ible; of the will to rend or rebuild.

Henderson found himself thinking of volcanoes which are latent but not
extinct. It was a first glimpse, but if he never again saw this boy,
who stood there measuring him with cool deliberation, he would always
remember him as one remembers the few instantly convincing
personalities one has brushed in walking through life.

But when Lone Stacy had finished his perusal, the nod of his head was
an assurance of dissipated doubt. There was even a grave sort of
courtesy in his manner now, as he announced:

"Thet's good enough fer me. If Uncle Israel vouches fer ye, ye're
welcome. He says hyar 'ther bearer is trustworthy'--but he don't say
who ye air. Ye said yore name war Jerry Henderson, didn't ye?"

"That _is_ my name," assented the newcomer, once more astonished. "But
I didn't realize I'd told it yet."

With an outright scorn for subterfuge the older man replied, "I reckon
thar hain't no profit in a-beatin' ther devil round ther stump. You've
heered my voice afore--an' I've seed yore face. Ye tole me yore name
back thar--in ther la'rel, didn't ye?"

Henderson bowed. "I _did_ recognize your voice, but I didn't aim to
speak of it--unless you did."

"When I says that I trusts a man," the moonshiner spoke with an
unambiguous quietness of force, "I means what I says an' takes my
chances accordin'. Ef a man betrays my confidence--" he paused just an
instant then added pointedly--"he takes _his_ chances. What did ye 'low
yore business war, hyarabouts, Mr. Henderson?"

"I mean to explain that to you in due time, Mr. Stacy, but just now it
takes fewer words to say what's _not_ my business."

"Wall then, what _hain't_ yore business?"

"Other people's business."

"Wa'al so far as hit goes thet's straight talk. I favors outright
speech myself an' ye don't seem none mealy-mouthed. Ye talks right fer
yoreself--like a mountain man."

"You see," said Henderson calmly, "I _am_ a mountain man even if I've
dwelt down below for some years."

"You--a mountain man?" echoed the bearded giant in bewilderment and the
visitor nodded.

"Ever hear of Torment Henderson?" he inquired.

"Colonel Torment Henderson! Why, hell's fiddle, man, my daddy sarved
under him in ther war over slavery! I was raised upon stories of how he
tuck thet thar name of 'Torment' in battle."

"He was my grandpap," the stranger announced, dropping easily into the
phrases of the country.

"Mr. Henderson," said the old