aching and recognized at their head Dog Tate, mud-splashed and
astride a horse that limped stiffly with weariness.

Dog slid from his saddle, and reported briefly.

"Ther boys air a-comin' in from ther branch waters an' ther furthermost
coves. I've done started a tide of men flowin' ter-night."

"I'm beholden ter ye. I reckon we'd all better fare over ter my house
and make ready ter meet 'em thar."

Tate leaned forward and gripped Bear Cat's arm.

"I've done warned everybody thet our folks must come in quiet. I 'lowed
ye'd want ter hold counsel afore any man fired a shot--but--" He paused
and looked furtively about him, then lowered his voice. "But thar's a
thing comin' ter pass thet don't pleasure me none. Kinnard Towers air
a-ridin' over hyar ter hev speech with ye--an' ef ye jest says ther
word--thar hain't no need of his ever gittin' hyar."

"Kinnard Towers!" For an instant an astonished and renewed anger flared
in Bear Cat's pupils, and the face of the other man blackened with the
malevolence of a grudge long nursed and long festering in repression.

"Kinnard Towers," repeated Dog Tate, vindictively mouthing the name.
"He's hired more men killed then he's got teeth in his jaws. He's raked
hell itself, stirrin' tribulation fer yore people an' mine--an' I've
done took my oath. Jest es soon es things start poppin' he's my man ter
kill!"

Abruptly Tate fell to trembling. His face became a thing of ash and
flint. From his pocket he drew a small package folded in newspaper,
which he unwrapped and held out, displaying an old and very soiled
handkerchief, spotted with dark discolorations. A shrill note sharpened
his voice as he spoke in vehement haste.

"Thar hit air! Thet's my daddy's 'kerchief--an' thet spot air ther
blood thet was spilled outen his heart--by a bullet Kinnard Towers
caused ter be fired! Seems like I kin see him a-lyin' thar now, sort of
gaspin' an' tryin' ter say somethin' ter me, thet he didn't never
succeed in utterin' afore he died! I wasn't hardly more'n a baby them
days an' when I come ter manhood they'd done made a truce an' yore paw
'lowed thet hit bound me. But now!" The man's excited tones cracked
like a mule-whip. "Now ef ther truce air ended, hit's my right ter hev
ther fust chance."

Slowly, with a comprehending sympathy but a firm resolution, Stacy
shook his head.

"Ye've got ter be as heedful an' patient es ye bade ther others be.
I've got a right-sensible hankerin' atter venge