n' over ter thet new
school, with fotched-on teachers in Fletcher County. I aims ter ask 'em
ter take in these-hyar chil'len."

"Hain't ye goin' ter house 'em an' tend 'em no longer yore own self?"
was the somewhat stern interrogation, and the man's pale blue eyes
filled suddenly with a suspicion of tears.

"Since thar mother died three y'ars back, I've done sewed an' washed
all thar clothes my own self--an' gone out inter ther field an' wucked
for 'em," he said humbly. "I've done raised 'em es right es I knows,
but I kain't do what I ought fer 'em. When I has ter leave 'em I kain't
holp but study, s'pose ther house war ter ketch fire? They're all
sleepy-headed leetle shavers."

"Why don't ye git married again?"

The voice shook a little. "Young 'uns oughtn't ter hev but just one
mammy--an' I couldn't nuver be content with no other woman." He paused.
"Hit's forty mile ter thet school, an' mebby they're full up--but I've
done been over thar an' seed hit." The weary eyes lighted. "God knows I
nuver 'lowed thet thar _war_ sich fine places ter raise chil'len to'rds
humanity an' l'arn 'em all manner of wisdom!"

"All right, go on over thar, Matthew," said Bear Cat in a
matter-of-fact voice, but in his own pupils gleamed a soft light, "an'
when ye come back jine with me. I'm seekin' ter bring hit erbout thet
we kin hev a school like thet over hyar--whar yore children wouldn't be
so far away."

The father stood twisting his broganed toe in the mud. "I heers thet ye
don't tolerate licker, Bear Cat," he said sheepishly. "Hit hain't nuver
made me mean ner nuthin' like thet--but since my woman died I've done
tuck ter drinkin' hit--I misdoubts ef I could plumb stop."

Bear Cat Stacy smiled. "Ter-morrer drink half what ye've been usin' an'
next day cut thet down a leetle. Anyhow come an' hev speech with me."

Matthew nodded and Turner watched the little procession trail out of
sight behind the gray screen of the timber-line. "All sore-eyed, an'
all sickly," he commented under his breath. "Not one of 'em gittin' a
chanst ter grow straight! Mebby over thar, they will, though."

CHAPTER XXVI

"Take a cheer an' sit down, an' light a pipe--unless ye've got a
cigar." The invitation came from the Honorable William Renshaw, circuit
judge, seated in the same small chamber adjoining the court-room in
Marlin Town, from which Kinnard Towers had issued orders on that
afternoon of Big-meetin' time.

"Co'te don't meet till tw