt : hit 
 he'ps." 
 
 Wash shrank back from touch and words. 
 
 "What are you?" he cried. "You're not Norah. 
 She was warm, and not like this." 
 
 " If you wanted Norah, what did you kill her for ? " 
 
 The cry was bitter enough to shake the girl herself, 
 though she had steeled herself against compassion. 
 But she had come here for a purpose, and it should not 
 fail of accomplishment. She waited a moment, and 
 then Wash felt that cold touch again. 
 
 "Swar," she said. "Swar that you'll never touch 
 Marshall Rutherford or Abner to du them hurt, and that 
 if ary other should aim to hurt them, you'll defend them 
 with your life. Swar hit, Wash." 
 
332 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because the girl you done shet in thar to die tells 
 you." 
 
 Was it fear, or the thrill of those words that won ? 
 " The girl he had shet in thar to die." He promised, 
 swore as solemnly as she could desire, his breath coming 
 in quick gasps as he spoke the words. 
 
 And then he waited for the next development, for the 
 repetition of the touch or the voice. He waited in vain. 
 He was alone in the cave. 
 
 It was long after those last words had been spoken 
 when Wash gathered together his scattered senses and 
 felt for the lantern. He lit it again, and looked about 
 him. The cave was empty. The blood from his wound 
 had trickled down upon his face and his clothing, and 
 he trembled in every limb. Nevertheless he turned 
 again to his task. 
 
 " I'm goin' through that thar rock," he said. " I'm 
 goin' through, and I'm goin' to bury her." 
 
 He shuddered, and went wearily out from among the 
 rocks to look for his shovel. 
 
 And while he worked and trembled, the girl whose 
 dead body he was expecting to find behind that barrier 
 was back in safety at the cottage. She was divesting 
 herself of her outer clothing. 
 
 " He's done promised, mammy," she said. " He'll 
 keep to hit. He's swore to hit, and he's scart to death." 
 
 There was no laughter in her eyes now. There had 
 been when she started for the cave. 
 
 " Hit hain't payin', honey," said Mrs. Felps, when she 
 had heard the story. 
 
 " No, mammy." 
 
 The girl stooped suddenly, and kissed the little 
 woman's forehead. Then she went into the other room, 
 and a pair of blue eyes brightened as she crossed it. 
 
 "Hit's better than powders to see you agin," said 
 

 VISITING THE SIN 333 
 
 Marshall Rutherford. "I came near having a backset 
 when I found you'd given yourself over to the tender 
 mercies of Big Creek Gap after dark." 
 
 There was an intonation of the voice that struck 
 pleasantly on the girl's ear, an intonation that yet lin- 
 gered in the memory of Naomi Mozingo, and would by 
 no means be put out of her life. 
 
 " Thar warn't no fear," replied Norah, a soft tinge of 
 colour illuminating her face. 
 
 The eyes that did not seek that face with pleasure 
 would have been strangely wanting in taste. Judging 
 by his next words, which sounded irrelevant, but were 
 prompted by a very logical sequence of ideas, Marshall 
 Rutherford's taste was not open to criticism. 
 
 " I was in luck when you brought me here," he said, 
 and the smile gave emphasis to the words. 
 
334 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 PERSECUTION of the Poteet family had reached 
 the point at which reaction begins. There is a 
 pendulum-like movement in strong public feeling, 
 that in the case of any abnormal outward sweep causes 
 it to swing back when the extreme point has been 
 reached. That extreme point was reached when Mar- 
 shall Lane Rutherford was or was supposed to be 
 carried away by his enemies. For a time the more 
 violent section exulted over the completeness of their 
 victory. It is hardly necessary to record that Will Hol- 
 lingsworth was at the head of the triumphant party. 
 When Will heard of the night exploit, he clapped the 
 newsmonger on the back. 
 
 Well done for Big Creek Gap ! " he said. " There's 
 public spirit left there yet." 
 
 He went about the mill with the glow of exultation in 
 his heart. 
 
 " He's counted aout," he mentally commented. " A 
 feller who could stand tha-at, and come through alive, 
 would be a wonder." 
 
 He felt now that Naomi was almost within his grasp. 
 The girl had proved elusive since Dalbert's departure. 
 The mill owner found himself relegated to the rank of 
 the other residents of the boarding-house. The position 
 pleased him ill. To all appearance, Naomi wished it to 
 be understood that she regarded him rather in the light 
 of her brother's friend than as peculiarly her own. At 
 Dalbert's departure she had drawn back from the close 
 intimacy she had formerly allowed him. He took the 
 change quietly, but he resented it. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 335 
 
 Naomi had installed an elderly woman in the kitchen, 
 and the new arrangement gave her time to go abroad. 
 She availed herself of the freedom, and Will saw little of 
 her. He did not fail to attribute the change in her 
 manner to her feelings respecting Marshall Rutherford. 
 Hence his delight at Marshall's removal. 
 
 He was in no hurry to communicate the intelligence 
 to Naomi. He rightly judged that its immediate effect 
 would be an increase of coolness on the girl's part. He 
 contented himself with more pointed attentions, that 
 Naomi noticed and promptly snubbed. There had 
 come into his bearing an air of proprietorship for which 
 she was at a loss to account, but which she found de- 
 cidedly irritating. His attentions had of late grown dis- 
 tasteful to her. The link of comradeship that had for- 
 merly drawn her and Will Hollingsworth together had 
 snapped. She was not one with him in his steadily 
 hostile pursuit of Marshall Rutherford. She did not 
 deny even to herself that the warfare had been un- 
 dertaken at her instigation. She had no right to 
 blame Will for carrying out the principles she had her- 
 self inculcated, but she did blame him. Her mental 
 attitude towards him had become antagonistic. She was 
 ready to resent any undue aggression on his part. He 
 partially understood, and he smiled and bided his time. 
 She did not know all that he knew. 
 
 There came a day when she learned some of it. She 
 had been to the village, and she came back with a 
 bright spot burning on either cheek. 
 
 This should surely have been the moment of her tri- 
 umph. She had long ago set herself to educate public 
 opinion in Big Creek Gap to the point of driving out 
 from the precincts of the village every representative 
 of the household of Poteet. To-day she had learned 
 that one representative had been violently thrust forth. 
 The other was already very much of an outcast. There 
 
336 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 should have been little more for her to desire. But 
 the colour that burned on the girl's cheeks had not its 
 source in satisfaction. 
 
 It was outside the house that she met Will Hollings- 
 worth. He looked for her to pass him without a word, 
 as she had done not seldom of late, but she stopped full 
 in his path. 
 
 " I wish you all the joy you deserve of your last ex- 
 ploit," she said, looking him fairly in the face. 
 
 Will laughed. 
 
 " So that's the lay of the land, is it ? " he commented 
 to himself. Aloud he replied : " Oh, it's no doing of 
 mine. A little personal matter on the part of Wash 
 Forehand. Didn't enjoy seeing his girl fall a victim to 
 Marshall's beguiling eyes." 
 
 He watched her closely, but she showed no sign that 
 the words went home. 
 
 "Wash carried it aout ; but who put Wash up to it ? " 
 she asked quietly. 
 
 Will laughed again. 
 
 "It shows you've got a plumb zealous servant, that's 
 about all there is in it," he said lightly. " We set aout 
 you and I to make this valley too hot to hold a 
 Poteet, or ary relation of the Poteets. Well it's get- 
 ting warm for them now." 
 
 It was the first time he had put the connection be- 
 tween them into words, and definitely claimed her as the 
 instigator of all his deeds. He saw the fire in her eyes 
 before he had finished speaking. 
 
 " We-e set aout ! " she said, slowly and scornfully. 
 "I'm not aimin' to be classed with a coward." 
 
 Her lip curled, and her eyes were scorching in their 
 scornful gaze. 
 
 "That's a trade-last not likely to be forgotten," he 
 said, using the local term for compliment with a signifi- 
 cance that was not lost upon her. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 337 
 
 " When you see me getting together six strong fellers 
 to help me oust one dying man, you may return it," she 
 said. " Didn't it strike you there was a lit-tle dispropor- 
 tion between the attackers and the attacked ? Big 
 Creek Gap is shouting * Glory ! ' over its achievement. 
 When one of you, single-handed, vanquishes six, come 
 to me for applause ; but when six of you set on one, don't 
 ask me to call your deed by any other name than it 
 deserves." 
 
 She passed him and swept into the house. And for 
 many days after he found no opportunity for word with 
 her except when others were present. 
 
 In Big Creek Gap the pendulum had swung high, but 
 already there was sign of a turn. There were men and 
 women who remembered Marshall Rutherford's pleasant 
 smile, and declared that " hit was a sha-ame to treat him 
 that away." Their numbers were increased when the 
 days passed, and no tidings of the sick man were forth- 
 coming. Then there came a new development. 
 
 " Mammy," said Norah, coming in hastily one after- 
 noon, "John Kisselbaugh's done got the small-pox. I 
 beared his Sally tell abaout hit in the village. The 
 doctor says thar hain't nary doubt." 
 
 Mrs. Felps looked up into her daughter's face. 
 
 " Lor naow ! hain't hit a si-ight ? " she said. " They- 
 uns set aout to protect themselves ; and thar hain't neither 
 of we-uns got hit yit, and John's tuk. Lor me ! " 
 
 "Hit serves John Kisselbaugh plumb ri-ight," declared 
 many a voice in Big Creek, when it was known that the 
 man who had tried to " protect himself agin Marshall " 
 was stricken down with the disease. " He should 'a 
 stayed at home, and left Marshall alone." 
 
 From the first the complaint took a strong hold of 
 John's muscular frame. 
 
 " He hain't goin' to git better," said the old doctor 
 bluntly. 
 
338 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 John Kisselbaugh made no gentle patient. He had 
 been fierce in health. When delirium seized him, those 
 about him trembled. His wife and children watched 
 him in fear, and everybody else refused to come near 
 him. Oaths loud and blood-curdling poured from his 
 lips. The air around the cabin was tainted with disease 
 and laden with blasphemy. 
 
 It was when his wife had for two days and nights 
 watched by his side that she lay down and slept the 
 deep sleep of exhaustion. She did not hear his curses, 
 nor know that with a single blow he felled the child who 
 was in attendance upon him, and left her senseless on 
 the floor. She did not know that he started in wild 
 frenzy for the barn, nor hear the frantic jumping and 
 plunging of the mules beneath the cruel torture of his 
 big whip. It was not until he had fairly maddened 
 them, and had brought them trembling and terrified out 
 of the barn, that a little shrieking voice awoke the ex- 
 hausted woman. 
 
 " Mammy, mammy, wake up ! Pappy 's killin' the 
 mules ! " 
 
 They were already in the wagon when the frightened 
 woman sprang from her bed, and rushed out into the 
 yard. 
 
 " John ! John ! What are you thinkin' abaout ? " 
 she remonstrated. "You'll ketch your death. Come 
 back to bed." 
 
 He struck at her with his long whip. The blood 
 followed the lash where it touched her face. The next 
 stroke fell upon the mules. John was in the wagon. 
 
 ' John ! " cried the terrified woman again, forgetting 
 her pain in her fear. 
 
 But he was gone, the mules racing and kicking as he 
 plied the whip, and he himself standing in the front of 
 the wagon. She ran a few steps after him, and then 
 sat down on the ground and cried helplessly. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 339 
 
 The sun had set, and darkness was creeping over the 
 valley. One or two people on the valley road heard the 
 mules go thundering by, and ran out as the crack of the 
 whip sounded clear and vindictive. 
 
 " Hit's John Kisselbaugh ! Lor ! the man's crazy." 
 
 The mules were seen to turn up the road to the mill, 
 but nobody saw them when they swerved aside and left 
 the bed of the stream, maddened now beyond control. 
 Nobody saw them gallop up the steep path above the 
 mill, and nobody heard the succession of cruel cuts 
 which put the animals past the exercise of that sagacity 
 which on ordinary occasions would have led them to 
 shun danger. There came a moment when the wagon 
 swayed and swung upon the very edge of the precipi- 
 tous hill, and another when the mules gave their last 
 jump, a jump to the bottom. 
 
 It was picked up the same night, the shattered, dis- 
 figured body of the man who had let the brute force in 
 him grow to its fullest stature. Beside him lay the dead 
 mules. They would tremble no more at the sound of 
 his footstep. 
 
 " Hit looks plumb like a judgment, don't hit ? " said 
 Big Creek Gap. 
 
 And John Kisselbaugh's fate helped to send the pen- 
 dulum swinging back. 
 
 There were no more cases of small-pox. The disease 
 appeared to have spent itself in that bold attack on the 
 man who had been the most determined of them all to 
 defend himself at the sacrifice of the life of another. 
 
 The death of John Kisselbaugh occurred more than a 
 week after the day when Wash Forehand set himself to 
 remove the rock masses he had taken such pains to 
 bring down. When he staggered out of the cave in the 
 early moments of the dawn that followed the evening 
 on which Norah's accusing voice struck terror to his 
 conscience, he looked round upon the world where the 
 
340 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 light of a fresh day's hope was breaking, with wild, un- 
 accustomed eyes. He felt as if he had been dead and 
 buried. An eternity of misery had been compressed 
 into the twenty-odd hours passed in the damp, chill 
 gloom of the cave. 
 
 He had fought his way through the opposing rock, 
 and come at last into the prison chamber beyond, 
 come into it and stood trembling, afraid to lift the lan- 
 tern lest its light should fall on the dead face of the girl 
 he loved. It seemed to him that it was hours before he 
 summoned enough courage to approach the bed, over 
 which he had bent in a frenzy of passion a few days 
 ago. It was empty. He hardly knew why he was sur- 
 prised. Norah would not lie there quietly to die. She 
 would fight madly, desperately, against death, and 
 against those great masses of rock, fight as he had 
 fought to get in to her. He should find her in some 
 remote corner, whither she had rushed at last in her 
 desperation. How close the atmosphere was, even with 
 the passage partially open, allowing an inrush of freer 
 air from the opening of the cave. It was a cruel death. 
 
 He no longer called upon the girl by name. Since 
 that accusing presence had confronted him, he had not 
 doubted that she was dead. He searched the chamber 
 thoroughly. There was much water in it. Rain had 
 fallen since he sealed up that prison. The stream was 
 swollen. He was surprised to see that it had over- 
 flowed its usual channel, and filled the lower part of the 
 chamber. It did not occur to him that it had been 
 turned from its course. It was flowing down into the 
 hole as freely now as if it had never known change. 
 Its volume brought to him a new terror. 
 
 " She's done got drowned," he said. " She hain't 
 here. She done wandered thar when the air got too 
 bad to breathe, and tumbled in and got carried away. 
 Thar warn't no light." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 341 
 
 He searched the deep pools, and convinced himself 
 that Norah's body was not in the cave. Then he re- 
 turned to the side of the bed, and sat down upon it. 
 
 " I was a plumb fool," he groaned. " I couldn't never 
 'a done no good that away." 
 
 He sat long, staring into the darkness. Thoughts of 
 a young life destroyed from off the earth wandered 
 through his brain. Suddenly the memory of the girl's 
 face, as he had seen it many a day, came to him with 
 overpowering vividness. The pity and injustice of this 
 unmerited death forced itself upon him for recognition. 
 A yearning for the girl he had left here to die seized 
 him irresistibly. 
 
 " Norah, Norah, I was a plumb fool ! O Norah, my 
 girl!" 
 
 Heavy sobs shook the bed. The passion that before 
 had spent itself in fury took the form of grief. The 
 young man writhed and trembled beneath it. He won- 
 dered in hopeless sorrow how he could ever have been 
 so mad as to do that which had made this moment pos- 
 sible. When the paroxysm had spent itself he got up 
 and staggered out into the dawning light. There was 
 no light left in the world for him. 
 
 The wish to injure Marshall Rutherford had left him. 
 Every thought was swallowed up in one burning desire 
 that the past could be undone. 
 
 He did not expect to meet any of his neighbours. He 
 had a vague purpose of reaching his own barn before the 
 world was stirring, and of flinging himself down among 
 the corn-stalks to rest. A deadly weariness had seized 
 him. He staggered forward with that one object set 
 before him. There was no hope in the future, no peace 
 in the world for him ; but there was a place to rest in, 
 back in the mow above the heads of his mules. Just 
 now that place of rest was the one suggestion of hope in 
 the universe. 
 
342 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 He did not know what a sorry object he made, even 
 in this half-light. The blood from the wound on his 
 forehead had trickled down his face, and caught and im- 
 prisoned there the particles of dust and rock that his 
 violent exertions had set flying around him. When dry, 
 the mixture gave a terrible appearance to a face that was 
 wild with grief and despair, and haggard with weariness. 
 It was no wonder that Abner Poteet stopped, and looked 
 upon such an apparition in surprise. Wash was past 
 noticing that Abner's face wore a look he had never 
 seen there before. 
 
 " Wash Forehand, is hit misfortune or sin that's set 
 hit's mark on you ? " Abner asked solemnly. 
 
 " Sin," replied Wash, in a hard, expressionless tone. 
 
 They had met upon the valley road. Both turned 
 across the grass land that led to the cottages under the 
 mountain. 
 
 "Whar are you goin' at this time o' day?" asked 
 Wash irritably. 
 
 It was an added burden to be forced to collect his 
 senses and speak rationally. 
 
 Abner hesitated a moment. 
 
 " Thar's only one house this away whar I should be 
 welcome," he said after that momentary pause. 
 
 The answer was not quite like Abner. Was there some 
 subtle change at work within him to-day ? Wash turned 
 upon him. 
 
 " Goin' to he'p nurse Marshall Rutherford, or to see 
 if thar's ary tidin's of Norah ? " he asked, with an un- 
 steady laugh. 
 
 Abner stopped short. 
 
 " Who told you ary word abaout Marshall ? " he asked. 
 
 " She did." 
 
 " Norah ? " 
 
 A loud laugh rang across the lowland. 
 
 "Olor! Norah!" 
 
VISITING THE SIN 343 
 
 Again came the wild laugh. Wash had lost control 
 of himself. 
 
 "Wash Forehand," said Ab, "you're either drunk or 
 crazy." 
 
 " I'm crazy," was the reply, " plumb crazy. Norah ! 
 My lor ! " 
 
 " What's made you crazy ? What ails you ? " de- 
 manded Ab. 
 
 " Go and ask her, Norah's mammy ! " 
 
 Abner stopped short. He understood now. 
 
 " Have you seen her ? " 
 
 "Yes. 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "I hain't sure," said Wash unsteadily. "Hit was in 
 the mornin'." 
 
 "Whar have you been since?" 
 
 " In the cave." 
 
 Abner understood fully. Some strange peace must 
 surely have been working within him, or he would not 
 have been talking thus quietly with the man who had 
 planned his cousin's death and almost accomplished that 
 of Norah. 
 
 " Whar you tuk Norah ? " he said. 
 
 He was standing in front of the other. Wash put up 
 his hands to push him aside. 
 
 "Git aout o' my way," he said. "I tell you I'm 
 crazy." 
 
 " What did you go thar for ? " 
 
 Abner had not stirred. 
 
 Suddenly Wash darted aside, and passed him. Then 
 he turned his head. 
 
 "She's dead, Ab, dead!" he cried. "No good 
 hangin* round thar ary longer." 
 
 He hurried away, and Abner did not attempt to fol- 
 low him. He stood quite still in the midst of the damp 
 grass. Was he struggling with himself ? 
 
344 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "Wash, go and see her agin, Norah's mammy. Go 
 and talk to her" 
 
 The words reached far. They fell on the ears of the 
 young man who was stumbling despairingly homeward. 
 He kept on desperately. The words were ringing in his 
 brain. "Go and talk to her." What for? He wanted 
 to get away. There was the barn and the hay-mow to 
 be reached. But between him and that refuge had come 
 the thought of Norah's mother. Reproach, denuncia- 
 tion, and possible arrest were in that direction. But 
 she was Norah's mother. The face of the older woman 
 was wonderfully like that of the girl. Now that the 
 suggestion had entered his head, he was constrained to 
 see that face again. " Go and talk to her." What 
 about ? 
 
 The two men were waiting together before the door 
 when the sun's first rays dropped into the valley. 
 Neither spoke ; but Abner turned his face to the light, 
 and Wash hid his from it. And standing thus, they 
 waited till the household was astir. 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! " 
 
 Mrs. Felps stood in the doorway and looked at her 
 two visitors. In either face she found something un- 
 usual. Both men were looking down at her. There 
 was a light in Abner 's eyes that she had never seen 
 there before. Had he wreaked his vengeance on Wash 
 Forehand, and brought him here forcibly, to demonstrate 
 his victory ? Hardly, though Wash looked as if some- 
 body had handled him roughly. The light in Abner's 
 eyes had no passion in it. 
 
 " Thar's her mammy. You better talk to her. Sin's 
 enough to drive ary man crazy if he shets hit up in his 
 heart." 
 
 Abner passed the little woman as he spoke, and went 
 into the house. 
 
 "I'm goin' to set with Marshall," he said. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 345 
 
 Mrs. Felps was studying the face of the young man 
 by the door. Slowly she read in it some of the story of 
 those twenty hours spent in the cave. 
 
 " Wash Forehand, hit hain't payin '," she said at last. 
 
 " Payin' ! " Wash looked at her wildly. " Lor ! hit's 
 payin' a right smart," he said, a harsh laugh again com- 
 ing from his lips. "Hit pays with a grip on a man's 
 heart and a stunnin' blow at his brain. Payin' ! Mercy ! 
 hit's paid till I'm plumb crazy." 
 
 He staggered, and pulled himself up against the door- 
 post. 
 
 Mrs. Felps looked at him fixedly. 
 
 " You warn't thinkin' o' that sort o' pay when you 
 started aout, Wash," she said. 
 
 " Thinkin' ! " he retorted. " I warn't thinkin' at all. 
 I was broodin' over his hevin' all the chances with Norah. 
 I was crazy then. I cain't tell what I am now. What 
 are you standin' starin' at me as still as that for ? I've 
 killed her! Don't you hear? She hain't thar. I've 
 done unblocked the cave, and she's gone. She's dead ! " 
 
 " Come in and set daown," said Mrs. Felps perempto- 
 rily. "You're staggerin'." 
 
 " I hain't drunk," he said. " I'm crazy." 
 
 But he came in, and dropped on the nearest chair. 
 Standing was becoming a difficulty, 
 
 "No, she hairit thar," said the little woman quietly. 
 " You cain't du what you promised, you cain't make the 
 loss good to me. You cain't give me back my girl. 
 You done barred your heart agin compassion, and that 
 hard heart set all hit's hardness agin he-er, my girl. 
 Hit warn't her you was atter hurtin', but you was a 
 murderer at heart, and hit was a judgment agin you 
 that your hardness tuk effect on her. Hit hain't your 
 fault I hain't broken-hdarted to-day." 
 
 " What ? Say hit agin ! " 
 
 He had sprung up, and was standing before her. 
 
346 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 She looked into that eager, working face, and her 
 judicial severity softened. 
 
 "Wash Forehand," she said, "you might 'a been a 
 murderer, you would 'a been if Ab hadn't " 
 
 The sentence was not finished. The inner door 
 opened, and a girl stood within the room. He turned, 
 and saw her. His lips parted, but no word came from 
 them. 
 
 "Wash Forehand," said Norah, more than half soft- 
 ened by the sorry spectacle before her, " I hain't dead ; 
 and you're only a murderer in your heart. You're a 
 murderer thar right enough. But you've got to keep 
 that vow you made, and keep hit the straightest way." 
 
 "I will," he said humbly. "Norah, I thought I'd 
 killed you." 
 
 "No," replied the girl, "you shet me in, and come 
 mighty nigh killin' me. You might 'a done hit, but you 
 didn't. You hain't killed me, but thar's one thing you 
 hev killed. You've done killed the good feelin' that was 
 between you and me plumb dead. We was friends : we 
 hain't goin' to be enemies. I hain't goin' to harbour no 
 grudge agin you. I've seen the evil of grudges ; and if 
 I hadn't, you've got a powerful sight the worst of hit. 
 But you've done killed the friendship, Wash. You go 
 home, and go to sleep. You're plumb played out." 
 
