ld not have
told the whole truth better in words, even to Dave, and as he looked
after her his every pulse-beat was a new curse, and if at that minute he
could have had Hale's heart he would have eaten it like a savage--raw.
For a minute he hesitated with reins in hand as to whether he should
turn now and go back to the Gap to settle with Hale, and then he threw
the reins over a post. He could bide his time yet a little longer, for
a crafty purpose suddenly entered his brain. Bub met him at the door of
the cabin and his eyes opened.

"What's the matter, Dave?"

"Oh, nothin'," he said carelessly. "My hoss stumbled comin' down the
mountain an' I went clean over his head." He raised one hand to his
mouth and still Bub was suspicious.

"Looks like you been in a fight." The boy began to laugh, but Dave
ignored him and went on into the cabin. Within, he sat where he could
see through the open door.

"Whar you been, Dave?" asked old Judd from the corner. Just then he saw
June coming and, pretending to draw on his pipe, he waited until she had
sat down within ear-shot on the edge of the porch.

"Who do you reckon owns this house and two hundred acres o' land
roundabouts?"

The girl's heart waited apprehensively and she heard her father's deep
voice.

"The company owns it." Dave laughed harshly.

"Not much--John Hale." The heart out on the porch leaped with gladness
now.

"He bought it from the company. It's just as well you're goin' away,
Uncle Judd. He'd put you out."

"I reckon not. I got writin' from the company which 'lows me to stay
here two year or more--if I want to."

"I don't know. He's a slick one."

"I heerd him say," put in Bub stoutly, "that he'd see that we stayed
here jus' as long as we pleased."

"Well," said old Judd shortly, "ef we stay here by his favour, we won't
stay long."

There was silence for a while. Then Dave spoke again for the listening
ears outside--maliciously:

"I went over to the Gap to see if I couldn't git the place myself from
the company. I believe the Falins ain't goin' to bother us an' I ain't
hankerin' to go West. But I told him that you-all was goin' to leave the
mountains and goin' out thar fer good." There was another silence.

"He never said a word." Nobody had asked the question, but he was
answering the unspoken one in the heart of June, and that heart sank
like a stone.

"He's goin' away hisself-goin' ter-morrow--goin' to that same place he
went before--Eng