bein' as she was dead set on fightin' the Colonel, she mortgaged the
ranch to raise the money for the lawsuit."

Lysander stopped again. Memories of that stormy time appeared to crowd
upon him bewilderingly. He shook his head in slow but emphatic denial of
his ability to do them dramatic justice in recital.

There was another long silence. The noonday air seemed to pulsate, as if
the mountain were sleeping in the sun and breathing regularly. The
weeds, which the weight of the sled had crushed, gave out a fragrance of
honey and tar. A pair of humming-birds darted into the stillness in a
little tempest of shrill-voiced contention, and the mule, aroused from
dejected abstraction by the intruders, shook his tassel-like tail and
yawned humanly.

Melissa got up and wandered toward the edge of the canon, and Lysander,
aroused from the plentitude of his recollections by her absence,
completed his load and drove the dun-colored mule leisurely after her.

The stones fell over the precipice, breaking into the quiet of the
depths below with a long, resounding crash that finally rippled off into
silence, and the two sat down on the side of the empty sled and rode
back to the stone-pile.

"I've always thought," said Lysander, resuming his work and his
narrative with equal deliberation, "that there was a good deal missed by
yer maw bein' took down with inflammatory rheumatiz jest about the time
o' the trial o' that lawsuit. I dunno as it would 'a' made much
difference in the end, but it would 'a' made consider'ble as it went
along, and I think she'd 'a' rested easier if she'd 'a' had her say. Of
course they come up an' took down her testimony in writin'; but it was
shorthand, an' yer maw don't speak shorthand fer common. Well, of
course, the old Colonel got away with the jury, and then yer maw found
out that he'd bought the mortgage; an' about the time it was due he come
up here, as smooth as butter, an' offered to give her this little patch
o' boulders an' let her move the house onto it, an' give her share
'nough in the canon to irrigate it, if she'd deed him the rest o' the
land, an' save him the trouble o' foreclosin'. So she done it. But I
don't think he enj'yed his visit, all the same. She wasn't sparin' o'
her remarks to 'im, an' I think some o' 'em must 'a' hurt his feelin's,
fer he hain't been here sence." Lysander chuckled with reminiscent
relish.

Melissa had walked around the sled, and stood facing him, with her hands