no means bad-looking. As he still showed signs of retreating at
any moment, I took my flask and tobacco from my saddle-bags, handed them
to him, pointed to the stool, and sat down myself upon the bed.

"You live near here?"

"Yes," he said a little abstractedly, as if listening for some
interruption, "at Ten Mile Crossing."

"Why, that's two miles away."

"I reckon."

"Then you don't live here--on the clearing?"

"No. I b'long to the mill at 'Ten Mile.'"

"You were on your way home?"

"No," he hesitated, looking at his pipe; "I kinder meander round here at
this time, when Johnson's away, to see if everything's goin' straight."

"I see--you're a friend of the family."

"'Deed no!" He stopped, laughed, looked confused, and added, apparently
to his pipe, "That is, a sorter friend. Not much. SHE"--he lowered his
voice as if that potential personality filled the whole cabin--"wouldn't
like it."

"Then at night, when Johnson's away, you do sentry duty round the
house?"

"Yes, 'sentry dooty,' that's it,"--he seemed impressed with the
suggestion--"that's it! Sentry dooty. You've struck it, pardner."

"And how often is Johnson away?"

"'Bout two or three times a week on an average."

"But Miss Caroline appears to be able to take care of herself. She has
no fear."

"Fear! Fear wasn't hangin' round when SHE was born!" He paused. "No,
sir. Did ye ever look into them eyes?"

I hadn't, on account of the lashes. But I didn't care to say this, and
only nodded.

"There ain't the created thing livin' or dead, that she can't stand
straight up to and look at."

I wondered if he had fancied she experienced any difficulty in standing
up before that innocently good-humored face, but I could not resist
saying:--

"Then I don't see the use of your walking four miles to look after her."

I was sorry for it the next minute, for he seemed to have awkwardly
broken his pipe, and had to bend down for a long time afterwards to
laboriously pick up the smallest fragments of it. At last he said,
cautiously:

"Ye noticed them bits o' flannin' round the chillern's throats?"

I remembered that I had, but was uncertain whether it was intended as a
preventive of cold or a child's idea of decoration. I nodded.

"That's their trouble. One night, when old Johnson had been off for
three days to Coulterville, I was prowling round here and I didn't git
to see no one, though there was a light burnin' in the shanty all night.
The next