le Buck cried when he told you," Judith said, in that tender,
brooding voice of hers. "That was my fault. I'm mighty sorry. I wouldn't
'a' hurt the child's feelings for anything; but I never thought."

"I fixed it up with him some," said her lover, quickly. "I told him you
only said that because I was hurt and you was sorry for me. I thought I
was telling the truth."

"Uncle Jep feels mighty bad about this business," she began another time,
hastening to offer what consolation she could. "Nothin' would have made
him willin' to it, but the fear that when you brought the raiders up he'd
get took hisself. He ain't had nothin' to do with stillin' for more'n six
year, but of course hit's on his land, and the boys is his sons. He says
he's too old to go to the penitentiary."

Creed reached out in the gloom and got the girl's hand.

"Oh, Judith, darling!" he said eagerly. "Let me tell you right now, and
make you understand--I never had any more notion of bringing raiders into
the mountains than you have yourself. I do know that blockaded stills and
what they mean are the ruin of this country; but honey, you've got to
believe me when I say I never wanted to get any information about them or
break them up."

The girl harkened, with close attention to the man--the lover--but with
simple indifference to the gist of what he was saying. It was plain that
she would have loved and followed him had he been a revenue officer
himself.

"I'll tell Uncle Jep," she said presently. "He'll be mighty proud. He
does really set a heap of store by you, and they all know it. But I ain't
never goin' to let you talk like that to him," she added, the note of
proud possession sounding in her voice. "Ef you're goin' to live in the
mountains you'll have to learn not to have much to say about moonshine
whiskey and blockaded stills--you never do know who you might be
hittin'."

"You'll take good care of me, won't you Judith?" he said fondly, pressing
the hand he held. "And I reckon I need it--I surely do manage to get into
misunderstandings with people. But that wasn't the trouble with Blatch
Turrentine--he never thought any such thing as that I was a spy. He was
mad at me about something else--and I don't know yet what it was."

Judith laughed softly, low in her throat, so far had they come from the
uncertainty, strain, and distress of an hour before. When next the trail
narrowed and widened again, she came up on his left, the side of the
injured