 He did not think of resisting. He listened to her 
 like one stupefied. Then he staggered to the door, stood 
 with it in his hand while his eyes took one long hungry 
 look at her face, and went out. 
 
 "Mammy," said Norah, "thar's something wrong 
 with Ab." 
 
 " Wrong, honey ? " was the answer. " I hain't sure. 
 Thar's a change, but hit don't look wrong to me." 
 
 " Come and see," said the girl. 
 
 He was in Marshall's room, and he was talking ear- 
 nestly. There was an urgent tone in his voice that was 
 
VISITING THE SIN 347 
 
 not often heard there. Marshall's face wore a look of 
 perplexity and distress. 
 
 " Let hit rest, Ab," he said, as mother and daughter 
 entered. 
 
 Abner turned to meet them. He took both the girl's 
 hands in his, and looked into her eyes. 
 
 " Thar hain't no danger to you in hit naow," he said. 
 " The visitin's plumb near hit's end." 
 
 "I never felt in much danger from you," she re- 
 plied, with a little, uncertain laugh. 
 
 She was conscious of a pair of blue eyes that were 
 fixed upon them both, but she could not hurt Abner by 
 withdrawing her hands. 
 
 "I came to tell you," he said, "you and Marshall." 
 
 He let the hands go, and moved a step away. Stand- 
 ing there by the window, his rugged, sensitive face lit 
 up by the morning light, he told it, the strange thing 
 that was accountable for the peace which possessed 
 him. 
 
 "I couldn't wait longer 'n daylight to tell hit," he 
 said ; " and, beside, hit seems short, the time that's left 
 to me to talk to you and Norah. Two months hain't 
 long." 
 
 His face had grown wistful as he turned it towards 
 Mrs. Felps. 
 
 " Long for what ? " she asked. 
 
 " To live the rest of my life," he said simply, " and 
 to bear the rest of the visitin'." 
 
 " What do you mean, Ab Poteet ? " questioned Mrs. 
 Felps. 
 
 " Hit come to me last night," he replied. " Hit was 
 past midnight, and I was asleep. I was dreamin' of 
 Norah, when all at onct I heard the hoof-beats of a 
 horse. They wasn't loud at fust, but they come nearer 
 and nearer ; and they got so loud they plumb filled my 
 ears, so I couldn't hear nothin' else. They stopped 
 
348 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 afore my door, and hit seemed to me I got up and 
 opened hit. Thar was a rider thar on a white horse, a 
 powerful handsome horse. But when I looked from the 
 horse to him that rode on hit, I had nary thought for 
 the animal agin. I hadn't no mind to ask him whar he 
 come from. I knowed he didn't start from nowhars on 
 this earth. 'I've got a proclamation to read to you, 
 Abner Poteet,' he says ; and his voice someway s thrilled 
 me through. 
 
 " I warn't afraid. I was listenin' breathless. Then 
 he opened a paper he was carryin', and begun to read. 
 Hit was solemn and grand. The sound of his voice 
 made the words not like any others. I could 'a listened 
 to that voice for ever. The words hev gone from me, 
 but the sense of them hain't. They said that the visitin' 
 of the sins of the fathers on the children had been 
 a-goin' on upon me, and that that thar visitin' was al- 
 most completed. I seed the eyes of him that read 
 look kindly at me when he spoke them words. ' Thar's 
 one more stroke to fall yit,' he said ; and he said hit sor- 
 rerfully. 
 
 " Then he went on to read, and afore he'd read fur 
 I knowed that my time was come. ' Two months from 
 to-night the soul of Abner Poteet is demanded of him,' 
 he read. 'On that night the messenger will knock 
 upon the door, and Abner Poteet is hereby called upon 
 to answer the knock.' 
 
 " Then he folded up the paper, and looked daown at 
 me. I warn't fearin' nothin'. His eyes were kind, as 
 if they would encourage me. And with that look he 
 turned away, and I heared the hoof-beats of his horse 
 gittin' further and further away. I couldn't see either 
 the horse or the rider. The darkness had swallered 
 them up. 
 
 " It seemed to me I come back into the house. I was 
 layin' in my bed when I opened my eyes. I didn't sleep 
 
VISITING THE SIN 349 
 
 no more. I knowed my time was come, and as soon as 
 the day begun to break I started to tell you. The 
 visitin's nearly finished." 
 
 A smile of peace was on his face. The " visiting " 
 had been very real to him. 
 
 During all the recital no one had interrupted him. 
 So firm a hold had dream warnings upon the Southern 
 imagination that not one of Abner's hearers questioned 
 the finality of the verdict. 
 
 " You hain't afraid, Abner ? " questioned Mrs. Felps. 
 
 The little woman's voice was awed. 
 
 " No, I hain't afraid," said Abner. " If so be his sins 
 hain't restin' on me, I'm hopin' thar's better things 
 ahead. I hain't afraid, and I'm glad I knowed. Two 
 months hain't long, and thar's a right smart o' things to 
 be done." 
 
 He was looking at Norah. The girl caught the 
 glance, and came over impulsively to his side. 
 
 "I hain't wantin' to part with you, Ab," she said, 
 laying a small, soft hand on his. 
 
 The big, strong fingers closed over it. There was 
 a sob in Abner's throat. 
 
 " And I hain't wantin' to leave you-u," he said. " But 
 hit's better so. Thar won't be no more shadder of 
 danger that the curse should touch you then. Hit's 
 done been visited on me." 
 
 And while he stayed in the cottage, talking calmly of 
 the future when he should not be there, the look of 
 peace never left his face. 
 
 Both Norah and her mother had forgotten Wash 
 Forehand. The tidings Ab had brought were too 
 solemn to leave room for passion or revenge. They did 
 not, at the time, even exult over the young man's very 
 just punishment, or smile at the remembrance of his 
 defeat. Not so the world. When it was known in the 
 community and it was not known in a hurry that 
 
350 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 six men had taken infinite pains to remove a girl whom 
 they had no desire to kidnap, Big Creek laughed ; and 
 the laugh was not against Norah Felps. The pendulum 
 was swinging back fast. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 35* 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 "\T THAR'S Dal?" 
 
 \/\/ The speaker stood upon the steps of the 
 
 * * boarding-house, and addressed his question 
 
 towards the interior, presumably with the intent that it 
 
 should reach the ears of Naomi, who was passing across 
 
 the passage. 
 
 She turned to look at the lank, half-grown boy who 
 held himself with one foot on the top step and the other 
 two degrees lower, in a position favourable to sudden 
 withdrawal. 
 
 "Why, Lem!" 
 
 She came swiftly to the door. 
 
 " Where did you come from ? " 
 
 " Cedar Fork," replied the boy, with a grin. 
 
 "You did? Afoot?" 
 
 I reckon." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Thought you'd come visiting, eh ? " 
 
 " Visitin' ! " said the boy contemptuously. " I hain't 
 tramped from thar to this place for note." 
 
 " You've done left your mammy ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 "She's married another feller. I hain't wantin' a 
 new pappy." 
 
 The sturdy disapproval in the boy's eyes brought the 
 light of a laugh to those of the girl. Her mouth was 
 grave, however. 
 
 " What are you aimin' to do ? " she asked. 
 
 "Work. I'm a year older 'n I was when he went 
 away. I'm aimin' to see him, and git work at the 
 mill." 
 
352 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " He don't run the mill now," said Naomi. 
 
 The boy looked at her incredulously. Evidently he 
 did not entirely believe the statement. 
 
 " Hain't that thar mill hisn ? " he asked. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Don't he work thar ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " What are you doin' here then ? " 
 
 The question was of the nature of a thunder-clap. 
 Naomi had to recover her breath before she answered it. 
 The answer, when it came, was only a low, musical 
 laugh. 
 
 " Whar is Dal ? " demanded the boy. 
 
 " Upon the Ridges, trying his hand at farming." 
 
 " Be them the Ridges ? " 
 
 He pointed to the hills that rose within the broad 
 sweep enclosed by the high mountain ranges. 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Which away is hit you've got to go to come to his 
 farm ? " 
 
 The girl laughed again. 
 
 " You are in a hurry," she said. " Come in and have 
 your dinner. The men have just gone." 
 
 He knew that. He had watched them go, timing his 
 appearance to their disappearance. 
 
 "No," he replied emphatically, "I'm goin' to find 
 Dal. I hain't hungry." 
 
 Which was not literally true. A growing boy must 
 needs be hungry when he has eaten nothing since the 
 night before, and noon is already past. 
 
 Lem was hungry, but not half as hungry as the 
 young man to whom he was going to be fed. Dai's 
 hunger was three days old already. It happened on 
 this wise. 
 
 Dalbert had been down into the valley to the village 
 store, and had heard there the latest news. Now it 
 
VISITING THE SIN 353 
 
 chanced that the latest news included the story of the 
 night raid upon the house of Mrs. Felps, and the com- 
 plete disappearance of Marshall Lane Rutherford. It 
 did not include the clearing up of the mystery, which 
 came a day or so after Dalbert's visit, and which sent 
 a hearty, healthy laugh running back and forth through 
 Big Creek Gap. To Dalbert the story was an indict- 
 ment of his sister. Who but Naomi had given rise to 
 the ill-feeling that had culminated in such a night's 
 work ? If Marshall were dead, who but Naomi was to 
 blame ? 
 
 Dalbert's purchases were never made. He left the 
 store in a hurry, and rode straight back to the farm. 
 His brain was in a whirl. Indignation and sorrow kept 
 up a continued strain of comment upon the news he had 
 heard. Could the originator of all this cruelty be 
 Naomi, the girl who had risked her life to spare him 
 danger? How could her heart have thus hardened, 
 and against one whom she had known well, nay, if he 
 had not read her feelings wrongly, one who had not 
 failed to lay successful siege to that heart itself ? 
 
 Dal ate his dinner without knowing what he ate. He 
 did not even remember that, when it was finished, there 
 was hardly another mouthful of food in the house. It 
 had been long since he had left his farm to go down to 
 the village shop, and his store needed replenishing. He 
 had gone to-day for the purpose. He came back as he 
 went, except for a full heart and a harassed brain. 
 
 Brain and heart were in no more tranquil condition 
 when he harnessed his mules and went out to plough a 
 steep hillside at a distance from the house. It was a 
 wonder how the mules scrambled up and down that 
 slope. It was almost to be feared that if the corn came 
 up in such ground it would one day take a sliding trip 
 from the top to the bottom of the field. It needed a 
 steady hand to guide the mules and the plough, and 
 
354 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Dalbert's hand was not steady. It was too much in 
 sympathy with his heart. 
 
 It was not the fault of the mules, but rather of an 
 impatient jerk at exactly the wrong moment, that they 
 turned sharply on a knob of land, the steepest in the 
 field, and that one of them in turning caught his foot 
 against a piece of rock and came heavily down. It was 
 not the fault of the mule that Dalbert was not quick 
 enough to get out of the way. The mule was not the 
 principal sufferer. The animal was soon on its feet 
 again, turning its head to discover why its two-legged 
 companion did not follow its example. He would have 
 done so if the two legs had been in their normal condi- 
 tion ; but with one of them lying broken under him, get- 
 ting up was a matter that required some consideration. 
 
 The mules stood until they were tired of the exertion 
 of holding themselves on the steep hill. Then they es- 
 sayed to go down, but a peremptory voice restrained 
 them. Dal was thinking out the situation. 
 
 There was not a house besides his own within a mile 
 and a half of where he lay. It required some courage 
 to drag himself on to the back of one of the mules and 
 ride home, but there was nothing to be gained by delay. 
 Once in his own cabin, he could wait until some one 
 came that way. 
 
 How long it took him to accomplish his end Dal could 
 not have told. It seemed to him that he slipped back a 
 dozen times before the uninjured leg was thrown across 
 the back of the quietest mule. For the time even 
 Naomi was forgotten. The getting back to the house 
 before his strength failed him was a vital question. It 
 engrossed all his thoughts. But when he was before 
 the door, he turned the heads of the mules away. 
 
 "There's no telling how soon ary person will come 
 this way," he said. "The poor brutes shan't take the 
 risk of suffering." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 355 
 
 He guided them towards a grass field, near by the 
 one in which his horse was already feeding, opened the 
 gate at the cost of some additional pain, and then slid 
 from the mule's back to the ground. He even suc- 
 ceeded in relieving the animals of their harness, and 
 shutting them into the field. Then he crawled to the 
 house, and for a time gave up the fight with pain. 
 
 All that was three days ago, and the first passer-by 
 had not yet appeared. It was no wonder Dal was 
 hungry, or that half the time, between weakness and 
 pain, his brain wandered. The footsteps of Lem would 
 be welcome when they came. 
 
 "What's she doin' thar?' questioned the boy, as he 
 turned his back on Naomi. " How's he to go to farmin' 
 alone ? Hit hain't right." 
 
 By which decision Lem gave evidence that his sym- 
 pathies were entirely with his hero, notwithstanding 
 Naomi's friendliness towards himself, and her success- 
 ful intervention in Dai's behalf in times past. 
 
 " Hit's a powerful long way, and I shall be awful proud 
 when I git thar." 
 
 Lem's hunger was increasing. So was his weariness. 
 At the last house he passed he had learned that Dal was 
 "at home, likely, for he hadn't been daown the moun- 
 tain for a right smart sight." 
 
 " If them fields are hisn, he's powerful behind with 
 some of the ploughin'," commented the boy. 
 
 He quickened his steps when the cabin came in sight, 
 and the weariness disappeared from his gait. "He 
 warn't aimin' to let Dal see him all played aout." 
 
 Dal was past seeing anything, except that help was 
 near. He lay near the window, half dozing, half un- 
 conscious ; but the sound of footsteps aroused him. He 
 raised himself on his elbow, and looked out. Was his 
 brain wandering again, or was he back in Cedar Fork 
 valley ? The boy's face was familiar, but it had no con- 
 nection with Big Creek Gap. 
 
3$6 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Lem ? " 
 
 The name came doubtfully. Dalbert was more than 
 half inclined to believe that the apparent arrival was a 
 delusion. 
 
 " Oh, lor ! Why, thar's somethin' wrong ! " 
 
 Lem did not go to the window to satisfy curiosity. 
 He bounded in at the broken gate, and sent the house 
 door back with a bang. Then he was standing beside 
 Dalbert. 
 
 " Lor ! I thought she was a-duin' a pretty thing a-stayin' 
 thar and leavin' you to lueke aout for yourself," he said. 
 
 "Where did you come from ? " asked Dal. 
 
 " Cedar Fork. Say, Dal, what's up ? You got to be 
 attended to right away." 
 
 " I reckon you're right, boy," said Dal, with a smile 
 that trembled a little on his lips. " A broken leg wants 
 seeing to in less than three days." 
 
 " Shucks ! You hain't been layin' thar for three days, 
 and nobody come near ? " exclaimed Lem. 
 
 " Looks like it," said Dal. 
 
 " I'm goin' clar back to fetch her. She hain't knowing 
 or she wouldn't be stoppin* thar gittin' other men's grub, 
 and leavin' you this away." 
 
 Lem had already started for the door. 
 
 " Lem ! " 
 
 The tone was peremptory. The boy stopped. 
 
 " Where are you goin' ? " asked Dal. 
 
 " To fetch her, of course." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Why, Naomi." 
 
 " You'll do nothing of the sort," replied the young 
 man. " I won't have her told. You come back here." 
 
 Lem's eyes opened wide. Were the skies about to 
 fall ? " Naomi Mozingo and Dal not hittin' hit ? " Lem 
 failed to understand things. 
 
 " You hain't goin' to tell her ? " he asked. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 357 
 
 " Certainly not," said Dal. " Lem, you go down to 
 the nearest house, you passed it a smart piece below, 
 and ask them to give you anything in the shape of vict- 
 uals that they've got handy. Tell them it's three days 
 since I've had any, to speak of." 
 
 " My lor ! " 
 
 The boy was at the door again. 
 
 " And Lem ! You can help yourself out of what they 
 give you. I guess you're hungry too." 
 
 "Oh, I hain't hungry," said the boy, for the second 
 time that day ; and for the second time it would have 
 b.een impossible to accuse him of speaking absolute 
 truth. 
 
 " Lor, hit's a si-ight ! " commented Lem, as the dust 
 flew from under his feet. " Him a-layin' thar, and her 
 cue-kin for other fellers ! " 
 
 Lem was in the dark. All the way back up the hill, 
 as he shouldered the bag into which sundry provisions 
 had been hastily thrust, he was pondering the situation ; 
 and when he reached the cabin, he was still at a loss to 
 understand it. 
 
 "Thar's a poke full," he said, bringing his bag down 
 with a thud. " Now you'd better eat." 
 
 He tended his patient carefully ; but when Dal was 
 satisfied, and the weary look of pain returned to his 
 eyes, the boy regarded him wistfully for a minute. 
 
 " Whar does the doctor live ? " he asked. " I'm goin' 
 atter him." 
 
 "Take Charley. He's running in the field. Ride 
 till you get clear to the bottom of the hill. Anybody 
 will tell you which way to turn after that," said Dal 
 dreamily. 
 
 "All right," replied the boy. "You go to sleep. 
 I'll bring him along." 
 
 His weary legs once astride Charley's back, Lem 
 looked the world hopefully in the face again. He rode 
 a few yards past the house, and looked down. 
 
358 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " I reckon this away's the quickest to the bottom," he 
 said, and went down the side of the hill farthest from 
 Big Creek Gap. Thus it happened that the doctor who 
 set the broken limb was not the representative of 
 medical science in Big Creek, and thus it also happened 
 that a considerable time elapsed before Naomi heard of 
 her brother's accident. 
 
 Lem assisted in the setting of the bone, and estab- 
 lished himself as head nurse. 
 
 " I've come to lue-uke atter him," he said ; and though 
 his own face was pinched with weariness, Dalbert had 
 a careful attendant that night. 
 
 " Thar's got to be some luekin' inter things done," 
 decided Lem. 
 
 And Lem was the boy to do it. Before Dal was on 
 his feet again, Lem knew all about Big Creek Gap, past 
 and present. He had been down to inspect the old 
 house in the hollow, and made a dive into the "bone 
 cave." He knew the story that pertained to Marshall 
 Rutherford and Nora Felps, and had made the acquaint- 
 ance of both the principals in that adventure. It was 
 he who set Dalbert's mind at rest about Marshall's 
 safety, and told the story of the abduction with inimi- 
 table humour. 
 
 " Him and Norah's making up to each other," he 
 announced later. " Lor ! they'll be a powerful pretty 
 pair. That gal's worth somethinV' 
 
 Dalbert's fields were not neglected. His nearest 
 neighbour put in the remainder of the corn, and Lem 
 worked like a young enthusiast in the cause. How he 
 found time for excursions to the village, none but Lem 
 could have told. 
 
 Dal was already recovering when Naomi stopped the 
 boy to ask about him. His farm was miles away from 
 the mill, and she had but lately heard of his accident. 
 
 "He's a-comin' on all ri-ight," said the boy loftily. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 359 
 
 " You hain't no more cause to bother yourself abaout 
 him naow than you had when he hadn't nobody to lueke 
 atter him. Go and feed the fellers you're cuekin' and 
 duin' for. He hain't layin' three days without ary thing 
 to eat naow." 
 
 And Lem passed on haughtily. 
 
 Those were glorious days to Lem. He was not only 
 useful, but essential, to his hero. He removed all 
 uneasiness from Dalbert's mind with respect to the 
 safety of the machinery left in the mill at Cedar Fork, 
 and told him the news of the valley. 
 
 " Lor ! they-uns has found hit hain't all gain to turn 
 agin the man that's he'pin* put money in they-uns' 
 pockets," he said. "They're a-growlin' naow 'cause 
 times is hard and thar hain't no money in the valley. 
 Lor ! thar hain't like to be." 
 
 There were some things that Lem did not find out. 
 He never learned of the dissatisfaction in Will Hollings- 
 worth's mind, nor of his growing eagerness to win the 
 girl who seemed to get further from him as the days 
 passed. And he knew nothing of the bitterness in that 
 girl's heart, or of the pain that had found a lodgment 
 there. 
 
 Since she heard of Wash Forehand's exploit, Naomi 
 had seen herself with Marshall Rutherford's eyes. She 
 tried to talk to herself to justice, and of the wrong of let- 
 ting a murderer go unpunished ; but the attempt was a 
 pitiful failure. She failed to convince herself that one 
 murder was not as bad as another ; and that Marshall 
 Rutherford was alive to-day was surely not her fault. 
 The words of Mrs. Felps would not be driven from her 
 memory. It was she who had set the stone rolling. 
 And that stone had struck what ? Naomi's proud 
 head drooped as she acknowledged that it had struck 
 her own heart. 
 
3 6o VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 IN two more days hev gone, the curse '11 be 
 ended." 
 
 The heavy, rugged face had a solemn look in 
 it. There a certain solemnity in walking quietly up 
 to the end of life and facing it squarely. Two months 
 had almost passed since a certain dream had brought a 
 look of peace to Abner Poteet's face. The peace had 
 never left it. 
 
 "Hit'll be two months to-morrer, Norah," he con- 
 tinued. 
 
 His hand was on the girl's arm. He was looking 
 wistfully into her face. 
 
 " I hain't forgittin'," she said, meeting his gaze with 
 eyes that were sorrowful ; " but I hain't willin' to believe 
 hit. Thar may be a mistake." 
 
 "Thar hain't," he said confidently. "I hain't 
 wantin' thar should be. Norah, that thar readin' said 
 hit was the last stroke. I'm waitin' for hit. Hit'll 
 come." 
 
 There was a sob in the girl's throat. 
 
 " Hit'll come," he continued. " Hit'll come plumb 
 on me. Hit's whar hit ought er come. I was scart hit 
 should reach further 'n me. I warn't knowin' how 
 many sins thar was. I was fearin' the visitin' warn't 
 over, and some of hit might fall on Marshall and 
 you. Hit hain't a-goin' to." 
 
 A note of triumph was recognisable in his voice. 
 
 " Hit warn't your fault, Ab. They warn't your sins," 
 said the girl. 
 
 "Thar's enough of my own," he said sorrowfully. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 361 
 
 "But hisn was worse. I hain't knowin' all thar was 
 in 'em. I was fearin' they'd go inter the other world. 
 They're comin' to an end. Thar '11 soon be a finish to 
 the visitin' now." 
 
 The spell of the supernatural was on the girl as well 
 as on Abner. She could not shake it off. She looked 
 at the face above her with eyes that were full of tears. 
 Shining through the mist of their own compassion, they 
 had a drawing power stronger than ever for the big, 
 tender hearted man looking down into them. 
 
 " Norah," he said gently, "thar '11 be a-plenty for you. 
 I've settled hit all, and had everything drawn up ac- 
 cordin' to law. Thar couldn't never be no curse on the 
 farm. Hit warn't hisn : hit was my mammy's. That's 
 yourn now, Norah. And thar's the money I've saved 
 aout o' my own makin's. Thar's a right smart of hit. 
 Hit's all yourn atter enough's took aout of hit to put 
 me away decent." 
 
 " I hain't want in' the money, Ab," she said. 
 
 He smiled tenderly. 
 
 "Norah," he said, the words coming in slow, softly 
 spoken sentences, "I useter think I'd maybe some 
 day have courage to ask you to take hit. I useter 
 think of you settin' afore the fire thar. The house 
 warn't as good as yourn, but I could 'a fixed hit up. 
 We'd 'a bought new things and made hit pretty. But 
 thar was the curse that was restin' on me. And hit 
 was to the third and fourth generation. Hit would 'a 
 touched you. I warn't aimin' to let hit du tha-at." 
 
 He was looking into her eyes. She did not turn 
 them away. 
 
 "Hit warn't safe," he said sorrowfully. "But the 
 sins hev done been visited now. Thar hain't none left 
 to fall on Marshall and you." 
 
