behind her. Her slight figure in its limp blue cotton drapery had the
scarred mountain-side for a background.

"I don't see yet as he done anything so awful mean," she protested
leniently.

"Ner do I, M'lissy," acquiesced her brother-in-law. "But after the hull
thing was signed, sealed, and delivered,"--Lysander rested from his
labors again on the strength of these highly legal expressions,--"after
it was closed up, so to speak, it came to yer maw's ears, in some way,
that there was a mistake in the drawin' of that mortgage, an' this land
was left out of it, an' would 'a' been hern anyway; and somehow that
thing has stuck in her craw all these years, and sort o' soured her."

Melissa mused on the problem, wide-eyed and grave. The mule seemed to
await her verdict with humble resignation. Lysander sat on the side of
the sled and looked across the valley seaward, to where Catalina was
outlined against the horizon in soft, cloud-like gray.

"An' it was a mistake? she meant to put it in the mortgage?" queried the
girl.

"Yes, she meant to, so far as a person can be said to mean anything when
they're a-mortgagin' their homestead; usually they're out o' their
heads. But the law don't take no 'count o' that kind o' craziness. You
can do the foolest things, M'lissy, without the court seein' a crack in
your brain; but if you happen to get mad an' put a bullet through some
good-fer-nothin' loafer, then immedjitly yer insane. That's the law,
M'lissy."

Melissa received this exposition of her country's code with wondering,
luminous eyes. It had a wild, unreasonable sound which was a sufficient
guarantee of its correctness. The doings of authorities were liable to
be misty by reason of elevation. The fault lay in her limited vision.

"I s'pose the law's right. An' the law said the canon didn't belong to
mother. I think that ought to 'a' settled it. I don't see any good in it
all,--this talkin' so loud, an' scoldin', an' callin' people names. Do
you, Sandy?"

"I hain't seen much good come of it," confessed the man reluctantly;
"but it's human to talk,--it's human, M'lissy. Some folks find it
relievin', an' it don't do any harm."

The young girl did not assent. Deep down in her placid, peace-loving
nature was the obstinate conviction that it did a great deal of harm.
She sat down in the velvety burr-clover, clasping her hands about her
knees.

"Is Flutterwheel Spring more 'n mother's share o' the canon?" she
inquired.