thful service and were not
disturbed in their ideas of their own importance, he would have been
regarded as merely an amusing infant of great age, reaping a reward for
by-gone merits in the careful consideration and indulgence now extended
to him. His inordinate vanity of his personal appearance and his dignity
might have given rise to smiles, down there; here there were those upon
the platform who laughed loudly as he walked away, boasting
vaingloriously, although he evidently feared the trip with the rough
teamster, that he would find "young Marse Frank" in a jiffy and have him
there in no time.

It was while the aged negro was climbing somewhat difficultly to the
side of the good-natured railroad teamster who had promised to give him
a lift upon his way and then supply directions for his further progress,
that Joe Lorey, who had been an interested spectator of the affair,
contemptuous, amused by the old darky, saw, coming through the crowd
behind him and well beyond the range of the newly arrived strangers, the
roughly dressed, mysterious old man whom he had seen, once or twice, up
in the mountains, whom Madge had seen, tapping with his little hammer at
the rocks. Lorey looked toward him with a face which scowled
instinctively. He disliked the man, as he disliked all foreigners who
dared invasion of his wilderness; he would have feared him, too, had he
known that it had really been him and not young Layson and Madge Brierly
who had made the noise there in the thicket which had disturbed him,
that day, when, armed to meet a raid of revenuers, he had rushed out
from his still to find the girl and the young bluegrass gentleman in a
close company which worried him almost as much as the appearance of the
officers, in fact, could have done.

He was a "foreigner," this old man with the manner of the mountains,
and, sometimes, their speech, for he wore bluegrass clothes; therefore
he was one to be classed with the others in his bitter hatred. He was
standing almost in his path, and, by stepping to one side, could have
saved him a small detour round a pile of boxed supplies; but he did not
move an inch, stiffening, instead, delighted at obstructing him.

The old man, as he went around, looked sharply at him, and then smiled,
almost as if he recognized him and could read his thoughts; almost as if
he realized the man's instinctive hate; almost as if he felt a
certainty, deep in his soul, that so great was the disaster hoveri