 She heard the break in his voice. Even now it was 
 not easy for him to give her up to his cousin, though 
 
362 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 upon the first intimation of his own death he had been 
 impatient to have Marshall's relation to the girl settled. 
 
 "Ab, I hain't believin' that dream; and I won't!" 
 
 The words burst from the girl's lips with the force of 
 passion rather than of conviction. She did believe it 
 they all believed it. How could they help it, when the 
 firm persuasion of its truth was in every line of Abner's 
 face? 
 
 He smiled upon her. 
 
 "Hit'll come," he said. "But hit'll be the end. 
 Thar won't be no more curse on the money then, and 
 thar won't be no more danger in usin' hit. Hit's hisn, 
 all of hit and you're hisn only he'll give hit to ye 
 instead 'o me." 
 
 The last words came regretfully. He turned his 
 head away, but only for a moment. He could not afford 
 to lose the sight of the girl's face. He realised that it 
 was a joy that was almost ended. 
 
 "We don't want the money," she said petulantly. 
 " We'd rather have you." 
 
 He looked at her wistfully for a moment, then bent his 
 head and kissed her forehead. It was the first time, 
 and the colour dyed his face as if it had been a girl's. 
 
 It was on the following day that Naomi Mozingo met 
 Norah in the valley road. She was struck by the deli- 
 cate beauty of the girl's face. It had acquired a new 
 charm of late. Naomi did not need to ask herself 
 whence came the happiness that had put its imprint 
 there. Her own heart clamoured to her the secret. 
 To-day, however, there was a subtle change. The brill- 
 iancy of the beauty was shadowed. The eyes that 
 looked up at Naomi's approach had lost their flash. 
 They were not the less attractive for the change. The 
 girl was, if anything, more beautiful, now that sorrow 
 and awe mingled with the happiness that tempered pain. 
 Norah, like Abner, was waiting for " the last stroke." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 363 
 
 The greeting that passed between the two girls was 
 scant. Naomi went on her way with an added weariness 
 in her heart. And because her heart was weary, her 
 steps were tireless. They carried her through the Gap, 
 past the great castle-like rocks that could have told wild 
 stories of occupation by Union and Confederate bands, and 
 out into a picturesque hollow of the hills, sweeping back 
 again behind the mountains that opened to form the 
 gateway of the valley. Green and cool and inviting was 
 that shut-in hollow of but a few acres all told. Naomi 
 had not noticed it before, when she rode past it on Duke's 
 back. Now curiosity turned her feet into the cleft 
 among the hills, that looked so thoroughly out of the 
 world that the girl felt a thrill of expectancy as she 
 passed into the shadow and trod the soft grass. Across 
 the open grass land her eye chanced upon a lightly 
 marked foot-path. 
 
 " The feet that come this way are not many," mused 
 the girl, as she turned into the barely suggested track. 
 
 Not until she had followed it for the full length of the 
 little valley, and begun climbing a hill right ahead, did a 
 mist of blue smoke explain the existence of the path. 
 Naomi was curious. Who lived in this out-of-the-way 
 nook, and why was the foot-path so dimly defined ? 
 
 She came upon the brow of the hill, and looked down. 
 Right below her the smoke came lazily from a low chim- 
 ney, raised barely a foot above the roof of the cabin. 
 Naomi could have jumped down clear on that roof if she 
 had chosen, so precipitous was the rock upon which she 
 stood. It was not necessary to jump, however, for the 
 path led round the rock, and down by a circuitous but 
 less break-neck route. 
 
 Did no premonition of danger warn the girl to stay 
 her footsteps before she trod that circuitous path ? 
 Surely not. There was a thrill of excitement in her 
 nerves, a feeling of being on the eve of a discovery. It 
 
364 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 stimulated her, and for the moment made it possible to 
 forget. She stood watching the smoke curl from the 
 chimney, almost reluctant to take her eyes from the 
 strangely hidden dwelling, and then set a light foot on 
 the downward path. 
 
 Once started, her progress was necessarily rapid. 
 She drew up, breathless, in a tangle of weeds and low 
 bushes. The house was directly before her, a little low 
 hut with a pile of bark and roots and sticks beside the 
 door. 
 
 " What a wonderful wood-pile ! " said the girl, . and 
 went nearer to examine it. 
 
 Every conceivable thing that would burn was included 
 in that heap. Broken chair-backs, spokes from wheels, 
 old wooden stirrups, cracked gourds, bark, branches, 
 twigs, weeds, all had a place in the pile. It reached 
 high above the girl's head as she stood by its side. She 
 looked at it with amazement, and something like awe. 
 Who had built it up, twig upon twig and weed upon 
 weed ? 
 
 Curiosity prompted her to examine further, and again 
 that thrill of expectancy ran through her as she came to 
 the door. It was shut ; and she knocked gently, glanc- 
 ing at the same time at the rickety old shutter that 
 closed the opening which should serve as a window. 
 Though it was carefully shut, it hung so nearly off its 
 hinges that Naomi had no difficulty in pushing it partly 
 away. 
 
 " There's somebody inside," she said, after that peep 
 into the mysterious cabin. 
 
 There had come no answer to her first knock ; but she 
 rapped again, and tried the door. It refused to yield to 
 her touch. 
 
 And then a strange impulse seized her. She went 
 back to the shutter, and once more pulled it partly away. 
 After one long look she let it fall into position again, 
 
VISITING THE SIN 365 
 
 and walked quickly to the rear of the house. She had 
 seen light inside that room. Its presence betokened 
 a window somewhere. 
 
 Who lived in this house? Did nobody ever walk 
 round it ? The weeds were knee-deep about it, as if 
 they had been untrodden for years ; and yet Naomi could 
 have sworn that she had seen within the room a face 
 lying upon a pillow somewhere where the light shone 
 full upon it. 
 
 There had been no answer to her second knock, 
 though she had distinctly heard a movement inside. 
 .Why should the door be kept locked so carefully in this 
 lonely dwelling among the mountains ? 
 
 A strong desire to enter the house possessed the girl. 
 She went right round the building, looking for that win- 
 dow which had thrown light upon the face she had seen. 
 There was no such window to be found. Except in 
 front, neither door nor opening of any kind was in evi- 
 dence. All who entered must enter by the door that was 
 now securely locked, and all light must, so far as she 
 could see, come in by that door also, or by the hole left 
 open when the shutter was swung back. And yet she 
 had distinctly seen a face upon which the light fell, and 
 the face had sent through her nerves a thrill for which 
 she could not account. She had not seen it plainly 
 enough to understand the cause of that thrill, but she 
 experienced an irresistible desire to see it again. 
 
 She went back to the door. It was still securely fast- 
 ened. She turned from it to the shutter. One sharp 
 wrench, and that dilapidated covering would fall from its 
 hinges. The girl drew a quick breath. Had she 
 courage for that wrench ? She could make good the 
 damage ; but where was the excuse ? And how about 
 the temper of the owner ? That was an unknown quan- 
 tity. Naomi told herself she was foolish to wish to in- 
 vestigate this mystery among the mountains. What was 
 it to her who lived in the house ? 
 
366 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Nevertheless a moment later she drew herself up, set 
 her feet firmly upon the weeds, and stood with the shut- 
 ter in her hand and the opening fully disclosed. The 
 deed was done, and the consequences to be met. But 
 just now there was no thought of consequences in the 
 girl's mind. There was no thought of the dwelling into 
 which she was looking. All consciousness was concen- 
 trated upon the face that lay upon the pillow, with the 
 light shining full upon it. She did not even see that 
 the light fell from above, and that the window for which 
 she had been looking was to be sought for in the roof. 
 She had eyes for nothing but that face ; and as she looked 
 upon it, her hold upon the shutter relaxed, her hands 
 went out towards it, and her lips quivered with excitement 
 and love as they uttered the one word, " Father ! " 
 
 She was so completely engrossed that her ears failed 
 to warn her of footsteps that approached. Perhaps the 
 ears were not altogether to blame, for they would have 
 needed extraordinary keenness to detect the tread, 
 stealthy as that of a panther, with which the coming 
 figure drew near. If the girl had surprised that savage 
 beast in its lair, it would hardly have met her with eyes 
 that had in them a more dangerous gleam than those 
 that glowered at the girl from beneath bushy, white eye- 
 brows. With a long, noiseless stride the figure reached 
 the opposite side of the wood-pile, and leant forward till 
 the woman's breath might surely have been felt on the 
 girl's cheek. 
 
 If strength of will and vigour of animosity could kill, 
 Naomi would at that moment have been in imminent 
 danger. But what will-power could not do, another 
 force was set to accomplish. The woman drew back 
 into the shelter of the wood-pile. Then the strong old 
 arm went out, and selected from that pile a weapon. 
 None but China Partins knew that that bit of wood was 
 iron-bound. China had picked it up in the precincts of 
 
VISITING THE SIN 367 
 
 the blacksmith's shop ten years before. She knew 
 which piece to select. And she knew how to draw it 
 from beneath the pile without disturbing the hetero- 
 geneous mass that rested upon it. The eyes gleamed 
 again as the hand swung that long-preserved weapon 
 round and up. 
 
 " I'm coming, father ! " 
 
 Naomi's head was within the opening. Her hands 
 were raising her for the effort to climb into the little 
 window at the very moment when the blow descended. 
 Had it been otherwise, the mystery of the cottage upon 
 the mountains might have remained a mystery still. 
 The shutter, hanging by its fastening, took the force of 
 the blow, though the edge of the weapon glanced off to 
 the girl's shoulder, and left a mark that was not effaced 
 for many a day. 
 
 After all, it was not altogether that movement on 
 Naomi's part that prevented a tragedy. The old 
 woman had already sprung forward with arm uplifted, 
 ready to strike again. It was a sound, half call, half 
 moan, from within the cabin, that stopped that muscu- 
 lar arm. It brought a change, sudden and bewildering, 
 into the face and attitude of the woman. Almost be- 
 fore Naomi had time to turn, with the cry that sudden 
 blow had forced from her yet on her lips, the woman 
 had sprung aside, and flung open the door. 
 
 The next moment the girl started back. Between 
 her and the face upon which her eyes had been yearn- 
 ingly fixed stood a form not to be forgotten when once 
 seen. It was tall, in spite of the bent shoulders, and 
 commanding notwithstanding its unmistakable marks of 
 age. It was not the figure, however, but the eyes 
 deep-set, gleaming, overshadowed by a mass of white 
 bushy brows that drew the girl's fascinated gaze. 
 They burned like coals of fire, burned as if they 
 would consume the intruder. Yet, gazing into them, 
 
368 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Naomi felt no fear. There was room in her conscious- 
 ness for nothing but the knowledge that her father was 
 here, and that this woman stood between her and him. 
 
 The pain of the blow was forgotten, the cause of it 
 not even understood. The girl looked into the old face 
 keenly. What a face it was, with the experiences of a 
 hundred years written upon it, no, rather carved 
 deeply into it ! The wrinkles were not furrows merely : 
 they were gullies hollowed out of the parchment-cov- 
 ered surface. Naomi had seen that face before, on the 
 other side of her own window. Looking at it now, in 
 the surroundings to which it evidently belonged, she 
 read a different story in it. What was the relationship 
 between her father and this old woman? How came 
 he here, so evidently helpless ? 
 
 She had barely time to ask herself the ques- 
 tions. For a moment the figure had turned from her, 
 to bend over the pillow and speak low, crooning words 
 as if to a child. Then the woman swept round and 
 faced the girl again. 
 
 Was it charm incantation malediction, that 
 low hissing murmur with which she met the wondering 
 gaze of the young eyes ? 
 
 "What is the matter with him ? He is my father ! " 
 
 Naomi's voice was clear, and ringing with excite- 
 ment. Her hands were trembling. That still face 
 upon the pillow appalled her. It was her father's, but 
 it made no movement in response to her call. It lay 
 as it had lain when she wrenched off the shutter, a face 
 perfect in comeliness, hardly perceptibly older than 
 when she looked into it and bade him good-by as he 
 rode away from the mountain farm, but immovable as 
 it had never been for her before. It had in it the life 
 and strength of a man, combined with the stillness of 
 death. It sent a chill though her veins and a sense of 
 awe to her heart. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 369 
 
 " Hush, gal ! Git aout o' that winder ! " 
 
 The brown, wrinkled hand pushed her back. She 
 yielded, but it was only to appear at the door. 
 
 " Git aout o' thar ! You'll fright him ! " 
 
 But Naomi had darted past her, and was on her 
 knees by the narrow bed. 
 
 " Father ! Don't you know me ? It's Naomi ! " 
 
 The eyes were turned upon her, those deep, dark 
 eyes, so like her own. Was there a look of recognition in 
 them, or was it the same fixed gaze that had been there 
 from the first ? 
 
 " Does he know ? " she asked appealingly. 
 
 The woman looked down at her. 
 
 "No, he don't," she said savagely. 
 
 But even as she spoke there was that same sound, 
 half moan, half cry, that had brought her to his side 
 before. She pushed roughly against the girl. 
 
 " Git up ! " she said. " You're disturbin' him." 
 
 Naomi did not move. 
 
 " Git up, gal ! Don't you know hit's more than your 
 life's worth to come here this away ? " 
 
 The words were hissed into Naomi's ear. 
 
 " No," she replied in a voice that she tried in vain to 
 steady. " What are you doing with him ? He's my 
 father." 
 
 The woman laughed, a low, mocking laugh. 
 
 "Your father! Don't I know tha-at ? Hain't I 
 knowed hit since the day you rode through the Gap ? 
 Hain't I laid wait for ye ? Gal, you come here at your 
 peril!" 
 
 The vindictiveness throbbed through every word. If 
 the thrill of the voice spoke truth, the woman would 
 have liked to make those skinny fingers meet around the 
 girl's throat. Yet there was a strange repression, a 
 holding the passion within bounds, that Naomi would 
 have found it hard to account for if she had been in 
 
370 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 a mood for reasoning. Just now, however, even the 
 passion was wasted upon her. 
 
 " Why should there be danger ? " she asked wonder- 
 ingly. " We have looked for him so long. I thought 
 he was dead." 
 
 Again there came that low, mocking laugh. 
 
 "Yes you thought Ken Poteet killed him more 
 fool you ! " 
 
 Why did the words send the colour in one wild sweep 
 across the girl's face, and then leave it white as death ? 
 She knelt as if stunned. Kennedy Poteet ! She had 
 called him her father's murderer ! 
 
 If the hands with the long, claw-shaped nails had 
 gripped her throat, they could hardly have stilled the 
 beating of her heart more effectually than those words 
 had done. Just how long it was before it began throb- 
 bing again, with a leap like a wild thing rebelling against 
 fate, she did not know. 
 
 She had not been thinking, but through her brain in 
 the interval had passed the sweep of a year. With the 
 leap of her heart into action again, she put the vision 
 from her. It could be met later. She looked up, and 
 saw those angry eyes glaring at her ; and a sudden im- 
 pulse of defiance seized her. 
 
 " Why do you look at me so ? " she cried. " I have 
 never injured you. Tell me what you have done to my 
 father. What is the matter with him ? " 
 
 " Tell you what I've done to him ? " The eyes fairly 
 blazed. " Gal, I cain't ! Whar should I begin ? I've 
 fought for him like a wild-cat, and tended him like a 
 babe, and loved him like a mother, and hidden him like 
 a treasure, and trembled like a fool for fear of losin* 
 him, lor ! gal, what's the use tellin' you-u ? You don't 
 understand, and never would." 
 
 Her voice had risen with excitement. Her attitude 
 was threatening. But once more into the midst of her 
 
VISITING THE SIN 371 
 
 rising fury broke that inarticulate sound from the bed. 
 Then it became evident why the old woman had re- 
 strained her passion. That cry had power to still the 
 storm. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and the fury 
 died out of it. 
 
 " Hush ! He's listenin'." 
 
 " Then he does know ? " 
 
 The old woman grunted. The sound might mean 
 either assent or denial. 
 
 Naomi rose, and bent over the bed. 
 
 " Father, do you know me ? " she asked. " If you do, 
 make some sign. Oh, father dear, we've wanted you 
 so!" 
 
 There was no response. The tears gathered in the 
 girl's eyes, and one dropped warm on the still face. Did 
 he know her ? Naomi could not tell. 
 
 But when she turned away from the bed there came a 
 startling change. The right arm of the man was lifted, 
 and brought down upon a chair by his side. Naomi 
 knew now from whence had come the sound that told 
 her the house was inhabited. 
 
 " He can move ! " she said breathlessly. 
 
 " Yes, with that arm. Thar hain't another bit o' stir 
 in his body." 
 
 The woman spoke sullenly, but the passion was gone. 
 
 Again that right arm moved impatiently. 
 
 " Git daown on yer knees agin he wants ye ! '' 
 
 "Does he know?" asked the girl again, bending until 
 her face almost touched his. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Father ! Dear father," she said softly. 
 
 Her hand touched his cheek. A sob forced its way 
 through her lips. It was long before there was any 
 movement in the room. 
 
 " Git up ! " said the old woman at last ; and there was 
 a new tone in her voice. " You're safe. Thar hain't 
 
372 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 nary person been in this house inside o' fifteen year. 
 Thar hain't nary one would have gone aout alive if they 
 had. You can go and come." 
 
 " Why ? " asked the girl. 
 
 " Because he wants you." 
 
 Naomi looked into the old face inquiringly. 
 
 " You love him," she said ; and the words were not a 
 question. 
 
 " Love him ! " The fierceness had come back into 
 the old eyes. They burned like a flame as the woman 
 spoke. " What do you know abaout love ? You say 
 he's your father. What o' that ? Have you watched 
 him day and night for fifteen years ? Havej^z/ learned 
 to know what he wants by sounds that wouldn't mean 
 nothin' to other people ? Did you slide like a snake be- 
 hind him that was aimin' to put a shot through him, and 
 turn the death-dealer into a corpse ? Did you lift the 
 rocks that pinned him daown, and carry his crushed 
 body away in your arms ? Did you fight death while he 
 lay like a log for weeks, neither movin' nor livin', but 
 jist not dead ? Did you stand thar plumb between him 
 and dyin' till Death sneaked off worsted, and he begun 
 to live ? Did you teach him and yourself to understand, 
 till you knew what he meant near as plain as if he could 
 speak? "Your father! Lor! he's child and home and 
 life to me. Love him ! " 
 
 They stood looking at each other for a long minute. 
 Then the girl came up to the woman, close enough to 
 touch her arm. 
 
 "Did you do that?" she asked, and she made no 
 attempt to hide the tears that were in her eyes. 
 
 There was no answer. The fierce face before her 
 was working strangely. 
 
 " What did you do it for ? It was not his money." 
 
 " His money ! " 
 
 Into the eyes there leapt the fire of overmastering 
 
VISITING THE SIN 373 
 
 rage. There had been passion before, wild, ungovern- 
 able : this was of another nature, the fury of outraged 
 love. 
 
 " Gal, if hit warn't for him, you'd 'a come to your last 
 breath," said the low, hoarse voice. "Du for him for 
 money ! Git away, gal ! Git nearer to hi-im. I hain't 
 safe ! " 
 
 Naomi did not move. Her eyes were looking into 
 those burning depths before her. 
 
 " You don't understand," she said. " I know it was 
 not his money. But what was it ? He was nothing to 
 you, then when you began to help him. I'm not 
 afraid of you," she added slowly. " You love him better 
 than I do. But we both love him, and we^could not 
 hurt each other. Why did you do it before you knew 
 and loved him ? " 
 
 The woman stood with hands clenched and face work- 
 ing. She was struggling with herself. Suddenly the 
 fingers unclasped, and the hands fell. 
 
 " Thar was pain in his eyes," she said. " I couldn't 
 pass hit by. I cain't now." 
 
 The tears that had been swimming in the girl's eyes 
 so like his were falling freely. 
 
 " Tell me," she said ; and she dropped on her knees 
 by the bed, and laid her hand against her father's 
 cheek." 
 
 " Hit was six weeks atter he come through with his 
 mules," said the woman in a low, strained tone. "I 
 seed him when he fust come here. I seed him agin the 
 day the soldiers sot on him, and forced him to go with 
 'em." 
 
 " The soldiers ? Which ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 "The Southerners," replied the woman irritably. 
 " Thar warn't no Union ones at Big Creek then. They 
 come on him behind the Gap. He tried to git away, 
 but they was too many for him. Thar was jist six 
 weeks between then and the day I seed him agin." 
 
374 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 "Where?" whispered Naomi. 
 
 " In the Gap, right under them biggest cliff ts. He 
 was crawlin' among the rocks slippin' * with the 
 soldiers huntin' for him above." 
 
 She moved her brown, skinny fingers expressively. 
 Movement and words brought the scene before the girl. 
 She saw her father creeping through that wild pass, 
 darting from rock to rock, hiding from the soldiers 
 above, risking his life to get back to the boy and girl 
 waiting for him in the far away farm-house. 
 
 " Yes," she said softly. 
 
 " They'd done missed him, and was a-searchin'," con- 
 tinued the woman. " I was daown in the brush t' other 
 side o' Big Creek. I warn't aimin' to let 'em see me. 
 He was jist opposite whar I was, when he sot his foot 
 on a rock that was tol'rable slick. Hit sent him slidin' 
 aout clar inter the open. I knowed he was done for. 
 Lor ! them soldiers went for him like a streak ! The 
 bullets jist drapped raound him. He run, and then 
 drapped. I knowed he warn't shammin'. He was hit. 
 But he up and crawled away a bit later. They thought 
 he was dead, and was goin' on. They'd 'a left him, but 
 thar was one brute of a feller stopped to look over and 
 make sure. He had to lay plumb daown to see whar 
 he'd crawled to. Lor ! I'd 'a give my eyes to 'a been 
 behind him jist then. He seed him move. Lor me ! my 
 heart jumped clar inter my mouth when he tuk a rock 
 and drapped hit daown, plumb atop o' him" 
 
 She stopped. Naomi's breath seemed to have stopped, 
 too. 
 
 "Thar, that's done for ye, you deserter!" he yelled. 
 And hit fell flop. He was a man afore then, with the 
 power to move himself, if he was wounded. He was a 
 log atter." 
 
 * Stealing away. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 375 
 
 Naomi's head went down, and sobs shook her. 
 
 " Father ! " she murmured. "And we never knew." 
 
 The sobs had their way. The old woman stood look- 
 ing at the father and daughter, and the minutes passed. 
 
 " Git up, gal. He's oneasy." 
 
 The words broke in sharply on Naomi's grief. She 
 lifted her face, wet with tears, and looked at her father. 
 She could see no change. 
 
 " Git up, I tell ye," snapped the old woman. " Hain't 
 I knowin' better 'n you ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the girl submissively. 
 
 She rose, and moved back. Old China Partins took 
 her place. With words caressing as those of a mother 
 to a sick child she bent over him, and it was long before 
 she stood aside. 
 
 " He shain't be disturbed no more to-day," she said 
 decisively. " You go and set on that chist yander. He 
 can see ye if he wants, and you won't be near enough to 
 worry him." 
 
 The " chist " was an old walnut construction standing 
 upon stout legs. 
 
 Naomi sat down upon it as if stunned. The world, as 
 she knew it before she came into this log hut, had 
 vanished. The complexion of life had changed. She 
 experienced a strange feeling of unreality as she watched 
 the old woman. She wanted to ask questions about her 
 father, but refrained. She perceived that the woman 
 was acting under strong excitement. Impatience on her 
 part would increase that excitement, and defeat the end 
 she had in view. Her heart yearned over her father, so 
 near to her, and yet seemingly so hopelessly far removed. 
 Did he understand ? It was hard for her to believe that 
 the mind was even partially clear when the eyes looked 
 at her so uncomprehendingly. 
 
 It was all inconceivable bewildering. The strange 
 figure moving about before her was not stranger than 
 
376 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 the discoveries she had made since she sighted the little 
 cabin. Naomi felt constrained to watch those move- 
 ments, every one of which revealed something of the 
 character of this peculiar being who for fifteen years 
 had formed her father's one link with life. 
 
