carved away at another pine dagger on the stoop. As Hale
passed out the door, a querulous voice said "Howdye" from the bed in
the corner and he knew it was the step-mother from whom the little girl
expected some nether-world punishment for an offence of which he was
ignorant. He had heard of the feud that had been going on between the
red Falins and the black Tollivers for a quarter of a century, and this
was Devil Judd, who had earned his nickname when he was the leader of
his clan by his terrible strength, his marksmanship, his cunning and his
courage. Some years since the old man had retired from the leadership,
because he was tired of fighting or because he had quarrelled with his
brother Dave and his foster-brother, Bad Rufe--known as the terror of
the Tollivers--or from some unknown reason, and in consequence there had
been peace for a long time--the Falins fearing that Devil Judd would
be led into the feud again, the Tollivers wary of starting hostilities
without his aid. After the last trouble, Bad Rufe Tolliver had gone West
and old Judd had moved his family as far away as possible. Hale looked
around him: this, then, was the home of Devil Judd Tolliver; the little
creature inside was his daughter and her name was June. All around the
cabin the wooded mountains towered except where, straight before his
eyes, Lonesome Creek slipped through them to the river, and the old man
had certainly picked out the very heart of silence for his home. There
was no neighbour within two leagues, Judd said, except old Squire Billy
Beams, who ran a mill a mile down the river. No wonder the spot was
called Lonesome Cove.

"You must ha' seed Uncle Billy and ole Hon passin'," he said.

"I did." Devil Judd laughed and Hale made out that "Hon" was short for
Honey.

"Uncle Billy used to drink right smart. Ole Hon broke him. She followed
him down to the grocery one day and walked in. 'Come on, boys--let's
have a drink'; and she set 'em up an' set 'em up until Uncle Billy most
went crazy. He had hard work gittin' her home, an' Uncle Billy hain't
teched a drap since." And the old mountaineer chuckled again.

All the time Hale could hear noises from the kitchen inside. The old
step-mother was abed, he had seen no other woman about the house and he
wondered if the child could be cooking dinner. Her flushed face answered
when she opened the kitchen door and called them in. She had not only
cooked but now she served as well, and when he t