hanked her, as he did
every time she passed something to him, she would colour faintly. Once
or twice her hand seemed to tremble, and he never looked at her but her
questioning dark eyes were full upon him, and always she kept one hand
busy pushing her thick hair back from her forehead. He had not asked her
if it was her footprints he had seen coming down the mountain for fear
that he might betray her, but apparently she had told on herself, for
Bub, after a while, burst out suddenly:

"June, thar, thought you was a raider." The little girl flushed and the
old man laughed.

"So'd you, pap," she said quietly.

"That's right," he said. "So'd anybody. I reckon you're the first man
that ever come over hyeh jus' to go a-fishin'," and he laughed again.
The stress on the last words showed that he believed no man had yet come
just for that purpose, and Hale merely laughed with him. The old fellow
gulped his food, pushed his chair back, and when Hale was through, he
wasted no more time.

"Want to see that coal?"

"Yes, I do," said Hale.

"All right, I'll be ready in a minute."

The little girl followed Hale out on the porch and stood with her back
against the railing.

"Did you catch it?" he asked. She nodded, unsmiling.

"I'm sorry. What were you doing up there?" She showed no surprise that
he knew that she had been up there, and while she answered his question,
he could see that she was thinking of something else.

"I'd heerd so much about what you furriners was a-doin' over thar."

"You must have heard about a place farther over--but it's coming over
there, too, some day." And still she looked an unspoken question.

The fish that Hale had caught was lying where he had left it on the edge
of the porch.

"That's for you, June," he said, pointing to it, and the name as he
spoke it was sweet to his ears.

"I'm much obleeged," she said, shyly. "I'd 'a' cooked hit fer ye if I'd
'a' knowed you wasn't goin' to take hit home."

"That's the reason I didn't give it to you at first--I was afraid you'd
do that. I wanted you to have it."

"Much obleeged," she said again, still unsmiling, and then she suddenly
looked up at him--the deeps of her dark eyes troubled.

"Air ye ever comin' back agin, Jack?" Hale was not accustomed to the
familiar form of address common in the mountains, independent of sex or
age--and he would have been staggered had not her face been so serious.
And then few women had ever called him by his