 She could only guess the object of the movements. 
 First a handful of weeds, each no thicker than her finger, 
 was brought from the pile without and laid across the 
 embers of the fire. Then, with a skilful breath, the fuel 
 was blown into a flame. Naomi could not help contrast- 
 ing the height of the wood pile outside with the dimen- 
 sions of that handful of weeds. 
 
 " I'm goin' to git supper. He's needin' hit." 
 
 The words broke the silence. 
 
 "You set jist whar you air," continued the hoarse, 
 carefully guarded voice. " He's wantin' to see ye. I'll 
 give ye some supper." 
 
 If Naomi had had leisure of mind for qualms respect- 
 ing the biscuit mixed by those long, skinny, brown 
 hands, such fears were presently set at rest. From 
 beginning to end of the preparations the claw-like nails 
 never touched the food. China Partins's biscuit was 
 mixed with a spoon, moulded with the same implement, 
 and in like manner deposited in the iron pot which in 
 due time she buried beneath the coals upon the hearth. 
 The unsmoked ham, lowered from its hook in a beam 
 above, was with great dexterity cut without the contact 
 of fingers with the meat, one sinewy old hand grasping 
 the extreme end of the bone, while with a knife sharp 
 enough for fell purposes the other sliced off layers of 
 ham from the further extremity. 
 
 It was when the meat was sizzling in the pan, and the 
 old woman, carefully holding the abnormally long 
 handle thereof, had seated herself far back from the 
 hearth, that the tension was relieved. Then the silence 
 that had throbbed with excitement was broken. 
 

 VISITING THE SIN 377 
 
 " I've done watched for ye, and worked charms agin 
 yer comin' for fifteen year, gal, and thar you air." 
 
 " Watched for me ! " 
 
 Naomi's voice was sharp with surprise. 
 
 " Watched ! Mercy, warn't thar need ? Warn't hit 
 for him more 'n myself ? Could you 'a done what I done 
 for him, a slip of a gal with no more experience than 
 a babe?" 
 
 "No," replied Naomi gently. "But how did you 
 know anything about me ? " 
 
 China Partins laughed, a hoarse, angry laugh. 
 
 " Shucks ! Thar hain't much I don't know, gal." 
 
 " Did he tell you ? " 
 
 For a moment the old eyes looked at her savagely, 
 and the lips set themselves together. It was not easy, 
 after long years of silence, for this woman to admit any 
 into her confidence. 
 
 "Maybe he did." 
 
 "Then he could speak ? " said Naomi. " Oh, tell me 
 about it. I love him, and I've lost all these years of his 
 life." 
 
 Was it intuition that made her adopt the only line of 
 argument that could have moved the strange being be- 
 fore her ? The fierce eyes did not soften, but the lips 
 unclosed again with a jerk. 
 
 "He spoke onct. Hit was afore the human snake 
 that was atter him fired the second rock. I see he was 
 aimin' to du hit, and I come through that brush right 
 smart. The murderer warn't a-noticin' me. He was 
 dead set on gittin' nearer to hi-im. He had to come 
 daown a mighty steep place. I crossed Big Creek 
 plumb afore him, and he never seed me. And then I 
 slipped, climbin' them rocks under cover so's to git 
 near him. I done hit, and crouched under one on 'em 
 right by him. He seed me. 'You're a woman/ he 
 says, slow and painful, 'and a woman's heart's always 
 
378 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 soft for the young uns. I'm dyin'. When I'm gone, 
 see them rebels don't git the money that belongs to my 
 boy and gal. Hit's in my belt.' 'Hush!' says I. 
 'I'll see to hit.' The words warn't aout o' my mouth 
 when bang come another rock plumb on him agin. He 
 never spoke atter." 
 
 Naomi's face was white. 
 
 "That man? Did he live?" she asked; and the 
 words came in a tense whisper. 
 
 "Live!" 
 
 A low, blood-curdling laugh that at another time would 
 have caused the girl to shudder seemed a fit accompani- 
 ment to the word. The old woman grasped the handle 
 of the pan firmly, gave a sharp shake that deftly turned 
 every slice of meat, and set the pan back on the fire. 
 
 " Maybe he's livin' with the devils he belonged to," 
 she said slowly. "He warn't livin' nowhars else long 
 atter he done tha-at." 
 
 The light that leapt into the girl's eyes was fierce 
 enough to be a match for that in the old ones opposite 
 to her. It expressed satisfaction, yes, and savage de- 
 light. 
 
 " How did you do it ? " she asked. 
 
 "He done hit himself. He warn't satisfied with 
 knockin' him aout of all shape : he wanted to make sure 
 thar warn't a spark o' life left. He come tearin' daown 
 between them boulders. And, as he come daown, I 
 watched my chance and crept up. I knowed whar he 
 was aimin' to stop, right on a flat stone over whar he 
 lay. He could lay him daown on that, and lean over and 
 shoot. I got thar fust, and drawed back behind a bit of 
 risin' ground. He co-ome. I knowed he would. And 
 he laid himself daown flat, and looked over with a leer 
 on his face. That thar was the last o' hi-im, so fur as 
 this world was concerned." 
 
 She stopped. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 379 
 
 " How did you do it ? " asked Naomi breathlessly. 
 
 " I had a knife, a right smart good knife. I hain't 
 a babe. I got some strength. If hit warn't druv clar 
 through his heart, hit warn't the fault o' my arm. Lor ! 
 he hadn't time to yell afore he was done sent outer this 
 world." 
 
 The girl drew a long breath. She had seen every 
 movement, as the long, sinewy arm acted out the scene 
 before her. 
 
 "And then you brought him home, here," she said 
 after a short, expressive silence. 
 
 " Thar was the rocks to move fust," said the woman. 
 "They was wedged in. Gal, I thought I was strong 
 till then. Thar's a heap o' weight in rocks." 
 
 " Yes," replied Naomi. 
 
 " Lor ! you don't know," said the old woman con- 
 temptuously. "You hain't never put yerself under 
 them and lifted till the blood poured out from yer nose and 
 the sweat rolled daown yer face in streams. I warn't 
 as strong as a kitten when I done got them rocks offn 
 him." 
 
 She stood up and took the pan from the fire, which 
 had been replenished with another handful of weeds. 
 Then she carried it to the table, and with one shake 
 transferred its contents to a plate. 
 
 "I've done got to 'tend toki-im fust/' she said. 
 
 She fed him like a baby. He ate without sign of 
 appreciation or enjoyment. The tears rolled quietly 
 down Naomi's cheeks as she saw the completeness of 
 the wreck that the savage instincts of war had wrought. 
 
 "You can come and set daown at the table. He 
 won't notice you no more. Hit's done passed, that 
 noticin' time," said the old woman at last. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Naomi, as she came 
 obediently forward. 
 
 " Thar hain't one day in ten he notices things as he's 
 
380 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 done to-day," was the reply. " Thar '11 be days naow 
 when he won't take no 'count o' nothin'. Nary thing 
 can rouse him them times. They come as sure as dark- 
 ness atter sunset, when he's had a noticin' turn this 
 away." 
 
 " Poor father ! " 
 
 Naomi forced herself to eat, that she might not dis- 
 please her hostess. Her mind was revolving plans for 
 the future. How could she part these two, after years 
 of loving service on the part of this woman who was a 
 stranger ? 
 
 " You hain't no right to du hit ! You cairit du 
 hit ! " 
 
 Were the low-spoken, decisive words an answer to her 
 thought ? She looked up hastily. 
 
 " He belongs to me more 'n he does to you," continued 
 the hoarse voice. 
 
 There was defiance in the statement. 
 
 "He belongs to us both," said Naomi quietly. " I am 
 his child : you are the saver of his life. What shall we 
 do?" 
 
 "You can come, as often as you've a mind," said the 
 old woman. " I've kep' this house shet agin everybody, 
 friend and foe, for fifteen year. Hit warn't safe for ary 
 man or woman to know he was here. I warn't aimin* to 
 lose him. And I warn't aimin' to share him with no- 
 body. Butjj/0 can come." 
 
 The words came slowly, as if the concession were 
 wrenched bit by bit out of the old heart. Naomi looked 
 at her doubtfully. 
 
 " He is my father," she said. " I have wanted him so 
 long." 
 
 " What is he to me ? Can you tend him as I can ? 
 Gal, you shairit rob me. If hit was your life or hi-im, 
 hit wouldn't take the first half of a lightnin' flash to 
 decide between 'em." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 381 
 
 The words were low, but they thrilled through the 
 girl's nerves. She did not resent them. She could not, 
 in the presence of that old, bent figure, that throbbed 
 and quivered with love for the helpless man between 
 whom and death it had stood for all these years as the 
 sole barrier. 
 
 " I don't want. I shall never try," she said. " What- 
 ever we decide, it must be what we both see is best. I 
 owe you too much to forget your claim." 
 
 " I won't live without him, gal ! " 
 
 It was her final decision, and Naomi knew it. 
 
 "Let it rest," she said. "I have no thought of dis- 
 puting your claim. I could not. I must talk to my 
 brother." 
 
 She spoke wearily. The strain of excitement was 
 telling upon her. 
 
 "I will go now," she said, "and come back again to- 
 morrow. It would be presumption to thank you." 
 
 "I hain't wantin' your thanks." 
 
 "No, I know. They are too small. You did it for 
 hi-im, and for nothing else." 
 
 She went over to the bed, and pressed one long kiss 
 on the manly forehead. The face was still as a statue. 
 She turned from it with a sob, and without a word 
 passed out into the daylight. 
 
 Was it only a few hours ago that she stood on the hill 
 looking down upon that cabin ? Only this morning that 
 she met Norah Felps ? 
 
 There came again that quick contraction of the heart 
 as the image of Norah moved across the vision. Down 
 upon her like an avalanche rushed the memory of the 
 past months, of Marshall Lane Rutherford and Abner 
 Poteet and Norah Felps. She had set herself to drive 
 out of Big Creek valley all related to Kennedy Poteet, 
 on the charge that he had murdered her father. With 
 a firm hand she had visited upon the family of the dead 
 
382 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 man an uncommitted sin. The colour blazed across her 
 face, and then left it very white. She had been so sure. 
 
 Naomi knew little of how the distance between the 
 Gap and the boarding-house was passed. She saw noth- 
 ing and heard nothing of all that was about her until a 
 footstep sounded immediately behind. It was just as 
 she was turning from the valley road into the hill path 
 to the mill. There was no need for her to ask to whom 
 the step belonged. She had come to know it well in 
 the days when Marshall Lane Rutherford was her guest 
 at the boarding-house. 
 
 His "good evening" was very grave. Naomi could 
 find in it no trace of animosity. Was it possible that it 
 would have pleased her better if she had ? What was it 
 she missed in that quiet, manly greeting? The eyes 
 that for a moment looked at her had in them none of 
 the light that was there before his illness. There was 
 neither reproach nor entreaty to be discovered in them 
 to-day. Was the girl's heart right when it translated 
 the expression of those eyes, and whispered "indiffer- 
 ence " ? 
 
 Not altogether, perhaps. The heart that loves is too 
 susceptible to the faintest influence to be a reliable 
 guide. Barometer-like, it feels the change that is only ap- 
 proaching. Marshall Rutherford had not yet come to 
 the time when he could meet this girl with indifference ; 
 but, as he passed her to-day, he fully realised that she 
 had lost the power to set the chords of joy or pain vi- 
 brating anew. She had not yet become to him exactly as 
 other girls. The consciousness of what might have been 
 remained, as well as the forcible remembrance of what 
 had been. His memories of this girl were potent ; but 
 he realised to-day that it was rather as a memory than 
 as a personality that she drew him towards her. His 
 thoughts went back to the days when he set himself 
 to know the girl who was turning the feeling in Big 
 
VISITING THE SIN 383 
 
 Creek Gap strongly against his cousin. He looked long 
 and steadily at the individuality he had found then, the 
 girl who had made his heart speak louder than his judg- 
 ment when it suggested that there was a way to con- 
 vince the young, strong will, and to turn it aside from its 
 determined purpose. 
 
 Memory went on to the time when judgment was vindi- 
 cated, and the heart shown its foolishness. They were 
 two very different pictures, these that memory drew of 
 the girl as he first knew her and the same girl when she 
 set her face like a flint against him, and turned upon 
 him, as well as upon his cousin, the full force of an an- 
 tagonistic public sentiment. 
 
 Between his eyes and the face he had just passed 
 there slowly came another, young, tender, with a yearn- 
 ing, sorrowful look in it, as he had seen it last, not an hour 
 ago. It was the face of one who might know love and 
 anger, and even passion, but who could never be steadily 
 vindictive, as could that other. 
 
 "Norah, my girl, I'm content with the change," he 
 said, and went on with a quickened step. 
 
 He had been too much engrossed to hear the voice 
 that had spoken his name. It is true the sound lacked 
 the decisive ring of Naomi's usual utterances. It died 
 away quickly. It had come quickly, as an afterthought, 
 when the mind had turned from its analysis of Marshall's 
 greeting. It came too late. 
 
384 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 "T UCKY you didn't happen to be a moment later. 
 The search party was tolerable near ready to 
 JLJstart. Half Big Creek was plumb crazy to set 
 aout to look for you." 
 
 Will Hollingsworth met Naomi at the door. Though 
 there was a laugh in his eyes, they were keenly search- 
 ing the girl's face. 
 
 " Didn't you get your supper ? " she asked coldly. 
 
 " Supper ! " he retorted. " Do you in your calm 
 senses believe that anything so commonplace and com- 
 fortable as supper could enter into ary person's mind 
 while you-u were away, nobody knew where ? " 
 
 "Then you'd better go and eat it now," she said. 
 " There is nothing to shame your appetite at the present 
 moment. I am perfectly safe, so you may enjoy your 
 supper with a clear conscience." 
 
 " Oh, supper has been over this hour," he said. Then 
 in a different tone : " Naomi, what is it ? Something 
 has troubled you." 
 
 She turned her eyes full upon him. The coldness in 
 them sent a chill over the enthusiasm of his feeling. 
 How was it that the days, as they passed, seemed to put 
 this girl further from him instead of bringing her nearer ? 
 
 He had never recovered the position lost by his attack 
 upon Marshall Rutherford. Only once after the even- 
 ing on which she confronted him with his action in that 
 very questionable affair had Naomi spoken upon the 
 subject. It was on the following day. She stopped 
 him as he was leaving the house after breakfast. 
 
 " I was short-sighted enough at one time to enter into 
 
VISITING THE SIN 385 
 
 a compact with you that was plumb certain to make a 
 fool of me," she said. "It has done it. I have had 
 enough of it. For the future let the quarrel be all my 
 own. I shall know what to do with it to suit my own 
 taste and my own ideas of honour. Hounding sick 
 men to death meets neither." 
 
 He did not attempt to defend himself, though there 
 was a gleam in his eye and a movement of his lips that 
 pointed to neither calmness nor indifference. 
 
 "You are unjust," he said. "I have been your de- 
 voted servant. If I have gone further than you would 
 have done, it was only through zeal in your cause. You 
 may say what you will, and think what you will ; I 
 shall be your servant still." 
 
 She turned from him and walked carelessly away. 
 And he ignored the ground of offence, and forced her 
 into something of the old relations. But he had never 
 recovered his lost footing. 
 
 To-night there was hot anger in his heart. What 
 did the girl mean by keeping him at arm's length like 
 this ? Did she think he had served her for naught ? 
 Did she suppose he had let her have her own way, given 
 in to her merest caprice, to be set aside thus lightly at 
 her pleasure, put on the footing of the commonest ac- 
 quaintance ? 
 
 "If you do, you ain't knowing Will Hollingsworth 
 yet," he said ; but he said it very much in the secret 
 places of his own heart. 
 
 To all appearance he was waiting patiently for her 
 answer to his sympathetic question. It was long in 
 coming. 
 
 " There is nothing that need bother you-u, nothing 
 that will in ary way affect your interests," she said 
 slowly, and would have passed on, but he took a quick 
 step forward, and stood in the way. 
 
 " Nothing that will affect me ? " he said. " Naomi, 
 
3 86 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 don't you know that everything that touches you affects 
 
 me t " 
 
 No I did not know it," she said quietly. " I 
 do not believe it. And if it were true, this is the worst 
 possible time to tell it me. You are right. Something 
 has put me aout. I am in a bad temper. You had 
 better go and eat your supper." 
 
 She turned aside and passed him, going upstairs to 
 her own room. He stood looking after her, a deepen- 
 ing scowl on his face. Two minutes later she had for- 
 gotten him, except as an acknowledged participator in 
 the hot-headed quarrel with a dead man which had left 
 her tingling with shame and burdened with remorse. 
 
 By the discoveries of to-day the whole motive of life 
 at Big Creep Gap was changed. Life at Big Creek 
 Gap ! It had been one immense blunder. She had 
 begun it full of determined confidence, sure of her own 
 position and her power of judgment. Her decision 
 allowed of neither doubt nor dissent. Kennedy Poteet 
 was her father's murderer, and she was fulfilling a 
 daughter's duty in dragging down upon him and his 
 every form of obloquy. To-day she was a convicted 
 blunderer, "something worse than a fool," as she 
 admitted scornfully. 
 
 The hot blood surged over her face as she recalled 
 her last interview in that house with Marshall Lane 
 Rutherford. " You have no cause to plead," she had 
 said. How completely the tables were turned she did 
 not need that any should tell her. 
 
 She had fastened her door and walked with a steady 
 step half across the room. Then she had stopped, 
 where the light from the window fell upon her, 
 stopped to face the situation. She was standing there 
 when daylight took its last lingering look into the room. 
 She was standing there when the stars grew bright in 
 the deep night blue of the sky. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 387 
 
 It was "a pretty night," as pretty as the one on 
 which she had refused to go with Marshall down to the 
 old house in the hollow. Except for the absence of the 
 moon, and the increased heat of the air, there was little 
 difference. But since that night all her world had 
 changed. Dalbert was working his way alone. She 
 had seen him but once since his accident, and the meet- 
 ing had been cold and unsatisfactory. Dalbert could 
 not forgive his sister for her part in the act which, but 
 for the intervention of another girl, would have cost 
 Marshall Rutherford his life. The old tie between the 
 brother and sister seemed broken for ever. 
 
 Lem never passed her without a lifting of the head 
 that revealed his inexpressible scorn for the girl who had 
 so far missed the highest of life's ideals as to prefer a 
 residence at the boarding-house, with Will Hollings- 
 worth, to a share in the destiny of Dalbert Mozingo. 
 She had never felt entirely out of sympathy with Lem 
 in the controversy. To-night she agreed with him un- 
 reservedly. 
 
 The pursuit of justice had loomed very big that evening 
 when she put it and Marshall Lane Rutherford side by 
 side, and let her prejudices decide the choice. It 
 dwindled to a mere trick word as she stood now, at the 
 end of the chase, and realised that she had pursued and 
 overtaken a shadow. 
 
 Justice ! A fine name for the persecution of an 
 innocent man ! So far as she had any right to judge 
 him, Kennedy Poteet stood acquitted to-night. And 
 what of his son the man she had followed like a 
 bloodhound ? "If ever thar was an innocent man, hit's 
 Abner Poteet." The words sounded as plainly in her 
 ears as when Marshall Rutherford stood looking into her 
 face with those keen, reproachful eyes as he said them. 
 There was no more possibility of denying the innocence. 
 And she had pursued him with high-sounding words of 
 
388 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 justice, and with implacable hatred. And through it all 
 her father was living, close to her. 
 
 It was no wonder the quiet " good evening " of Mar- 
 shall's greeting lingered in her ears as a seal upon the 
 accomplished past. She had wrought that past herself, 
 moulded it after her own pattern. His acceptance of it 
 and its consequences was made known to her in the calm 
 indifference of those formal words. She had nothing to 
 complain of. She had been in dead earnest in her 
 determination to visit the sin of Kennedy Poteet upon 
 his kinsmen, and by a strange fatality her own heart had 
 been in the path of the blow. 
 
 A big, bright star was shining straight into the girl's 
 eyes, had been shining into them for a long time, but 
 she had not seen it. Now she walked to the window 
 and looked out. She had turned from the past to the 
 future. 
 
 " I must see Dalbert to-morrow," she said, and with 
 the words a rush of longing affection went out towards 
 the brother who until now had always been one with 
 her in every plan. 
 
 "And Will Hollingsworth must find another house- 
 keeper." 
 
 The words came later, after a long silence. There 
 was in them a tone of relief. 
 
 She stood before the open window, and the night air 
 blew in upon her. Her thoughts had gone to her 
 father ; and the hard, strained look faded. 
 
 " Poor father ! " she said, and as she spoke she 
 dropped upon her knees, and lifted up her face to the 
 starlight. Just then across the valley came the low 
 sighing sound of the rising wind. It blew damp and 
 cold on the girl's head. The chill had already entered 
 into her life. 
 
 The same cool night air had earlier found its way 
 into Abner Poteet's cabin. Marshall Rutherford rose, 
 
VISITING THE SIN 389 
 
 and put a stick of wood upon the embers yet smoulder- 
 ing on the hearth. Abner got up too. 
 
 "I'm goin' to lueke atter the mules," he said. 
 "You'll hev to see to them to-morrer. They'll be 
 luekin' for their food reg'lar. You won't forgit 'em ? " 
 he added. " They hain't used to neglect." 
 
 He stopped in the middle of the floor, and looked at 
 his cousin. The rugged, sensitive face wore a look of 
 expectancy. 
 
 " Nonsense ! You'll feed them yourself to-morrow, 
 as you've done to-day," replied Marshall cheerily. "I 
 don't take no account of that dream." 
 
 " Hit'll come true," said Ab quietly. 
 
 Marshall looked at him fixedly. He was thinking of 
 the girl he had passed that afternoon, and of her uncon- 
 querable hatred of this man. 
 
 " Hit takes more than a dream to kill a man," he 
 said. " Look at me. Hit might have been all up with 
 me if some people had had their way, but I'm alive 
 yet." 
 
 " The curse warn't on you," replied Ab ; and he went 
 out into the darkness. 
 
 Under the stars he stopped. Darkness had no terrors 
 for him to-night. The unseen world was so near now 
 that it had lost its vague alarms. He drank in the cool 
 night air. 
 
 " Thar shall be no more curse," he said, looking into 
 the clear, deep blue of the sky. 
 
 Two hours later all Big Creek was abed, but Mar- 
 shall and Abner still sat by the fire. 
 
 " Thar hain't nary face on earth like hern." 
 
 The words broke a long silence. Marshall looked up 
 slowly. 
 
 " I know hit," he said. 
 
 The silence fell again. Only the crackle of burning 
 wood marked the passage of time. 
 
390 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Ab, old boy, you'd better 'a gone in and won," said 
 Marshall at last. " Not but that I should have been 
 the loser. But you've known her longer than I have." 
 
 Abner's eyes took to themselves a tender light. 
 
 " I couldn't," he said. " I was carin* too much abaout 
 he-er. Hit'd 'a hurt me more to be fear in' the curse 
 should fall on her than to shet her clar aout o' my life. 
 She warn't for me. But she's for you, Marshall and 
 thar's no more curse." 
 
 The last words came with a triumphant ring. For a 
 minute his face was radiant. Then his head drooped, 
 and he gazed steadily into the fire. 
 
 Tell her good-by for me, Marshall. The last stroke '11 
 soon fall." 
 
 The voice had grown weary. A long time had passed 
 since he spoke last. Had the old fight for renunciation 
 been waged again in those minutes wherein only the fire 
 had represented the activity of life and thought ? 
 
 Marshall looked up. 
 
 " Ab," he said, " if what you think should come true, 
 and mind you, I don't believe hit, you may rest assured 
 that while my arm can ward off evil, no curse shall ever 
 fall on her. You love her, Ab, and so do I." 
 
 If Marshall had been asking the question of his 
 own heart that night, it had given him no uncertain 
 answer. 
 
 The fire shot up a tongue of flame. The two men 
 looked into each other's faces. Then Abner's hand 
 went out and grasped that of his cousin. 
 
 "Hit's all as hit should be," he said. "Thar won't 
 no suspicion of dishonour fall on her naow. You-u hain't 
 his son." 
 
 The pressure of his fingers relaxed. 
 
 "I'll go to bed," he said. "My head's got a swim- 
 min' in hit." 
 
 It was nearly morning when Marshall fell asleep. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 391 
 
 His last look at Abner showed him the tender, mournful 
 eyes still gazing expectantly into the semi-darkness of 
 the cabin. When he awoke, the sun was streaming in 
 at the window. He lifted himself up and looked at his 
 cousin. The "last stroke" had fallen. The "visitin"' 
 was ended. 
 
 The men had been at work for half an hour that morn- 
 ing when Will Hollingsworth went to the door of the 
 mill to look out. 
 
 " Ah ! I thought as much," he said, and walked briskly 
 over to the boarding-house. 
 
 Naomi stood upon the steps, giving some last instruc- 
 tions to the elderly assistant whose presence made it 
 possible for her to leave her household duties so early. 
 
 "What are you up to now, I wonder?" said Will, 
 carrying on a mental conversation while his eyes were 
 busy with the face and figure of the girl. " You don't 
 go aout at this time of day for nothing." 
 
 " You're abroad early," he said aloud. 
 
 " Do you call this early ? " she asked indifferently. 
 
 " Well ye-es, for a busy person like the housekeeper 
 for the mill," he said. 
 
 Her eyes turned upon him with a flash in them. 
 
 " The boarding-house can take care of itself now," she 
 said slowly. " You ain't plumb in need of me ary longer. 
 Mrs. Tiller can cook for you as well as I ca-an. I'm 
 aimin' to let her do it. I'm going to see Da-al." 
 
 " How long are you aimin' to let her do it ? " he asked ; 
 and there was a hardening of his face that did not escape 
 the girl's eyes. 
 
 "For ever if she's a mi-ind to, and you've a mind 
 to let her," she said quietly. 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " 
 
 He had stopped in front of her, and stood looking up 
 into her eyes. Her position on the lower of the two 
 steps gave her an advantage over him. 
 
392 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " I'm going to see Dal, she said. " I think he needs 
 a housekeeper more than you do." 
 
 "You're aimin' to leave the boarding-house and 
 me?" 
 
 She laughed a low, cold laugh. 
 
 " You take it tragically," she said. " Did you suppose 
 I was going to leave Dal to his own devices for ever ? 
 It did not answer my purpose to run the risk of starving 
 with him ; but he is making a fair crop, and it's time we 
 turned our attention to earning more money than he's 
 doing that way. We didn't come to Big Creek Gap to 
 hang round and do nothing for ever." 
 
 She looked at him with eyes that were calmly critical. 
 
 " And am I to count for nothing ? " 
 
 She gave her shoulders a little expressive movement, 
 and looked at him with a smile. 
 
 " Mercy, no ! " she said. " You count for a right 
 smart to yourself." 
 
 " And for nothing to you ? " 
 
 He could not keep the passion out of his eyes, though 
 he tried hard. 
 
 "To me-e," she said, with a long, reflective drawl. 
 " Haven't I shown how much you count for by carrying 
 my philanthropy to the point of sacrificing Dal to his 
 fate? But my zeal is abating. You are in no more 
 danger of starving. Mrs. Tiller will see to that." 
 
 She lifted her foot to descend the step. He stopped 
 her by laying his hand on her arm. 
 
 " Do you think I care about tha-at ? " he asked 
 vehemently. "Do you suppose I built the boarding- 
 house simply that I might get better dinners and break- 
 fasts? Naomi, I built that house because I wanted 
 you-u." 
 
 " Your wants are large," she returned lightly. 
 
 "They are, very," he said. "Naomi, I want the 
 biggest thing in this world. Can I have it ? " 
 
VISITING THE SIN 393 
 
 Certainly if you can get it," she replied, and 
 stepped down upon the ground. 
 
 "I am going to get it," he said. "Naomi, I want 
 you-u" 
 
 She turned upon him eyes that had a laugh in them. 
 
 " Your wants are plumb aout of all reason," she said. 
 " Even Will Hollingsworth cannot have ev-erything he 
 sets his heart on." 
 
 " It's dead set on you-u." 
 
 The arrogance had gone from his voice. It sounded 
 as if he were in earnest. 
 
 " That is unfortunate," she said. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because it will have to be unset." 
 
 He looked at her fixedly for a moment. 
 
 "Naomi," he said, "go and see Dal, and then come 
 back to be mistress of the boarding-house. Tell Dal to 
 come back too if he's a mind. I don't care who's 
 here, or who's not here, so long as I have you." 
 
 " He would not come," said Naomi calmly. " It 
 would not meet his wishes nor mine." 
 
 " Naomi ! " 
 
 She met his gaze fully, but made him no answer. 
 
 " I want you," he said vehemently. " I have wanted 
 you ever since you came to Big Creek Gap. Don't 
 you know that that was why I desired to serve you, be- 
 cause by so doing I should serve myself ? " 
 
 "Very disinterested," she commented, musingly. 
 
 " Disinterested ? Do you suppose anybody could be 
 disinterested where you are concerned ? " he demanded. 
 " I never was, and never shall be. I've worked for you 
 faithfully. I want my pay. Let me go and tell Dal 
 to come down for the wedding. Then he can go back, 
 or stay, as he pleases." 
 
 " You want pay for serving me-e ? " 
 
 Her eyes were flashing scornfully into his. 
 
394 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " Yes," he said. " There was one reward I worked 
 for from the beginning. I claim it now." 
 
 " You are powerful modest," she said, in a low, slow 
 drawl. "I'm plumb astonished you should ask so little 
 for what you-u've done. The man that's made a fool of 
 himself and me-e before all Big Creek Gap has a right 
 to lueke for something bigger in the way of reward." 
 
 " Naomi, you don't mean it," he remonstrated. " You 
 know how untiringly I've worked for you. Big Creek 
 Gap would never have turned against Kennedy Poteet 
 and all belonging to him in the way it has done if I 
 hadn't used fair means and foul to accomplish my end." 
 
 "Mean it ? " she said, ignoring all but his first words. 
 " I mean, and have long meant, that I stumbled upon 
 the biggest mistake of my life when I made it possible 
 for you or ary other man to make a fool of me-e." 
 
 The passion was in his face now. He no longer 
 tried to hide it." 
 
 " And you answer me thus, after all I have done ? " 
 he said, in a low, angry tone. 
 
 She looked at him with a slow, enigmatical smile. 
 
 " I answer you thus after all you have done;' she 
 said. 
 
 " And you think this is the end of it ? " The words 
 burst from his lips red hot with rage. " You are mis- 
 taken. I've worked for a reward. You owe it to me, 
 and I'll have it." 
 
 She smiled again, and walked on. And he stood 
 looking after her, rage and disappointment so unmis- 
 takably evident in his face that the old woman who was 
 left to keep house muttered as she peered through the 
 window : " They're a-quarrellin'. Lor' ! hit hain't no 
 gue-ude his duin' tha-at. She's more 'n a match for 
 hi-im." 
 
 Naomi had said she was going to see Dal. It was 
 true ; yet her feet, when she left the mill, did not lead 
 
VISITING THE SIN 395 
 
 her in the direction of the Ridges. Down in the valley 
 road she paused for a moment, and then turned towards 
 Abner Poteet's cottage. 
 
 The gate was shut, and she fumbled for a minute 
 over the latch. She heard the door of the house open, 
 and felt, rather than saw, that it was not the owner of 
 the dwelling who was coming towards her. 
 
 " I'll open hit for you." 
 
 She lifted her head with a proud gesture, and met the 
 eyes of Marshall Rutherford. 
 
 " I wanted to see you and Abner Poteet," she said. 
 " I wanted to tell Abner that I did him a wrong when I 
 judged him and his father." 
 
 " Yes, you did him a wrong," said Marshall ; and voice 
 and manner were grave to sadness. 
 
 He was holding the gate open for her. She went in. 
 
 " I have been mistaken," she said slowly. " So far as 
 I am concerned, I have nothing to say against any of 
 the household of Poteet. The old man may or may not 
 have done wrong. It is not for me to judge. My father 
 is living." 
 
 He showed little surprise. His mind seemed pre-en- 
 grossed. 
 
 " I am glad for your sake," he said. Then after a 
 moment : " You wanted to tell Abner ? " 
 
 "Yes. -I did him an injustice. It is but right it 
 should be acknowledged." 
 
 He was looking at her with a strange expression upon 
 his face. 
 
 " Miss Mozingo," he said, " I tried once to tell you 
 something of the character of the man to whom you 
 did this injustice. May I tell you to-day ? " 
 
 A slight movement of the head was her only answer. 
 
 "Abner, like you," continued Marshall, "was im- 
 pressed with the certainty of his father's guilt. When 
 very young, he saw a fight between Kennedy Poteet and 
 
396 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 a stranger. That fight ended fatally for the stranger. 
 Since then men have said much about my uncle that 
 cannot be proved. The memory of the violence he had 
 seen, and the words of men around him, preyed upon 
 the mind of my cousin. Miss Mozingo, he took on 
 his own shoulders the burden you so earnestly desired 
 to put there. From a child he bore his father's sins. 
 He deemed himself accursed for the old man's sake." 
 
 He spoke slowly and reflectively, his eyes fixed on 
 the girl's face. 
 
 " If you had known as I knew the depth of sadness and 
 suffering in that heart," he continued, "you would never 
 have added to his sorrow. You once accused Ab of 
 one of these possible sins. He did not deny hit. He 
 never would. There was no curse that he did not think 
 he merited for being the son of the old man whom he 
 loved even while he trembled over his evil deeds." 
 
 The blue eyes were very sad. Their look, and the 
 words with which that look was accompanied, brought a 
 mist to the dark ones opposite. 
 
 " I am sorry. I was unjust, but I did not know it," 
 said Naomi. " I should like to tell him myself." 
 
 Marshall was still looking into her face. 
 
 "Miss Mozingo," he said gently, "there are times 
 when our knowledge comes too late." 
 
 Then, as her eyes grew startled beneath his gaze, he 
 added : " Will you come in ? I cannot promise you that 
 you will ever explain to Ab." 
 
 She followed him wonderingly. At the door he stood 
 aside. 
 
 " Will you go in to the inner room ? " he said. 
 
 She stepped across the bare room where she had 
 once waited so long for Abner, and came to the inner 
 door. There she stopped, with a quick contraction of 
 the heart. 
 
 Upon the bed lay the calm face of the man she had 
 
VISITING THE SIN 397 
 
 come to see. No, she would never explain to Abner 
 Poteet. 
 
 The face that she turned towards Marshall was white 
 as the one upon the bed. She did not speak, but only 
 lifted her eyes questioningly to his. 
 
 "He was expecting hit," said Marshall gently. " Two 
 months ago he had a dream, a foreshadowing of this 
 day. Miss Mozingo, his death was the bearing of the 
 last of the sins of his father. He believed that hit 
 would come as the final punishment of those sins. He 
 believed hit would come last night." 
 
 . " Was he ill ? " asked the girl, in a low, awe-struck 
 voice, 
 
 "He was in perfect health, so fur as we knew," 
 replied Marshall. "But he waited for death as the 
 last stroke in the bearing of his father's sins. Hit came 
 on the very night when he expected hit." 
 
 " And if he had known, it might have been different," 
 said Naomi. 
 
 " I cannot tell," replied Marshall. " He died for his 
 father's sins." 
 
 She stood looking at that still, calm face. It showed 
 more happiness than had been seen upon it for months. 
 A long, low sigh escaped her lips. She turned to 
 Marshall. 
 
 "It is too late to undo the injury to him," she said. 
 "But I injured you too. I acknowledge it. I was 
 mistaken and altogether in the wrong." 
 
 He looked at her for a moment. Then he held out 
 his hand. 
 
 " Hit mattered less to me than to him," he said ; "but 
 hit did matter." 
 
 Was the slight stress on that "did" intentional? 
 Was he telling her that though it mattered much then 
 it mattered little to-day ? 
 
 She turned away. 
 
39 8 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " I am very sorry for your sorrow, and for my part 
 in it," she said. 
 
 She went out of the door and along the valley road, 
 not knowing which way she walked. She had said that 
 the time should come when the son of Kennedy Poteet 
 would be glad to leave the valley of Big Creek. He 
 had left it, and the calm smile upon his face told her 
 that he left it gladly. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 399 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 "TT yOWDY!" 
 
 I I Naomi looked up unseeingly. It was nearly 
 A JL half a minute before she realised that she was 
 staring into the face of Lem Sutton. 
 
 "You down here?" she said, bringing tongue and 
 brain again under a measure of control. 
 
 The boy nodded. 
 
 " We-uns hev got all the corn laid down," he explained. 
 " We hain't so powerful hard druv naow. Goin' to start 
 up for the Gap ? " 
 
 It was proof of extraordinary preoccupation that the 
 significance of the question escaped Naomi's notice. 
 
 " No, I'm going to see Dal," she said. " Is he at the 
 farm ? " 
 
 " Lor, no ! " responded the boy. "He hain't thar. 
 He's gone to Hickory Creek." 
 
 Now the way to Hickory Creek lay through the Gap. 
 
 " Is he coming back to-night ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 " I reckon," replied Lem. " I hain't plumb sure. 
 Dai's got powerful important business thar," he added, 
 after a momentary silence. "He hain't calc'latin' to 
 stop a right smart longer at the farm. We-all are 
 aimin' to git the control of a mill." 
 
 He glanced casually at Naomi as he spoke, and car- 
 ried his head no more proudly than was warrantable for 
 a boy who had a right to say " we-all " in reference to 
 Dalbert and himself. 
 
 Naomi did not smile, even to herself. She failed to 
 appreciate the situation, except in so far as it pointed 
 to a change of plan on the part of her brother. 
 
400 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " When he gets home, tell him to come and see me. 
 There is something I want to talk to him about di- 
 rectly," she said. 
 
 She turned and walked back, and scarcely noticed 
 that Lem passed her briskly, his bare feet kicking up 
 the dust along the dry road. Presently she went in 
 among the trees, and sat down to rest. A feeling of 
 weariness had overtaken her. She could not see Dal 
 to-day, and no decision could be arrived at without him. 
 The necessity for action was over for the time being, 
 and with it the stimulus it had afforded. Just at the 
 moment nothing but the failure remained, the failure 
 of life at Big Creek. She sat thinking of it, or rather 
 letting the consciousness of it come and go as it would, 
 without volition on her part. 
 
 The two faces she had just seen blended in that ret- 
 rospect, the calm, still countenance of Abner Poteet, 
 and the other, from which the blue eyes had looked 
 sadly. She had never really seen Abner until she saw 
 him lying dead that morning. The face of the man she 
 had persecuted had worn for her a look she failed to 
 find to-day. She wondered now that its patient, sor- 
 rowful nobility had not convinced her. But she had not 
 seen that nobility before, though it was stamped on 
 every feature. She began to understand dimly that 
 perfect sight requires an open heart as well as open 
 eyes. 
 
 It was not until she heard footsteps approaching that 
 she rose and went on towards the valley road. She 
 had turned into a cross path that led in the direction of 
 her brother's farm. Now she began to walk quickly. 
 Across the vision had come the image of her father. 
 A longing to pierce the silence that surrounded him 
 possessed her. Had he really betrayed any knowledge 
 of her presence, or did the manifestation of interest 
 perceived by China Partins exist solely in her imagina- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 401 
 
 tion ? What was to be the outcome of it all ? If the 
 old woman could be persuaded to make any change, 
 would it be for her father's good ? Naomi did not for 
 a moment question the right of China Partins to have 
 a voice in the decision. Fifteen years of devoted ser- 
 vice constituted a claim not to be lightly set aside. 
 She must confer with her brother, and seek to evolve 
 some plan for the future ; but, after all, the real deci- 
 sion rested with China Partins. 
 
 Naomi was going to see the old woman now. She 
 could not stay away. Yearning love for her father 
 drew her towards the Gap. She wanted to be near 
 him, to hear more about him. She knew that the un- 
 speaking gaze of those dark eyes would send the blood 
 chilled to her heart, and convince her anew of the hope- 
 lessness of her longing for one sign of recognition ; but 
 her feet carried her none the less swiftly to the cabin. 
 She did not stop on the high rock to look down upon 
 the dwelling as she had done yesterday. She de- 
 scended the steep path at a run. 
 
 " Thar hain't nary bit o* use none on ye comin' here 
 to-day." 
 
 China Partins stood in the doorway, defiant wrath 
 stamped on every feature. The shutter had been re- 
 placed on its hinge, and was flung open wide, giving the 
 summer breeze free access to the house. The attitude 
 of the old woman suggested the thought that the breeze 
 was the only thing that was free to enter there. 
 
 "There's nobody else coming," replied Naomi. "I 
 have not seen my brother. He is away." 
 
 " He warn't away this mornin'," retorted the custo- 
 dian of the door wrathfully. 
 
 Naomi looked up. 
 
 " Has he been here ? " she asked wonderingly, 
 
 An expressive sniff was the sole response. 
 
 " Does he know ? Did you tell him ? " 
 
402 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Naomi's tone was eager. 
 
 "Tell him ? No, I didn't." The words broke angrily 
 from the old lips. " I didn't tell him nothin'. I hain't 
 goin' to tell none on ye nothin'. You hain't no right 
 here. This house hain't yourn and he hain't yourn. 
 He's mine." 
 
 " I'm not disputing your claim. I have no intention 
 of disputing it," said Naomi quietly. " Your loving care 
 of my father gives you the first right to a voice in the 
 decision that must be arrived at. But you cannot deny 
 that his children also have rights." 
 
 " Rights ? Who said they hadn't ? " retorted the old 
 woman. " I hain't wantin' to deprive ye of yer rights. 
 Hain't I kep' the money for ye all these years ? That's 
 your right. I hain't defrauding ye of hit. He asked 
 me to keep hit for ye. I've kep' hit. You can come in 
 and git hit." 
 
 Naomi looked at her steadily. 
 
 "The money he sold his mules for ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, hit's yourn. 7 hain't wantin' to cheat ye aout 
 o' none o' yer rights," was the indignant answer. 
 
 " And you have not used it all these years ? " ques- 
 tioned the girl. 
 
 " Used hit ? " retorted the old woman fiercely. " Du 
 you think I was atter his money ? " 
 
 "No we are neither of us after it," said Naomi 
 quietly. "We are both after something of more im- 
 portance. But you had a right to use it for him. 
 You have fed and cared for him all these years." 
 
 " Fed him ! " responded China Part ins in an angry, 
 scornful voice. " Would you have me count what went 
 into his mouth ? Gal, you hain't knowin' nothin'." 
 
 "Yes, I am," replied Naomi. " I know that your only 
 thought was for him. I know it was pity and love that 
 caused you to do it all. But that did not make it 
 necessary to injure yourself." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 403 
 
 "Thar hain't a cent of hit touched, and thar hain't 
 like to be," said the woman fiercely. "That's yourn. 
 But he hain't yourn. You hain't got no shadder of a 
 claim by the side o' mine. Gal, thar hain't no power 
 nowhars that can make me give him up." 
 
 " Did my brother ask it ? " demanded Naomi gently. 
 
 The fierce eyes flamed. 
 
 "He didn't ask nothin'. He tuk hit for granted he'd 
 a right to du jist what he said," she snapped. 
 
 " But not after you told him ? Not when he knew ? " 
 persisted Naomi. 
 
 " I didn't tell him nary thing but to git aout o' my 
 house. And he done hit," said the old woman signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 " When did he come ? " 
 
 "This morninV 
 
 " How did he find aout ? I have not seen him," ex- 
 claimed Naomi. 
 
 The contemptuous grunt that served as reply might 
 be interpreted according to the discretion of the listener. 
 China Partins still stood blocking the doorway. 
 
 " Did he see him ? " asked Naomi. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The word passed the old lips with a savage snap. 
 
 " Do you think that my father knew him ? You said 
 that he knew me." 
 
 The question went out upon the summer air. If it 
 reached the ears of China Partins, it elicited no response 
 from her. Her tall, bent form filled the doorway as per- 
 sistently as at first. Naomi looked at her with some 
 perplexity. 
 
 " You told me I might come and go," she said. " If 
 he is yours, he is mine too." 
 
 The sharp eyes under the shaggy white eyebrows 
 looked down at her. China Partins neither stirred nor 
 spoke. 
 
404 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " He belongs to us both," continued the young, clear 
 voice. " You can no more deny me my right than I can 
 deny yours." 
 
 The old eyes were still fixed on her face. They did 
 not waver in their steady gaze, nor did the expression of 
 the countenance change. But after a silence, in which 
 Naomi's eyes met those others unflinchingly, China 
 Partins suddenly moved aside. Naomi went into the 
 cabin. 
 
 The girl did not repeat the question she had asked of 
 the old woman. . One glance at her father's face an- 
 swered it for her. No, he had not recognised Dalbert. 
 He would not recognise her. She knew now that there 
 had been intelligence in the eyes that looked into hers 
 yesterday, knew it by the absence of that intelligence 
 to-day. There was no more need to ask "Does he 
 know ? " His gaze was the stare of vacancy. 
 
 Her eyes, misty with tears, turned to the seamed face 
 of the old woman. 
 
 " Is it often so ? " she asked. 
 
 China Partins looked from the girl to the form of the 
 man towards whom for fifteen years the strength of brain 
 and heart had gone out in a ceaseless effort to force 
 from injured nature a measure of concession, a partial 
 reversal of her normal course ; and into the time-hardened 
 countenance came a look of sorrow. 
 
 " I told you you could come and go," she said slowly. 
 "That was yesterday. I hain't sayin' hit to-day. Hit 
 hain't all right with him. You done worked mischief." 
 
 Naomi looked at her with startled eyes. 
 
 "Is he ill?" she asked. "Is it something unusual, 
 his lying thus ? " 
 
 " His not takin' notice ? " responded China Partins. 
 " No, hit hain't. Hit comes atter every noticin' time. 
 But he hain't well. He's been excited. Thar shain't 
 nothin' from outside touch him no more. You hain't 
 
VISITING THE SIN 405 
 
 knowin'. How should you ? You cain't know ; you're 
 fools, both on ye. But I hain't no fool, and I've done 
 stood betwixt him and harm this fifteen year. Hit hain't 
 a slip of a gal and boy that's goin' to undo my work." 
 
 " We don't want to undo it," said Naomi. " Do you 
 think we would hurt hint ? " 
 
 The old woman sniffed contemptuously. 
 
 " A smart sight you know whether you're hurtin' him 
 or not," she said. 
 
 Then there was silence. Naomi was looking down at 
 her father. Was it fancy, or was there a pallor about 
 the flesh that had been absent yesterday ? The right 
 hand, the one that was not disabled, lay outside upon the 
 bed-clothes. She touched it softly. As she did so, a 
 low cry rose to her lips. She had been looking at that 
 hand for a long time. She had only now discovered a 
 ring upon the little finger. 
 
 A short, contemptuous laugh came as a response to 
 the cry. China Partins did not ask what had forced 
 that exclamation from the girl. She knew even before 
 it had fairly passed her lips. 
 
 " Findin' you're a bigger fool than you knowed, hain't 
 ye ? " she said. 
 
 " How did it come there ? " gasped Naomi, stooping to 
 look more closely at the thin gold circlet and its one 
 common little stone. 
 
 " Hit never was nowhars else, exceptin' on his other 
 hand," replied the old woman. "He done wanted hit 
 on the hand he could move." 
 
 "But I found it his ring in the bone cave," said 
 Naomi, her voice sharp with the note of perplexity. 
 
 China Partins laughed a low, hoarse laugh. 
 
 " You done seed what your eyes was luekin' for," she 
 said scornfully. " Lor ! gal, the ring you found hadn't 
 sich a big stone as hisn by a smart sight. Hit was the 
 same colour, and the settin' was the same, but the ring 
 warn't worth as much as hisn." 
 
406 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 The surprise in Naomi's eyes approached to awe. 
 Was there no circumstance of her life in Big Creek that 
 this woman was not familiar with ? 
 
 "How did you know what it looked like, the ring I 
 found?" she asked. 
 
 " Lor ! hit hain't an uncommon ring, or useter wasn't 
 when I was young," said China Partins. "Thar was 
 more 'n one had its match. Sixty year ago come June I 
 bought me that ring." 
 
 "Then it was yours?" ejaculated Naomi. 
 
 "I reckon," came the emphatic reply. "I hain't 
 knowin' whose hit's like to be if hit hain't mine. Least- 
 ways hit was lost tol'rable nigh to whar yourn was 
 found." 
 
 " In the bone cave ? " asked Naomi in astonishment. 
 
 " Thar warn't no call for hit to be inside. The edge 
 o' the cave was nigh enough," said China Partins shortly. 
 
 " And you lost it there ? " 
 
 "I reckon. Twenty-five year ago this next fust o' 
 March was the day I done went aout with that ring on 
 my finger and come back without hit. I calc'late thar 
 wouldn't 'a been no sich convincin' evidence of Kennedy 
 Poteet's guilt for you to unearth if I hadn't run a power- 
 ful big splinter inter my hand out thar in the woods grub- 
 bin' for roots. Gal, hit bled. Hit bled plumb bad. I had 
 to use mighty strong Bible words to stop the flow o' 
 blood. Thar wouldn't no ordinary means du hit. Hit 
 stopped then plumb. But I went home and done for- 
 got my basket o' roots. And hit warn't till night that 
 I missed the ring. Thar come a thunder shower that 
 night, and a right smart o' rain." 
 
 " And it washed the ring into the cave ? " said Naomi. 
 
 "Hit warn't outside atter that rain," replied China 
 Partins significantly. " I done hunted over every inch 
 o' the ground. Hit never seed daylight no more till 
 you rubbed the mud offn hit and knowed hit sure for 
 yourn." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 407 
 
 "Why didn't you tell me?" questioned Naomi re- 
 proachfully. " It would have prevented much misunder- 
 standing." 
 
 The old lips broadened into a contemptuous smile. 
 
 " Lor ! I warn't in no hurry for ye to know," she said. 
 " Hit warn't makin' no trouble for me-e. Thar's a lot o' 
 guede in a fool's folly if you know how to git hit aout." 
 
 She shut her lips, and looked with those keen old eyes 
 into the girl's face. It was not as well under control as 
 usual. It had lost its calm confidence. Bit by bit the 
 standing ground of Naomi's certainty had been swept 
 away. There remained now not even the semblance of 
 excuse for her determined attack upon Kennedy Poteet. 
 "Knowed hit so sure for her own!" Was there any- 
 thing she had not known for sure ? And was there a 
 single case in which her judgment had not been at fault ? 
 
 She stood looking at the ring upon her father's hand. 
 
 " I reckon thar hain't no guede waitin'. You might 
 as well take hit to-day as ary other time." 
 
 The voice of China Partins broke the silence. Just 
 how long it had lasted perhaps neither of the two could 
 have told very positively. 
 
 " Take what ? " 
 
 The girl's lips moved stiffly. 
 
 " The money. / hain't wantin' to defraud ye of none 
 of yer rights." 
 
 " My rights ! " 
 
 The laugh that accompanied the words was a mirth- 
 less one. Ever since she came to Big Creek Naomi 
 had been pushing her claims to the front. She never 
 felt less like urging them than to-day. 
 
 China Partins walked across to the broad hearth. 
 With no trace of excitement she stooped over the dust- 
 strewn bricks, and removed a couple from their place. 
 Then, while she knelt before the hole, the claw-shaped 
 nails went to scraping. 
 
408 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 It was strange how little interest either of the two 
 felt at that moment in the treasure which had been 
 hidden under that hearth for years. To the woman 
 who had concealed it, though she was no despiser of 
 money as a rule, it was of less moment than the ashes 
 that had sifted down upon its resting-place compared 
 with the other treasure at issue. Naomi's thoughts 
 were of the past, the misguided, misinterpreted past 
 that had shaped the present. She watched the old 
 woman remove the gathered dust of years, and take 
 out a slab of wood. If she had peered into the cayity 
 thus laid bare, she would have seen nothing to draw her 
 thoughts from that past. The long, muscular arm had 
 to reach far under until it was buried to the elbow be- 
 fore it brought out a tin can, carefully tied down. But 
 when the can was opened Naomi forgot the immediate 
 past in her memories of the more remote. The old 
 leather belt, with pouch attached, had many a time 
 rested in her small hands in the days when the bag was 
 her father's receptacle for his savings. The sight of it 
 brought the tears to her eyes. China Partins brushed 
 the dust from its surface, and held it out towards her. 
 
 "Thar, that's yourn ; and thar hain't a cent missin'," 
 she said. 
 
 Naomi took the leather bag, and turned it over with 
 ringers that trembled. 
 
 " Count hit," said the old woman peremptorily. " I 
 hain't aimin' to have no misunderstandin' abaout tha-at. 
 Hit's all thar, jist as I got hit offn him at the fust." 
 
 Naomi emptied the pouch, turning the contents on to 
 the table. 
 
 " Hit hain't Confederate money," said the old woman. 
 " He done sold his mules to a Northerner." 
 
 A thrill went through the girl's fingers as they 
 separated the money. The touch of it carried her back 
 to the transaction to which it belonged. She remem- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 409 
 
 bered the big drove of mules it represented, many of 
 them raised on her father's farm, the rest bought from 
 neighbours. She remembered her father's anxiety lest 
 the venture should prove a failure, his plans for the dis- 
 posal of the gains if it were a success. 
 
 " Five thousand dollars, hain't thar ? " 
 
 The voice of China Partins broke in on her thoughts. 
 
 "Exactly five thousand." 
 
 "That's hit. Thar warn't neither more nor less in 
 thar. That's what he wanted me to keep for you. 
 I've kep' hit. Thar is more, though." 
 
 Advancing to the table, she shook the tin can over it. 
 A packet wrapped in a piece of old newspaper fell out 
 with a thud. 
 
 "That's the loose money he had in his pockets. 
 I reckon he was a-savin' hit to git home with." 
 
 She stood in grim silence while the time-worn paper 
 was unwrapped, disclosing five dollars and a few odd 
 coins. Then she spoke. 
 
 " You cain't say I'm atter robbin' ye of yer rights ! " 
 
 Naomi glanced from the money to the bed. She 
 made no answer in words. When she looked back into 
 the old face it had grown harder. 
 
 "You can take that money, and you can go," said 
 China Partins. " And you needn't to come back. Till 
 the mischief you've done managed to dti is undone, thar 
 shain't a soul on this earth enter my door. You can 
 tell that brother of yourn so. I told you you could 
 come. You can when I call for ye. But, gal, 
 if you try, or he tries, to git the better o' China Partins, 
 you'll larn she hain't lived a hundred years for note." 
 
 " You won't let me come to see him ? " asked Naomi 
 quickly, a frown gathering upon the face that memo- 
 ries of the past had softened. 
 
 "No, I wont" said the woman savagely. "I hain't 
 goin' to run the risk of lettin' harm come nigh him, if I 
 
4 io VISITING THE SIN 
 
 have to fight for him agin as I fit at the fust. Gal, 
 don't you presume. Thar was danger when you come 
 pokin' round here, breakin' off my shutter and pushin' 
 yourself whar you hadn't a mite o' right to come. But 
 that was powerful safe by the side of the danger o' 
 duin' aught that could bring harm to hi-im. You might 
 'a lit on death then, thar won't be no ' might ' abaout 
 hit if hit comes to tha-at. " 
 
 Naomi looked into those fierce, determined eyes, and 
 believed that China Partins spoke truly. There would 
 be no doubt of the result if any act of man or woman 
 should work evil to that still figure upon the bed. 
 
 " To hurt him would be my loss as much as yours," 
 she said. " You forget that I love him too." 
 
 "Love!" snorted the old woman contemptuously. 
 "What do you know abaout tha-at? If thar is any 
 love, you can show hit by stayin' away. I've got to 
 have him to myself. I've done got to fight the sick 
 aout of him. I hain't wantin* ye here, and you hain't 
 comin'." 
 
 She advanced suddenly, and put both strong, muscu- 
 lar hands on the girl's shoulders. She spoke no word, 
 but the old eyes looked into the young ones, which 
 were held fascinated. Naomi had thought she had 
 read those eyes before, at least in part. Now she knew 
 that they were beyond her powers of deciphering. 
 
 " Now go ! " 
 
 The hands were removed suddenly from her shoul- 
 ders. Their hasty withdrawal caused her to stagger. 
 
 "If I go, it is because I am afraid of injuring him" 
 she said quietly. " I would do anything, even to stay- 
 ing away from him, if it were for his good. But why 
 should my coming harm him ? I will leave you quite 
 alone till after to-morrow. Then you must let me 
 come. If I find that it hurts him, I will keep out of 
 his sight." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 411 
 
 They looked at each other. 
 
 " You won't come in here no more till thar's a 
 change," said China Partins slowly. "And when that 
 comes, I'll tell ye. Now take that thar money and go." 
 
 " Do you think it is worth any more to me than to 
 you ? " asked the girl. 
 
 " I hain't thinkin' nothin' abaout hit," was the reply. 
 " Hit's yourn. I hain't wantin' hit. I'm wantin' the 
 chance to du the best for hi-im." 
 
 Something in her tone won the day. Was it a touch 
 of wistfulness, a faint breath of entreaty ? 
 
 " I will go," said Naomi, and passed out of the door 
 without approaching her father. 
 
 Even China Partins did not see two bright eyes that 
 followed the girl's movements from the moment she 
 appeared in the doorway till she stood upon the rock 
 above. But China Partins was preoccupied, and her 
 thoughts were not of so insignificant a subject as a half- 
 grown lad. Moreover, Lem was good at hiding. 
 
 " I hain't set him on the track none too soon," mut- 
 tered the boy. "Thar is somethin' betwixt 'em. I 
 wonder what the sick feller with her eyes has got to du 
 with hit. Whew ! " 
 
 That shrill whistle betrayed two things, the pres- 
 ence of Lem Sutton and the advent of a new idea. 
 Lem dropped behind the rock that had hidden him. 
 
 " What are you duin' here ? " 
 
 Claw-like fingers bent themselves round the boy's 
 ear, and Lem had the choice of freedom, with the loss 
 of a member that was in his case rather more than or- 
 dinarily useful, or present captivity to the fierce old 
 woman whose eyes blazed down at him. 
 
 " Lor ! I was only restin' a bit," he said. " My ! 
 hain't your nails sharp ? Better be atter cuttin' 'em." 
 
 The answer was a tightening of those nails about his 
 ear, every separate one digging into the flesh with a 
 
4 i2 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 savage certainty that Lem found more convincing than 
 words. And when there had been time for the elo- 
 quence of the nails to take effect, the old lips opened, 
 and words blood-curdling in their obscurity were hissed 
 into the ear that was at leisure to receive them. What 
 those words foretold, whether they were threat of future 
 evil or promise of present retribution, Lem did not know. 
 He did know that the old eyes drew his and held them, 
 and that he was impelled to look into the flame of their 
 fierce light. 
 
 The fingers relaxed before the eyes set him free. 
 He was rubbing his ear and feeling of the dents as the 
 blood came back to it, while yet he stood captive, held 
 by those glaring old eyes so near his own. 
 
 " Thar's all Big Creek for you-u to kick yer heels in," 
 said the old woman, after the sound of the charm had 
 died away. " And thar hain't nary place no danger but 
 thisn. Lor ! boy, hain't you heared China Partins was a 
 wi-itch ? Thar don't nobody come near he-er without 
 her knowin'. And thar don't nobody contrairy her for 
 note. You better lueke aout plumb sharp. Thar's a 
 hundred ways I can fix you-u. Lor ! thar's no tellin' 
 what will come to ye if you don't keep away from 
 here." 
 
 She removed her eyes from his face. Lem stood for 
 a moment dazed. Then he backed out of the reach of 
 that long arm. 
 
 " You hain't knowin' plumb everything, if you are a 
 witch," he said, and darted away. 
 
 " If she's so powerful knowin', why didn't she see me 
 peek in t'other time ? " demanded Lem, as he rubbed 
 the unfortunate ear and made a quick and somewhat 
 perilous descent into the Gap by a route less circuitous 
 than that by which Naomi was returning to the village. 
 " Lor me ! I'm powerful glad I got on the scent. Hit's 
 her dad, sure, the feller old Ken killed and stuck in the 
 cave. Lor ! hit was time I come to Big Creek." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 413 
 
 And Lem struck the road like an India rubber ball, 
 and almost ran over Will Hollingsworth. 
 
 " Been up above with your friend Naomi, eh ? " asked 
 Will, in an insinuating tone. 
 
 " Naomi Mozingo ? " questioned the boy stonily. 
 " Did she come this away ? I seed her goin' to the 
 Ridges atter Dal a right smart ago. I'm huntin' 
 squirrels. Ever try to knock 'em down with a stone ? 
 Lor ! you can du hit ! " 
 
 He kicked a pair of bare heels in the dust, and left 
 Will to his meditations, which lasted till the figure of a 
 girl came in sight at the farthest point visible from 
 where he stood. Then Will Hollingsworth also turned 
 homeward, and left the pass to the girl. 
 
414 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 IT does not take forty-eight hours to alter the fate of 
 countries or mar the lives of individuals. The wheels 
 of life move slowly, but there comes a specific turn 
 that, while it carries them not a hair's breadth further 
 than any previous revolution, alters the relative positions 
 of the good, that like a light approached shone always 
 ahead, and the evil, looming up vaguely portentous in 
 the darkness beyond. 
 
 Naomi had promised to remain away from the cottage 
 upon the mountain for the space of two days. She saw 
 no actual necessity for the promise, but the will of 
 China Partins was strong. Moreover the suggestion of 
 the possibility that her appearance had injured her 
 father made her unwilling to run any risk. She stayed 
 down in the valley, and waited for the coming of Dalbert. 
 China Partins had insisted on being left alone with 
 her charge. Her eye, trained to note every change in 
 his condition, saw occasion for uneasiness. It suggested 
 no ground for positive fear. She had confidence in her 
 skill in fighting disease and injury. She had literally 
 stood between her patient and death all these years, and 
 she was rather anxious than fearful now. There had 
 never been a time when it was absolutely safe to relax 
 her vigilance. She was less inclined to do so at the 
 present moment than ever before. "A gal and boy 
 that hadn't enough sense to keep from makin* fools of 
 themselves before the world warn't goin' to undo her 
 work. If they didn't know what was for the guede of 
 everybody concerned, she did. China Partins warn't no 
 fool, and warn't to be got the best on by them that 
 was." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 415 
 
 She had turned out the disturbing causes, both in one 
 day, and now she gave herself up to the care of her 
 patient. In the coming of Naomi she had met with a 
 measure of defeat. She was not looking for more. She 
 had long ago foreseen danger in the appearance of the 
 children of Dalbert Mozingo in the valley of Big Creek. 
 When her eyes first rested upon the girl's face, she had 
 had a vision of good represented to her by the pres- 
 ence of that helpless being about whom every fibre of 
 her heart had twisted and knotted itself in an abandon- 
 ment of affection that grew out of her isolated and joy- 
 less life coming within a measurable distance of its 
 end. That she should be robbed of her charge was the 
 biggest ill that life held for her. She had set herself to 
 prevent the catastrophe. " Thar was means," and China 
 Partins had made use of them. Charm and incantation, 
 and the cunning perfected by a century's practice, had 
 been brought into play to keep the girl from that lonely 
 hut in the mountains. And now, with the game no 
 longer in her own hands, China Partins was prepared 
 for yet another struggle. 
 
 " They shain't cheat me of hi-im," she said ; and the 
 lips set themselves like rims of steel. " Thar shain't no- 
 body rob me of him, nor nobody touch him. He's 
 mine. He hain't theirn. They hain't no right to him, 
 and they hain't goin' to have him. When China Partins 
 is robbed of the one thing she ever sot store by in this 
 world, thar '11 be somebody layin' dead araound this 
 away." 
 
 The lips came to with a snap, and the eyes glittered. 
 She knew what she was talking about. It would be no 
 easy thing to rob her of her treasure. There were not 
 many men who would have cared to storm the house of 
 China Partins. She was known as an unerring shot, 
 and gun and pistol were never far out of reach of her 
 hand when the mistress of the log cabin was at home. 
 
416 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 A short, contemptuous laugh was her comment on the 
 thought that possibly Dalbert Mozingo might seek to 
 enforce his claim by an appeal to the sheriff. 
 
 "Thar hain't no sheriff fool enough to try hit," she 
 muttered. "The gal and boy have got to listen to 
 reason." 
 
 And in the end defeat came suddenly, and not as a 
 result of a refusal of the "gal and boy" to listen to 
 reason. The wheels of life had reached the particular 
 revolution that contained the dividing moment between 
 the cherished joy, which became of the past, and the ill, 
 that out of menacing obscurity leapt into the position of 
 present reality. 
 
 China Partins was looking for difficulty preparing 
 for conflict. She was not looking for that which came. 
 
 The symptoms of failure on the part of her patient had 
 increased in the day that followed Naomi's second visit 
 to the cabin. She recognised the necessity for vigour 
 in her fight against this new onslaught of evil. There 
 was no danger that threatened her charge that did not 
 find her on the alert. She was fighting this particular 
 form of danger when the sun went down, fighting it 
 grimly enough, but with no real fear of the result. She 
 was fighting it when the morning dawned. But when 
 the sun lifted himself clear of the hills, and sent his 
 bold beams across the cottage, she was fighting it no 
 longer. The two principals in the conflict stood face to 
 face, and China Partins was not the conqueror. The 
 fifteen years' unceasing fight over the half dormant life 
 of Dalbert Mozingo, the elder, was ended with strange 
 suddenness. If the name of the bold aggressor had 
 been any other than Death, China Partins had not been 
 robbed of her treasure. 
 
 By intuition, as well as by close observation, the old 
 woman had long known that the thread of life was liable 
 to snap. Dalbert Mozingo was not weak in the sense 
 
VISITING THE SIN 417 
 
 of general frailty. The face that had so long lain upon 
 the pillow was that of a well-nourished and ordinarily 
 strong man ; but the injuries he had received had been 
 of such a character that a strain upon the vital forces, 
 a shock to the system, or an unforeseen accident, might 
 at any time sever his connection with life. Yet it was 
 not in death, but in the possible interference with her 
 rights, that China Partins had seen the coming evil. 
 She had cried, " Give place ! " to Dalbert Mozingo's 
 children. There was no giving place with death. 
 
 "He's done gone!" 
 
 The old woman stood over the bed with a wild sur- 
 prise in her eyes. She had many a time fought for his 
 life with greater fear than had possessed her that night. 
 
 "I shain't never stand betwixt him and death no 
 more ! " 
 
 The thin, wiry fingers bent themselves, and then 
 struck out, as against an imaginary foe, with all the 
 force of the sinewy arm behind them. There was fight 
 enough left in that old heart yet to defy death himself. 
 
 The silence in the room was such as broods over a 
 double death, the departure of a life and the death of 
 hope. Suddenly a hoarse voice broke the frozen silence 
 with a low, passionate dirge, strange mixture of Bible 
 phrases and heathen incantations, a wild, savage protest 
 against fate. Incoherent, only half audible, it grew clear 
 enough for the final words to be distinguished. 
 
 " A worm o' the dust, trod daown and beat inter the 
 earth and bruised. Ay, sore bruised, but not crushed. 
 Lor, no ! thar's turn in the worm yit. The wisdom o' 
 serpents. Lor ! hit's true. Thar's critters grovellin' in 
 the dust that hain't so easy got the better on as the 
 worm. Conquered ? Separated ? Done forced to give 
 him up ? No ! " 
 
 Then with a quick movement the whole figure changed 
 its aspect. The tall form drew itself up with a mighty 
 
4 i8 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 effort till the contracted muscles acknowledged the com- 
 pelling force and the bent shoulders straightened, lifting 
 the head inches above its ordinary height ; the long arm 
 reached forth with the forefinger pointing into space ; and 
 the eyes, that had been vaguely wandering, shone with a 
 peculiar light. 
 
 " You done thought to git the best o' me ! You done 
 aimed to separate us ! Lor ! you cairit. Hit'd take 
 more 'n Death to du tha-at. All the world may be 
 afraid on ye because your name's Death. / hain't. 
 Thar is ways. China Partins hain't come to her last 
 fight yit." 
 
 The arm dropped, the muscles of the figure relaxed, 
 the shoulders bowed themselves more than ever before ; 
 and the old woman bent over the bed. Tenderly her 
 fingers stroked the stiffening cheek, and the old eyes 
 looked into those others that had not yet been closed. 
 
 " They're a-callin'," she said, and pressed the lids ten- 
 derly down. 
 
 Death had not been harsh. As China Partins set 
 about the performance of the last services that would be 
 needed at her hands, she saw no sign of struggle. Life 
 had made but a mild flicker of opposition, a feeble 
 enough protest against defeat. That one afternoon's 
 consciousness of the things about it whether it were 
 full appreciation or a limited feeling after understanding 
 had been the last effort of the soul to find at once 
 light and expression. The rest was the mere animal 
 struggle for life, and that was not vigorous. 
 
 The sun sent a broad, jovial beam full in the face of 
 China Partins. She turned, and looked out. 
 
 "Shinin' on the evil and on the guede," she said 
 aloud. " Lor ! thar hain't no guede left. Hit's plumb 
 evil, the hull on hit." 
 
 She turned away, and finished her work. Then she 
 swept up the cabin, and with a recklessness never wit- 
 
VISITING THE SIN 419 
 
 nessed before went to the wood-pile and took therefrom 
 an armful of wood, not weeds. Skilfully she piled it 
 on the embers, heaping ashes about it so that its con- 
 sumption might be slow. 
 
 "She'll be a-comin' to-day. Thar hain't no keepin* 
 he-er away," she said. "And she'll find life in kit. 
 Thar '11 be no cold hearth in China Partins's house." 
 
 It was when the fire was banked to her satisfaction 
 that she saw a shadow between herself and the sunlight. 
 She saw nothing else, for Lem Sutton's ear had not yet 
 lost the marks of the penetrating nails that had tried 
 their strength with its tough skin, and the boy was pro- 
 portionately watchful. The circumstances called for 
 caution ; but there were mysteries up here on the moun- 
 tain, and mysteries that concerned Dal. Consequently 
 it was Lem's business to investigate. 
 
 " He hain't no hand at findin' aout for himself," said 
 the boy, as he followed in the track of Dai's horse to the 
 Gap, a full hour after the horse itself had gone on to 
 Hickory Creek. " Lor ! hit takes a right smart o' sense 
 to see all that's goin' on. Thar might piles o' things 
 happen right under hi-is eyes and he'd never see 'em. 
 I got to lueke aout powerful smart. She hain't a-thinkin' 
 of his interests. She's a-runnin' her own concerns and 
 a-duin' for the other feller. Shucks ! Will Hollings- 
 worth hain't a patch on Dal. She's a fool ! " 
 
 Lem scrambled up a rock that was not manifestly in 
 his way, and stood on its summit with a sense of mas- 
 ter over nature and scorn of the girl who had mistaken 
 the path of life represented by the pursuit and service 
 of Dalbert Mozingo for the inferior by-way of any other 
 occupation. Then he went on into the hollow at the 
 back of the mountains and dodged the sharp eyes of 
 China Partins. 
 
 " Thar hain't no guede hidin' plumb in the heart o' 
 that blackberry thicket. Thar might some people's 
 
420 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 eyes be deceived that away, but they hain't the eyes o' 
 China Partins." 
 
 The old woman stood in the doorway. She had not 
 seen Lem disappear behind that luxuriant clump of 
 vines. It was not apparent how she managed to see 
 him now, for the growth of tangled green that was 
 massed between him and the speaker should have been 
 dense enough to hide a more substantial figure. 
 
 There was no answer to the words, unless a scarcely 
 perceptible quiver of the vines were an answer. Lem 
 was performing a backward movement. 
 
 China Partins stood motionless for a considerable pro- 
 portion of a minute. Then across her face there shot 
 a peculiar light. She took a couple of steps forward. 
 
 " You can come right aout o' thar, and du what you 
 was aimin' at duinV 
 
 The ring in the sharp voice had in it no suggestion of 
 defeat. It came across the space to Lem Sutton, and 
 the passion in it increased for a moment the pace of his 
 heart beats. Its next words stopped his hasty flight. 
 
 " You hain't hangin' raound this away for note. Lor ! 
 du you think I don't know ? You done come to see. 
 We-el, I hain't aimin' to stop ye. You can come and 
 lueke. I hain't aimin' to hinder ye nor to touch ye." 
 
 Was it recklessness, or something in the tone of the 
 voice that made the boy act upon the last statement as 
 if he believed it ? He tore himself free of the bushes, 
 with hair very much the worse for his close acquaintance 
 with the same, and stood in full sight of the eyes that 
 looked him, not over, but through. 
 
 " You come to see ! Boy, you done come at the right 
 time. Lor ! thar hain't been a day for fifteen year when 
 thar warn't danger for ary fool that come pokin' raound, 
 spy in' on China Part ins' s concerns. Thar hain't been a 
 day till this'n. Lor ! that thar sun ought to shine blood 
 to-day. Hit's a fool sun." 
 
VISITING THE SIN 421 
 
 She shot a fierce glance at the shining orb, and stood 
 between the boy and the house, tall, unyielding, aggres- 
 sive, an effectual damper on any enthusiasm of curiosity 
 that might possess the lad by reason of her words of 
 invitation. 
 
 "You needn't to be scart," she said, moving back 
 towards the end of the house, and leaving a free course 
 to the open window. "I shain't touch ye." 
 
 "Shucks ! I hain't scart," responded the boy, disdain- 
 ing to glance in the direction of the danger as he walked 
 up to the window. 
 
 "Thar, go right up and peek in," commanded the old 
 woman. " Take a right smart lueke, so's you can tell 
 what you seed. You done come to lueke. Lor ! you 
 didn't come for note." 
 
 She was watching the boy's face. She saw the shadow 
 of awe pass over it, to be hastily effaced by an effort 
 of will, and replaced by an expressionless stare. 
 
 "Lor! yes, he's dead," she said, in response to that 
 first look. "Plumb dead! I done fit Death inch by 
 inch. Boy, thar don't lueke no more the matter with 
 him naow than thar did yesterday was a week. But 
 me and Death's done wrastled over him, and Death 
 screeched, < Victory ! ' Lor ! hit hain't so sure." 
 
 There was silence for a long minute. Lem's eyes 
 gazed upon the stiffened face. 
 
 " I said I wouldn't live without him ! And he's done 
 gone clar away in spite of me. Lor ! " 
 
 Lem was too fully occupied with the inside of the 
 cabin to note the sudden lurid flash of the old eyes. 
 
 " Thar, you've done seed for yourself. Now go and 
 tell her" said the old woman, in a low, commanding tone. 
 "Tell her he's all ready for his buryin'. And tell her 
 China Partins don't lie." 
 
 " My lor ! what '11 she say ? He was her dad ! " ejacu- 
 lated the boy. 
 
422 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "You go!" 
 
 The tall figure advanced towards the window. Lem 
 effected a hasty retrograde movement. 
 
 "I'm goin','' he said, with a glance into those burn- 
 ing, undecipherable eyes. 
 
 " Mercy ! they 'most scorched a hole through me," he 
 exclaimed as he darted off out of their range. " Dead ! 
 Lor! hit's a sight." 
 
 His heels showed in brisk movement as he kicked 
 them up behind him, and then took an equally useful 
 but less prominent position while he stood on the rock 
 above the cabin, and turned to look back to where a tall 
 figure held itself in the doorway. Did he feel the 
 scorching of those eyes still, or was it the outstretching 
 of the finger suddenly thrust forth and pointed towards 
 the valley that made him scamper on till he was fairly 
 out of sight ? 
 
 "Lor! what '11 she say and Dal?" exclaimed the 
 boy. " I thought he'd 'a stopped in thar as he went to 
 Hickory Creek. Like as not he started off to see hef 
 instead. Thar hain't no bein' plumb sure he didn't, if 
 he did say he warn't goin' to. He hain't a powerful 
 guede hand at keepin' up a quarrel. If it was he-er" 
 
 He broke off and turned in among the rocks. Given 
 an easy and commonplace way to attain an object, and 
 a perilous and out-of-the-ordinary method, there would 
 never be a shade of hesitation about Lem's choice. On 
 the present occasion he did not go down through the 
 open valley to the road in the Gap. If he had done so, 
 he might have met Naomi. 
 
 The hollow in the hills where the cottage stood 
 looked as it had looked every summer day for fifteen 
 years. But upon the face of China Partins was an ex- 
 pression that no previous day of the fifteen summers 
 had witnessed. 
 
 "I've knowed thar was evil comin' ever since she sot 
 
VISITING THE SIN 423 
 
 foot in the valley. Hit's been squallin' in the winds, 
 and moanin' in the trees. Hit's done co-ome ! " 
 
 She stood within the cabin, facing the light without. 
 That bit of tangled hollow, with its bushes and weeds, 
 and its clinging mass of blackberry vines immediately 
 beyond, had met her eye year after year since she 
 brought Dalbert Mozingo into the cabin and closed the 
 door upon the world. " His face inside, and that wild 
 tangle of rock and greenery without, had been the 
 limits of her interest. Now the foundation of life was 
 shaken. The perishable green plants and the immov- 
 able rock remained, both alike stable enough to mock 
 at the change within. 
 
 " China Partins don't lie ! She hain't spoke for note ! " 
 
 Had something more than the thread of one life been 
 snapped in the last hours ? Those old eyes had many 
 a time burned with anger, or leaped into fiercer flame 
 with sudden passion, yet they had never held such fire 
 as scorched within them now. The light in their depths 
 was lurid. 
 
 " I done been robbed of him at last ! " 
 
 The low, hoarse words had a moan in them, like the 
 sea when it whispers of death. 
 
 She went up to the bed, and touched the calm face. 
 It was cold beneath her fingers. 
 
4 2 4 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE fire on the hearth had burst through its 
 barriers and leaped into liberty, giving utterance 
 to an aggressive snap and crackle almost in the 
 face of the girl who stood but a foot or two from it. 
 The position was peculiarly ill-chosen for a hot summer 
 day. The breath of the fire was oppressive. The girl 
 felt suffocated. Yet she did not step back, nor turn 
 her face from its glare. 
 
 It was a face white and rigid, a match for that upon 
 the bed, or for the other which was pillowed less softly 
 on the cabin floor. The owner of the face was trembling. 
 For the time Joeing she had lost the strength of nerve, 
 the power of self-domination that was the instinct of her 
 life. She stood looking down at the flame, scarcely 
 conscious that its heat oppressed her. The life of the 
 fire answered to the beating life of her own heart, each 
 in its way a protest against the domination of horror 
 and death. 
 
 Facing the fire, she had her back to the room and 
 that which it contained. When the details of that 
 scene were taken into consideration, it was no wonder 
 the hand she lifted to her forehead was unsteady, and 
 the thoughts that rushed through her brain appalling. 
 
 "It's plumb sure he passed through the Gap this 
 morning." 
 
 Her lips shook. There was enough to unnerve her, 
 even without the thoughts that would not be dissociated 
 from the surroundings into which she had stepped with- 
 out a shadow of warning. The long, ghastly form lying 
 limp and still on the boards within an arm's length of 
 
VISITING THE SIN 425 
 
 her father's bed was not reassuring. In death, as in 
 life, the face of China Partins was fierce. 
 
 "He'd be nearly certain to come here. And he 
 didn't know." 
 
 She was still staring into the fire, with a suspicious 
 intentness suggestive of fear that her eyes might wander 
 to the spot where the owner of the lonely cabin in the 
 hollow lay shot through the heart, dead by the side of 
 her charge. To pass from the sunlit peace of the hollow 
 without into the mystery-haunted gloom of a cabin 
 given over to death, was an experience fruitful in the 
 .awakening of fears that set the girl's heart beating 
 irregularly and her brain combating at the same moment 
 that it drew into line certain propositions of the nature 
 of convictions. 
 
 " Big Creek has never quarrelled with her in all these 
 years. She has lived here unmolested in spite of her 
 lack of sociability. Who should interfere with her 
 to-day ? " 
 
 The train of thought went on, shaped by the unex- 
 plained, but, to Naomi, not unexplainable tragedy the 
 log cabin had witnessed that morning. 
 
 " And it is certain that he was near that he turned 
 into the valley from the Gap not many hours ago." 
 
 The one fact about which the whole argument turned 
 was uppermost still. Her hand tried to steady itself as 
 it unclosed and brought within range of her eyes a scrap 
 of paper, found on her way to the cottage. It was part 
 of an envelope, and bore the date of that very day, 
 while upon the other side of it was her brother's name, 
 proof beyond contradiction that he had that morning 
 left the road through the Gap and turned into the little 
 valley leading to the cottage. 
 
 What of it ? Nothing, until she pushed open the 
 cabin door, and stood speechless, too much horrified at 
 the moment for consecutive thought. The thought 
 came later. It grew out of the scene. 
 
426 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Dalbert had been there since the sun rose. Even 
 in the first moment of bewilderment that one idea 
 ranged itself by the side of the newly discovered hor- 
 ror. Dalbert had been there, and China Partins had 
 been shot. Afterwards the two facts assumed a more 
 definite relation. 
 
 Dalbert had come there to see his father, to demand 
 of this woman an account of her actions with regard to 
 him. He had come all unprepared for that which he 
 found, his father dead, and the body guarded, dragon 
 like, by an old woman who on the only other occasion 
 on which he had set foot in her cabin had fiercely 
 ordered him out of its door. He had never heard the 
 secret of China Partins's life. He knew her only as a 
 witch, whom suspicion charged with divers deeds awe- 
 some and weird. He knew nothing of her devotion to 
 her charge, nothing but that such women were danger- 
 ous, and that death had overtaken his father suddenly 
 in her house. 
 
 "He was so completely in the dark that he was ready 
 for any misconception," argued the girl. "With noth- 
 ing but misleading facts to guide him it was no wonder 
 he blundered on the wrong explanation. He could 
 hardly help it." 
 
 She put up her hand to push back a refractory ring 
 of hair. It lay damp and clinging on her forehead. 
 
 " Her words and her manner would be enough to con- 
 firm his worst imaginings. After his death she would 
 be as wild as a savage animal robbed of its young. It 
 was only my father's presence that made it safe for any- 
 body to come near her. And she was not looking for 
 his death. It must have been as great a shock to her 
 as to anybody." 
 
 One half of the story of that death dominated cabin 
 Naomi had read at a glance. Sudden as was the shock 
 that came when her eye fell upon her father's face, it 
 
VISITING THE SIN 427 
 
 brought with it no impulse to seek for life there. She 
 recognised the presence of life's rival. And even in 
 those early moments the calm peace of that sleep of 
 death affected her less painfully than the unseeing gaze 
 of his eyes had done when she was last at the cottage. 
 The knowledge brought a sharp shock, a sudden con- 
 traction of the heart, but none of the horror that per- 
 tained to that other form, lifeless as his, to which, 
 however, she sprang with a fierce longing to find some 
 pulsation of life yet left, some flutter of breath still in the 
 nostrils. 
 
 The longing came before the connected thought, 
 before a certain train of reasoning set the girl's lips 
 shaking and her hands trembling. The half acknowl- 
 edged hope had faded quickly, and the fears that had 
 sprung into being at that first glance had grown 
 stronger and more definite as the minutes passed. She 
 had turned away to the fire now, assured that in it was 
 the only life that pertained to the cabin. 
 
 It was because she was looking so fixedly into the fire 
 that she did not see the face of a man a few inches back 
 from the window opening. The firelight was in her 
 eyes, so that the shadow of Will Hollingsworth was not 
 perceived. 
 
 Even his face blanched for a moment at the sight his 
 eyes beheld. That young, lithe figure standing in the 
 midst of death sent a shudder through him. Neverthe- 
 less he drew nearer. 
 
 " Her father, by all the witches in witchdom ! The 
 feller that old Ken Poteet was accused of putting 
 underground ! " 
 
 The words were not spoken aloud, and they came 
 after a long, close scrutiny of the face upon the pillow. 
 Even now, when the eyes that had been the most strik- 
 ing point of resemblance were closed, the likeness of 
 that face to Naomi's was too plainly marked to leave 
 
428 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 room for doubt of the relationship. Some things that 
 had been enigmatical to Will became suddenly clear. 
 
 It was not a time for a girl to be left alone. There 
 was enough of horror inside that cabin to make a stout 
 heart quail. The figure of China Partins lay ghastly 
 and terrible upon the floor. A pool of blood, not yet 
 congealed, soaked slowly into her clothing, and her 
 fingers the long, claw-tipped fingers were dabbled 
 in its redness. Yet Will Hollingsworth made no move- 
 ment to reassure the girl by announcing his presence. 
 He was studying the situation, possibly studying also 
 the necessary inference that would follow his manifesta- 
 tion of himself in this place. 
 
 Will had followed Naomi through the Gap, always 
 at a safe distance. It had been because the distance 
 was safe that he had lost sight of her when she turned 
 out of the road, and had consequently come late upon 
 the scene. Notwithstanding the lateness, however, to 
 Naomi's quick mind his appearance before the window 
 would hardly fail to be suggestive of dogged footsteps. 
 Yet it was not care for his own honour that kept Will's 
 tongue silent. The expression of his face was not one 
 of shame, neither did it betray concern for the girl he 
 was watching. Slowly into the eyes that had for the 
 kst minute been resting on the back of Naomi's head 
 came a look of triumph. 
 
 " Caught at last ! It began to look like defeat." 
 
 He breathed a sigh of satisfaction. It may have been 
 that sigh which caused the girl to look up ; it may have 
 been that the thread of the argument that her mind was 
 weaving into shape carried her too conclusively to a 
 point from which the mind recoiled. She turned round. 
 
 "You here?" 
 
 " Yes. Why not ? We have always been partners 
 in the avenging of the death of your father." 
 
 She moved back fully two steps, till the fire warned 
 
VISITING THE SIN 429 
 
 her in friendly crackle that there was danger in a too 
 close contact with itself. 
 
 The eyes that sought his inquiringly had lost the 
 spark of defiance that had rarely been absent from them 
 of late. He had never seen them less aggressive. 
 
 "I do not understand what you mean," she said 
 slowly. " I have found my father and lost him." 
 
 " And there was nothing left but the avenging." 
 
 She looked at him with startled questioning. 
 
 " We made a blunder about that, a foolish blunder, 
 as unjust as it was foolish," she said coldly. "I found 
 it out too late to remedy it." 
 
 " Yes I see," he answered. " But not too late to 
 make more sure next time. The second attempt has 
 not miscarried, whatever may have been the fate of the 
 first." 
 
 His glance had travelled from the girl's face to the 
 stiffening form of the old woman on the floor. If he 
 had not been looking down, he must have seen the 
 strange light that came into Naomi's eyes and then left 
 them again. She drew herself up proudly. 
 
 " You think 7 had anything to do with that ? " 
 
 She also was looking down now. 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " What else should I think ? " he asked. 
 
 There was a momentary hesitation. Then she spoke. 
 
 " True," she said. " What else should you think ? " 
 
 He did not notice the slightest possible stress on the 
 "you." 
 
 " Don't be alarmed. I am not prepared to think the 
 worst of you," he said. " I know you too well to be 
 altogether surprised at this." 
 
 He was still looking at the dead face of China 
 Part ins. 
 
 " That is encouraging, very." 
 
 He looked up then. 
 
430 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "It is to me," he said fiercely. "Naomi, we have 
 too long been partners in well, in a powerful big 
 mistake, to object to being partners now in a crime." 
 
 "Have we?" she asked in an incomprehensible tone. 
 
 " Yes," he replied emphatically. " We cannot afford 
 to offend each other. We have both too much to lose. 
 And we have pulled together long enough to be in 
 no danger of letting a little secret such as this become 
 anything but a fairly unanswerable argument in favour 
 of our joining forces for the rest of our lives." 
 
 She understood the threat in his words ; but, with 
 a return of her accustomed coolness, she ignored the 
 last half of them. 
 
 "Too much to lose?" she said reflectively. "The 
 chances at issue being what ? " 
 
 The way in which her eyes swept over to the window 
 warned him that the defiance was not all dead. The 
 two had retained their original positions, Naomi stand- 
 ing before the hearth, and Will looking in at the win- 
 dow. They had no fear of being overheard. The 
 hollow in the mountain was absolutely deserted. 
 
 "The chances at stake for me?" he asked, with 
 a savage laugh. "They are all summed up in one, 
 you. I'll swear man never had bigger. Do you want 
 to know the other side, or is it tolerable plain to you ? 
 It should be. There's nobody better able to judge of 
 it. All Big Creek has come round to Naomi Mozingo's 
 way of thinking about the kind of justice that should 
 fall on the head of a murderer. The chances at stake 
 with this suggestive bit of tragedy waiting to be re- 
 vealed don't seem hard to reckon up. It's plumb 
 awkward, sometimes, to have been too successful in 
 educating public morality." 
 
 There was no lack of aggression in her eyes now 
 nor of defiance. He would have been better satisfied if 
 he could have decided what he saw there besides the 
 defiance. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 431 
 
 "You deal in pretty words," she said. "Where, in 
 this case, do your astute eyes discover the head of the 
 murderer, which is to prove a target for a too highly 
 educated popular morality ? " 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " It isn't far to seek, is it ? " he said. " Nobody has 
 entered the old witch's cabin for an age. Unlucky for 
 her that her first visitor chanced to be a strong believer 
 in vengeance. The inference is powerful easy." 
 
 " Perhaps," she said quietly. " And who is to accuse 
 me of murder ? " 
 
 She spoke the word unflinchingly, with a little smile 
 as she approached it." 
 
 "Who? Well, nobody, unless you make a second 
 blunder bigger than the first," he said. " Who is there 
 to do it ? Nobody knows this little secret but you and 
 me. The old hag hasn't a host of friends, I'll answer 
 for it. It won't be a powerful big matter to bury her 
 here, right under her own cabin, and your father with 
 her. It's the safest plan, if not the pleasantest. No- 
 body will be asking after her for a smart sight. And 
 when they do, they'll think she has ridden off on a 
 broomstick or some other steed usually appropriated 
 by witches. Lucky for us the old woman led an un- 
 sociable life." 
 
 She made him no answer. Her eyes had dropped to 
 the floor again. He was at a loss to know what infer- 
 ence to draw from her silence. He waited to give her 
 time to weigh the situation. His faith in the circum- 
 stances that had at last played so conveniently into his 
 hands was firm enough to give him confidence. Naomi 
 was no fool. She knew when she was beaten. 
 
 "Your proposition is startling," she said at last, 
 " too startling. Your plan can be improved upon. My 
 father merits a better burial. Since you see no ob- 
 stacle to our working together, what is to hinder you 
 
432 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 from dropping aout of the business, and going back to 
 the valley as innocent of all knowledge of China Par- 
 tins' s cottage as before you came ? Big Creek will not 
 necessarily take it for granted that you followed me 
 here." 
 
 If the last words struck home, they failed to produce 
 any sign. 
 
 " But you ? " returned Will. " How will you make 
 yourself safe ? This is a tolerable dangerous fix, if ary 
 person finds it aout. It's of you I'm thinking." 
 
 " Are you ? " she said ; and there was a shade more of 
 inquiry in the tone than was pleasant. " Then you may 
 set your mind at rest. I can take care of myself. It is 
 possibly an easier matter than you imagine. In twenty- 
 four hours' time I shall call in all the spies of the vil- 
 lage to take your place at that window and look in upon 
 this scene. But it's plumb necessary to get time for 
 my plans to mature. I have a story to tell Big Creek 
 that will set it searching all creation before it charges 
 Naomi Mozingo with the death of the woman who 
 sheltered her father." 
 
 He looked at her doubtfully. She was strangely 
 reckless, far less influenced by fear than he had an- 
 ticipated. But fear and Naomi Mozingo had never 
 been close acquaintances. 
 
 "As you will," he said. "It looks powerful danger- 
 ous to me, but I'm ready to risk it. There's only 
 one thing I won't risk, and that's losing you." 
 
 "You had better go back to the village," she said. 
 " I shall stay here till you are gone. We don't want to 
 be seen together. Go and look after the mill." 
 
 When he had gone, she turned and stared into the 
 fire again. 
 
 " A plumb slap in the face by fate ! " 
 
 Her laugh, mirthless and low, broke the long still- 
 ness. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 433 
 
 " Kin to a murderer and personally accused of the 
 crime ! Looks tolerably suggestive of certain accusa- 
 tions coming home like chickens to roost." 
 
 She laughed scornfully again, and let the thought 
 take root. She had never been slow to tell herself un- 
 pleasant truths. 
 
 Presently she went over, and drew the shutter to and 
 fastened it. Then she stepped out into the hot air. 
 She did not lock the door. With the exception of the 
 closed shutter, she had left everything as she found it. 
 
 Anger at the trap in which Will Hollingsworth had 
 caught her for the moment overpowered the gnawing 
 pain at her heart. But for the conviction that the root 
 of that pain was set in a certainty, she would have 
 thrown his accusations back in his face. She was not 
 at liberty to follow her inclination. 
 
 She had little doubt that, in a fit of what seemed to 
 him righteous indignation, her brother had shot the old 
 woman. He had undoubtedly been provoked. It was 
 even possible that the deed had been done in self-de- 
 fence. But the fact remained. The son of Dalbert 
 Mozingo, the elder, had violently taken the life of the 
 woman who for fifteen years had sheltered and cher- 
 ished his father. It would be hard to prove that there 
 was excuse for the deed. 
 
 The crime of murder lay against the name of Mo- 
 zingo, and she was going to warn the murderer. For 
 more than twelve months she had elaborated arguments 
 in support of certain theories respecting the righteous 
 punishment of the man who could take the life of an- 
 other. To-day she was hurrying, with trembling limbs, 
 to advise one such to keep out of the way while she 
 distorted facts and skilfully covered a crime. So much 
 for her theories. 
 
 That Dal would be wise enough not to return to the 
 scene of danger was, in her estimation, too much to ex- 
 
434 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 pect. It would be just like him, when the heat of pas- 
 sion was over, to come back and give himself up. It 
 was this she was making it her business to prevent. 
 
 She did not know where to seek her brother. Not- 
 withstanding the fact that he had been in the village 
 the day before, she was in ignorance of his arrange- 
 ments. She had waited for him to come to her, and he 
 had failed her. She did not know in what part of 
 Hickory Creek to look for him. On the whole, she 
 preferred meeting him on the road beyond the Gap. 
 Her plan was to lay in wait for him as he came back 
 that night. She had a somewhat firm conviction that 
 he would come back. 
 
 For the present she did not fear discovery. Nobody 
 went into that hollow of the hills for months at a time ; 
 and if any did chance to wander thither on this par- 
 ticular day, he would leave the log cabin alone. The 
 unsociable habits of China Partins were well understood. 
 
 Naomi could afford to put off all action till Dalbert 
 came, let him be ever so late. To-morrow, when he was 
 safely out of Big Creek, she would go up through the 
 Gap and rediscover the tragedy of the old witch's death. 
 When she had told the story of China Partins's devo- 
 tion to the father of Dalbert and Naomi Mozingo, there 
 would be few who would think to accuse the son of the 
 dead man of the murder that had been committed. 
 
 The plan was not a hard one to carry out, but Dal- 
 bert must first be got out of the way. He was a most 
 successful blunderer where deception was concerned. 
 
 The scheme had been perfect until Will Hollings- 
 worth appeared on the scene. Now there were compli- 
 cations. Nevertheless Naomi was on her way to carry 
 out her original intention. Dalbert must be warned. 
 The danger to him was imminent in view of his own 
 character. Afterwards there would be other matters to 
 consider. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 435 
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 WHEN Naomi Mozingo left the hollow in the 
 mountain, her intention was to go on towards 
 Hickory Creek. In reality she turned in the 
 opposite direction. She had seen Will Hollingsworth 
 in the distance. 
 
 " He'll hang round till he spoils everything," she said 
 angrily. " Does he think I'm going to run away ? " 
 
 Perhaps he did, or something like it. He distrusted 
 the look in her eyes. Because it was incomprehensible, 
 he feared it. 
 
 "What is to prevent her meeting Dal and getting 
 clear of the place before anybody's the wiser ? " he said. 
 " Dai's horse would carry double. It would be just like 
 her to fool me yet." 
 
 His feet moved hurriedly, however, when she turned 
 towards Big Creek. He was not anxious that she 
 should overtake him. He was considerably nonplussed 
 when he saw her enter the house that before her re- 
 moval to the mill had been that of her nearest neigh- 
 bour. He had not thought her in a mood for company. 
 
 He would perhaps have been a little more surprised 
 if he had heard her announce to her hostess that her 
 brother was going away immediately to start another 
 mill, and "she was aimin' to keep house for him." 
 
 " Lor ! what does Will Hollingsworth say ? " de- 
 manded the woman. 
 
 Naomi shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " There is all outside to come to an understanding 
 with him in," she said. " Ary one house is too small." 
 
 " Mercy ! " rejoined the woman. " I should say hit 
 would be. I see him pass here twice this mornin'." 
 
436 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 "He'll rest better when I'm gone and so shall I," 
 laughed Naomi. " Will you give me some dinner ? " 
 
 Where in all the village wouldn't the girl have been 
 welcome to dinner with such a suggestive bit of news 
 to impart ? For weeks now Big Creek had been agog ; 
 and since the death of Abner Poteet talk had grown 
 lively. Every fresh piece of news was added with in- 
 terest to the general fund, and the discoverer of the 
 same became for the time being a person of importance. 
 
 Naomi stayed until the afternoon was fairly passed, 
 maliciously conscious that for the present she had out- 
 witted Will Hollingsworth. He had been forced to 
 follow her advice, and go back to the mill. He could 
 not well stay watching the house for hours. 
 
 " Lor ! she's a cool one," said the neighbour, as Naomi 
 stepped out into the slanting sunlight. "Thar don't 
 nothin' upset her. She didn't feel mighty easy abaout 
 the death of Ab Poteet, though. Lor ! hit hain't likely 
 she would. She was a plumb sight too hard on Ab, 
 and I doclar she knows hit." 
 
 The good woman had not neglected to discuss recent 
 topics of interest with her visitor. Why should she lose 
 so favourable an opportunity ? Events were happening 
 thick and fast at Big Creek now, and opinion was 
 changing at an unprecedented rate. Authoritative in- 
 formation was worth something. 
 
 " She'll tell it all over Big Creek in less than an 
 hour," said Naomi. " It will prepare the way for future 
 revelations." 
 
 She smiled mirthlessly as she imagined the effect of 
 the rumour on Will Hollingsworth, when it should come 
 to his ears, as it would hardly fail to do before long. 
 Will was just now the unmanageable element in the 
 difficulty. 
 
 He seemed a very persistent element ; for when the 
 girl had got well into the Gap, and with an apparently 
 
VISITING THE SIN 437 
 
 careless movement had turned her head to look at the 
 cloudless sky, she saw, as she swept her eyes down 
 again, that which made her change her original plan. 
 Instead of continuing her walk through the Gap, she 
 disappeared suddenly from the roadway, seeking the 
 shelter afforded by a sharp dip in the bank of the stream 
 and a friendly tangle of bushes. 
 
 Big Creek lay low in its banks to-day. There was a 
 point where flat rocks in its bed were uncovered, and it 
 was possible to walk across the stream with only a step 
 or two where the water came above the ankles. There 
 .was a strong feeling of irritation in Naomi's heart as 
 she set her feet on the slippery rock bed, and trusted 
 herself to the shallow water. 
 
 " Hunting for murderers seems to be a powerful pop- 
 ular amusement in Big Creek," she muttered. " That's 
 what comes of setting the fashion." 
 
 In all the defeats of the last weeks the girl had never 
 been quite as sore at heart as she was to-day. Will 
 Hollingsworth's accusation had come as a climax. Na- 
 omi was proud, and fate was hitting her hard. 
 
 To Will Hollingsworth's opinion, as such, she was 
 indifferent. It was that which Will did not know, that 
 which his accusation must for the present be made to 
 cover, that gave the real sting to the imputation. It 
 would not be difficult for Naomi Mozingo to prove to 
 the satisfaction of Big Creek that she was not the mur- 
 derer of China Partins. If it had been half as easy to 
 prove, to her own satisfaction, that she was not that de- 
 spised, reprehensible person, the nearest of kin to a 
 murderer, her heart would not have beat with such 
 angry soreness to-day. 
 
 " You make no distinction ? " Why should the words 
 come up as clearly now as when she heard the voice of 
 Marshall Rutherford utter them ? 
 
 She bowed her head to her own verdict. She was 
 
438 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 not the murderer of the old woman who lay dead in her 
 long-defended stronghold, but, on her own showing, she 
 was a sharer in the consequences of the crime. She 
 could not get clear of her kinship with the man whose 
 hand had been responsible for the ruin. Nay, she did 
 not want to be clear of that kinship. She had said that 
 she made no distinction. At this moment she forcibly 
 realised that there are distinctions, even in crime. 
 
 The horror of the deed itself had entered her soul. 
 That its victim was China Partins, a woman who had 
 merited nothing but good at the hands of Dalbert Mo- 
 zingo's children, seemed to her a cruel aggravation of 
 the case. Her gratitude to the old woman had been 
 strong. The terrible irony of the fate that had repaid 
 the saver of a life with a violent death presented itself 
 to her forcibly. She was mourning less for her father 
 than for the woman who had lost him and her life in 
 one day. 
 
 She had reached the opposite side of the stream. Big 
 Creek lay between her and the road, and great ramparts 
 of rock rose sheer before her. A huge, sloping wall of 
 nature's masonry, of such a form that it was hard to 
 believe it had not been part of a giant castle that had 
 once held sway over this wild defile, invited her to its 
 shelter. Even Will Hollingsworth's eyes might search 
 for her long, when once she had gained a hiding-place in 
 its cover. 
 
 That he had followed her into the pass was unfortu- 
 nate. She must see Dalbert alone. His safety de- 
 pended on it. If the worst came to the worst, it would 
 have to come to a trial of strength between her and 
 Will. The time when she could dictate terms had not 
 entirely passed. 
 
 She had some hope of tiring him out, however. So 
 long as he saw her ahead of him, he would follow. 
 When he lost sight of her, there was a possibility that 
 
VISITING THE SIN 439 
 
 he would grow weary of the chase. To search through 
 a chaos of rock such as lay about her on every side 
 would require the patience of a more persevering hunter 
 than Will Hollingsworth. To tire him out, or elude 
 him upon the mountain side and pass beyond him when 
 the shadows of evening began to gather, was not an im- 
 possible outcome of the situation. In a minute Naomi 
 was scrambling up between fallen boulders, seeking the 
 most convenient hiding-place. With a sharp pang she 
 remembered that it was among these very rocks her 
 father had crouched, while the soldiers above hunted for 
 his life. 
 
 She had a good view of the road round the corner of 
 the rock she chose as shelter, and the silence of the 
 pass was conducive to the hearing of distant sounds. 
 She could hardly be surprised from either hand ; and if 
 Dalbert should come sooner than she expected, there 
 would yet be time for her to cross the stream. Of Will 
 she saw nothing. He might be waiting further down 
 the Gap, or he might have returned to Big Creek. 
 From the fact that he had not passed along the open 
 stretch of road visible from her hiding-place, which 
 stretch included the greater part of the pass, she con- 
 cluded that he had given up the pursuit. Neverthe- 
 less she decided to retain her present position till the 
 shadows of evening could be turned into allies. 
 
 It was very lonely here in the Gap as the sun sank 
 lower. Nature has a trick of striking minor chords 
 upon the heart that is oppressed with dread or heavy 
 with sorrow. The grandeur and strength of the moun- 
 tain wall above and before her spoke to Naomi less of 
 safety than of insurmountability. The littleness of 
 human personality in the midst of this all-embracing 
 world of rock and trees and water oppressed her. The 
 departing day had in it a pathos that brought tears to 
 her eyes. She had never seen the sunset so before. 
 
440 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Supper had long been over in the village, and Big 
 Creek was outside its doors, seeking for coolness. It 
 was coming with the death of day and the damp inrush 
 of night. And at the same time there was coming upon 
 the breeze that in little puffs swept through the Gap 
 the sound of a horse's feet. Naomi rose, and hastily de- 
 scended the steep slope of the mountain. Dalbert was 
 coming sooner than she expected. 
 
 Undoubtedly her breath came irregularly as she 
 dipped her feet in the stream. It might not be Dalbert ; 
 but she thought she knew Charley's step, even in the 
 distance. So did another listener not many yards away 
 on the other side of Big Creek. 
 
 " Dalbert ! " 
 
 Naomi had gone hastily forward to meet her brother. 
 For several minutes the hoof-beats had been coming 
 nearer. 
 
 "You here?" 
 
 He drew rein sharply. His face betrayed no pleas- 
 ure at the meeting. Since the death of Abner Poteet, 
 Dalbert had found it hard to forgive his sister. Re- 
 cent discoveries had put that death in an unpleasant 
 light. The present sudden encounter with Naomi 
 brought no brotherly smile to his lips. She put her 
 own construction upon the absence of welcome. 
 
 "I have been to the house of China Partins," she 
 said hurriedly. u Why didn't you come to see me ? 
 Then all this would have been avoided, and she might 
 have been alive now instead " 
 
 " Instead of lying stiff and stark, keeping horrid guard 
 over the cabin that was never more effectually barred 
 against intruders in the old hag's lifetime than it is 
 now by the grim stare of her dead eyes," interrupted a 
 strong voice immediately behind Naomi. "Dal," con- 
 tinued Will Hollings worth, coming out from the cover 
 of the thicket upon the mountain side, "this sister of 
 
VISITING THE SIN 441 
 
 yours has had her will at last. Her ringers have been 
 itching for the chance to put a bullet through the heart 
 of her father's murderer. You may congratulate her 
 to-day. They'll never itch that away again." 
 
 He looked at the girl with a malicious laugh on his 
 lips. She was watching Dalbert, and did not see the 
 look. Her first thought was to prevent her brother 
 from criminating himself. 
 
 " What do you mean ? What have you been up to ? " 
 
 Dalbert spoke sternly. 
 
 " Don't count me in," replied Will lightly. " I came 
 on the scene after the last act was over." 
 
 " Better go off it again, if you value the success of 
 your plans," said a girl's voice in low, meaning tones. 
 " The mill is a safer place for the furtherance of your 
 wishes than the Gap at the present moment." 
 
 Even while she spoke, Naomi was looking at Dalbert 
 warningly. He misunderstood the look. 
 
 " I don't know what you came here for," he said, 
 addressing his words to Will. " There's little enough 
 but rascality you ever have a hand in. Stand aside ! 
 I'm going on to Big Creek to see what new abomination 
 you have been concocting." 
 
 " No, you are not ! Dalbert, don't be a fool ! " 
 
 Naomi's hand was on Charley's nose. The touch 
 was as effectual a barrier to progress as a stone wall 
 would have been. 
 
 "Let it pass, Dalbert," she said, reaching up as if to 
 speak caressing words to the horse. "Behave as if 
 you believed it. I can get you out of this difficulty, 
 and there is nothing to be gained by facing it. Don't 
 you understand ? " she added. "He does not know. 
 Nobody knows. He thinks I did it. There is no sus- 
 picion that you were at her house this morning." 
 
 The low, clearly spoken sentences travelled no 
 further than to her brother's ears, They had the op- 
 posite of the desired effect, 
 
442 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 " I don't know what you are talking about," he said 
 impatiently. " What are you trying to tell me ? Say 
 it openly. If you are afraid of this feller, I'm not. 
 Whose house was I supposed to be in this morning ? " 
 
 " You ? " 
 
 Will stood looking in puzzled wonder from one to 
 the other. Then he gave utterance to a shrill whistle. 
 
 " Mercy sakes ! the plot thickens," he said. " Things 
 are growing interesting." 
 
 " Dangerously so," replied Naomi quietly. " More 
 than one plan is in plumb danger at the present mo- 
 ment." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " I'm not afraid," he said. " You can't afford to play 
 me false. I'm here to look after you. I have the 
 right now. Besides, I'm getting an insight into a power- 
 ful interesting subject." 
 
 " What does he mean ? Speak out. I don't under- 
 stand either your words or your signs. I'm not afraid 
 of him. If you are, so much the worse for you." 
 
 It was Dalbert's answer to a last attempt to warn 
 him. Naomi gave it up in despair. 
 
 " Don't be too sure of your ground, my fine feller," 
 retorted Will, a savage intonation appearing in his voice. 
 " Murder is an ugly thing at close quarters." 
 
 " Murder ! What murder ? You've been harping at 
 that before. Do you want to accuse me of it ? " 
 
 If Dalbert had desired to apprise the whole country- 
 side of the accusation, he could hardly have spoken in 
 less guarded tones. 
 
 " No. He restricts his charges to me." 
 
 Naomi's eyes were lifted to her brother's face. She 
 had grown pale, even to the lips. 
 
 " Does he lie ? " 
 
 She looked into his eyes, and her own spoke elo- 
 quently. He could not read their message. 
 
VISITING THE SIN 443 
 
 " Does he lie ? " he repeated. 
 
 She evaded the question. She was at a loss to 
 understand his asking it. 
 
 " China Partins was shot in her own house this morn- 
 ing," she said. " Our father lay dead by her side. 
 Will found me there, and drew his own conclusions. 
 For the present you had better do the same." 
 
 " And you do not deny it ? " 
 
 The question was thundered into the evening air. 
 
 " I neither deny it nor acknowledge it," she said 
 quietly. 
 
 They stood looking at each other. Then Will burst 
 into a loud laugh. 
 
 " I declare I don't know which is the murderer, after 
 all," he said. 
 
 Naomi turned upon him with scornful eyes. 
 
 " You had better make your accusation broad enough 
 to cover all contingencies," she said. "You are bent 
 on undoing yourself." 
 
 Then softly, as Dalbert would have spoken, she 
 added for her brother's benefit : " Hush ! Let it rest 
 as it is. I can throw it off better than you can. I tell 
 you I can get aout of this if you will only listen to 
 reason." 
 
 " Better than I can ? What do you mean ? " Light 
 was at last dawning upon Dalbert's mind. " Do you 
 think, does he think, I shot the old woman ? " 
 
 She did not answer. For the moment she could not. 
 She was staring at him in blank surprise. 
 
 "It might be either of you," said Will reflectively. 
 " You both carry pistols ; and you had about equal cause 
 for a grudge against an old woman who, by arts better 
 known to herself than to the rest of the world, got your 
 esteemed relative and all he possessed into her power, 
 and then finished him up in a hurry. It was perhaps as 
 likely to be one as the other. But I confess I think 
 
444 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 one pair of hands would be more ready to turn the 
 grudge into a flying bullet than the other. I wouldn't 
 swear to it, though." 
 
 The words, or the interval during which they were 
 uttered, produced a very different effect on the two 
 listeners. Naomi's lips had lost their stiffness. The 
 smile that played upon them was enigmatical to Will. 
 
 " Dal," she began ; but her brother interrupted her. 
 
 " I see," he said slowly. " China Partins is dead. 
 One of us is supposed to be guilty of the murder. 
 Better fetch the sheriff, and let him find aout which 
 it is." 
 
 " Lor ! hain't you all fools ! " 
 
 Lem was surveying the group with eyes that twinkled 
 in the evening light. Just how he had dropped down 
 in the rear of Dai's horse nobody could have told. 
 
 " Lor me ! " he continued. " Hit don't take long to 
 git powerful mixed up when three on ye start to know 
 plumb all abaout what hain't to be knowed. Mercy ! 
 You-uns hain't no call to quarrel over what pistol done 
 hit. Hit's thar. You-all can lueke at hit. Hit's 
 yander, under the chist, whar she throwed it when she 
 done pulled the trigger. Lor! she was a one. She 
 done shot herself plumb dead and throwed the pistol 
 away with one move of her hand. She warn't alive a 
 minute atter. Mercy sakes ! she was a wi-itch, and no 
 mistake ! " 
 
 " You saw her die ? " 
 
 Dalbert was off Charley's back, his hand on the boy's 
 shoulder. Lem's eyes shone. 
 
 " See her ? I reckon," he said. " She warn't a-knowin' 
 hit, though. She done told me to lueke in at the winder 
 to see as he was dead. I see a sight more 'n she reck- 
 oned on afore I was done. Go and tell her? she says. 
 'Tell her China Partins don't lie.' I hain't knowin' 
 what she meant. I'm a-tellin' ye what she said. I 
 
VISITING THE SIN 445 
 
 hain't guede at fixin' and mixin'. Hit'd 'a tuk him to 
 know plumb sure what she was aimin' at." 
 
 An emphatic jerk of the head in Will Hollingsworth's 
 direction emphasised the words. 
 
 " She said she would never live without him ! " 
 
 The words dropped from Naomi's lips without con- 
 scious volition. She hardly knew that she spoke them 
 aloud. 
 
 " Lor ! that was hit," ejaculated Lem. I was plumb 
 sure thar was mischief abaout, though I warn't knowin' 
 what hit was. I seed hit in her eyes. 'I'm a-goin',' I 
 says ; and I went. But she didn't see me come back. 
 She thought she knowed everything. She didn't. I'd 
 got to know what was goin' on. Thar was Dai's inter- 
 ests at stake, and him away at Hickory Creek. We-all 
 had a share in that cabin, with his dad a-layin' thar. 
 Thar was nobody to look atter things but me. I'd a 
 ri-ight to see, and I seed. And a plumb guede thing I 
 did." 
 
 In spite of the weight of Dai's hand upon his 
 shoulder, Lem was a little taller than usual at that 
 moment. 
 
 " You're right, boy," said the young man, drawing a 
 long breath. " It was a plumb good thing." 
 
 " I reckon," said the boy. 
 
 Naomi had not moved since Lem appeared on the 
 scene. Her hand still fondled Charley's nose restrain- 
 ingly. She had been listening and thinking. 
 
 " It's not the first time I've been a fool," she said at 
 last. 
 
 " And you weren't the only one." 
 
 Dalbert's voice had softened. 
 
 " Lor ! no," interposed Lem, with a grin of humour, 
 " nor the wust. You-uns hain't hurt powerful much by 
 the misunderstandin'. Hit's the feller that loses that's 
 fooled." 
 
446 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 Lem's glances emphasised the words. 
 
 " Fooled ! There's only your word for all this," 
 shouted Will, for the first time since Naomi made his 
 acquaintance completely losing control of his temper. 
 
 "And whose is thar that hit hain't so?" replied the 
 boy. " You-u hain't a-goin' to run the risk o' luekin' 
 more like a fool than you're duin' naow. I can tell a 
 right smart that '11 bear luekin' into. And thar hain't 
 nobody but you a-believin' that Naomi was atter mur- 
 clerin' anybody. Mercy sakes ! Big Creek knows she 
 warn't never a fool till she tuk up with you." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Then a laugh, light 
 as air and sharp as steel, came from Naomi's lips. Her 
 eyes met those of Will Hollingsworth. As they did so, 
 a fading ray of light fell full on her head. The pass 
 was growing dim, but that ray lit up the girl's face. 
 
 "Lem is not far wrong," she said slowly. "It's 
 powerful misleading to know too much. You think 
 I had cause to hate China Part ins. To quote Lem, 
 1 You hain't knowinV Do you know what that woman 
 did for my father ? " 
 
 She turned and faced the rocks on the further side of 
 the pass, those great boulders from the shelter of which 
 she had watched the day die. 
 
 " Right there, among those stones," she said, " the 
 soldiers battered aout his life. There was only a spark 
 left, and a fiend was bending over one of those rocks to 
 take that. The knife of China Partins found his heart 
 the first time any had found it since it began to beat. 
 She saved my father from death, and out of the wreck 
 of his life for fifteen years got something to love. He 
 was helpless as a baby. She took him into her cabin 
 and shut all the world aout. Do you know what kept 
 that cottage barred for fifteen years? The fear that 
 anybody should rob her of him. She gave her life to 
 him. What for ? Money ? Every cent he had on him 
 
VISITING THE SIN 447 
 
 when he was injured has been handed over to me. She 
 grew wild at the mention of being compensated for what 
 he had cost her. Do you think I should want to kill 
 such a woman ? " 
 
 Will Hollingsworth's eyes were fastened on the girl's 
 face. The light upon it was different from any he had 
 ever seen there before. It brought no answering glow. 
 A scowl settled upon his features. 
 
 " Why did you let me think you had done it ? " he 
 asked savagely. 
 
 " I was a fool," she said. 
 
 He gave her another searching look, and turned away 
 without a word, setting his face towards Big Creek. 
 
 Lem was right. He was " fooled the wust," for he 
 had lost. 
 
 When Naomi removed her eyes from his retreating 
 figure, it was to see Dalbert by her side. Lem had dis- 
 appeared. Want of perception was not a failing of 
 Lem Sutton's. The boy was at the farm when Dal saw 
 him next. 
 
 " Will you come back with me ? It won't be for long. 
 We will start afresh." 
 
 Dalbert' s hand was on her arm. He was trying to 
 look into her eyes, but the light failed suddenly here in 
 the Gap. 
 
 "We're in the same box," he said. " You had about 
 as much faith in me as I had in you. Lem's right. 
 We're a set of fools, only it was no new thing for you 
 to peril your own safety for one particular member of 
 the set." 
 
 She breathed a long, low sigh, as if to shake off a 
 nightmare of oppression. 
 
 " We will go," she said. " We can do nothing at the 
 cabin to-night. To-morrow we will take witnesses. 
 Dalbert, she has stood between him and death from the 
 day she killed his would-be murderer. They must be 
 
448 VISITING THE SIN 
 
 buried together. She would not live without him. 
 They shall not be separated in their death. Afterwards 
 we will go away, and move the machinery from Cedar 
 Fork to a more promising place. There is money to 
 start afresh now." 
 
 Darkness dropped like a veritable presence into the 
 Gap. There was no sound but the light thud of 
 Charley's hoofs, as Dalbert and Naomi walked side by 
 side through the pass. There was much to tell, but 
 they were thinking instead of talking. 
 
 Darkness was short-lived that night. By the time 
 the brother and sister had left the village behind them, 
 the moon was announcing its ?oming. Its broad, friendly 
 disc surmounted an opposing hillside and sent the first 
 unobstructed ray down into the valley as they approached 
 the house of Kennedy Poteet. The old house showed 
 dark in the hollow, as it had done on the night when 
 Naomi and Marshall Rutherford stopped before it 
 months ago. This evening, however, the gate stood 
 open ; and the moon discovered two figures beneath the 
 apple trees. Its rays were not keen enough to reveal 
 a pair of blue eyes that looked into dark ones. 
 
 " We'll open hit agin, Norah, and give hit a new lease 
 of life. There shall be joy in the old house yet." 
 
 It was Marshall Rutherford's voice. Naomi was not 
 the only one who was planning changes for the future. 
 
THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA CRUZ 
 
 This book is due on the last DATE stamped below. 
 
 50m-6,'67(H2523s8)2373 
 
3 2106 00213 9779