over the line from Pennsylvania.

I know that when I left him he was convinced the war must be fought to a
decisive finish before any of our western valleys could be safe. On one
point he was very positive: the Cherokees, he insisted, would not join the
Ohio tribes, despite the murder of Oconostota's brother. Could the people
of the Clinch and Holston have felt the same confidence, they would have
spared themselves much nagging.

I took my time in returning to Salem, for there was much to think over.
The bulk of my meditations concerned Patsy Dale. I decided to see her once
more before crossing the mountains. I had no hope of finding her changed,
but I did not intend to leave a shadow of a doubt in my own mind. I would
leave no room for the torturing thought that had I been less precipitate
she would have been more kindly.

Yet I had no foolish expectations; I knew Patricia. This last interview
was to be an orderly settlement of the whole affair, and assurance that
self-accusation should not accompany me to the wilderness. Then with the
war over there would be no over-mountain ties to hold me back from the
Kentucky country, or the Natchez lands.

I reached Richfield just as Colonel Lewis was setting forth to settle some
wrangling between two of his captains. It was the old contention over
enlistments, each leader charging the other with stealing men. I stopped
only long enough to get my horse and to induce the colonel to let me have
twenty pounds of powder and ten pounds of lead for the settlers. The lead
was sufficient for seven hundred rounds and, divided into one-fourth
portions, the powder would give a consciousness of power of eighty
riflemen.

It was late afternoon when my fresh mount brought me to Salem, and without
any hesitation--for I must move while my resolve was high--I galloped out
to the Dale house. The low sun extended my shadow to a grotesque length as
I flung myself from the saddle and with an attempt at a bold swagger
advanced to find the maid. I am sure my bearing suggested confidence, but
it was purely physical.

Inwardly I was quaking and wondering how I should begin my explanation for
this second call. I was a most arrant coward when I mounted the veranda.
The carefully rehearsed calm of my leather face vanished and I made the
discouraging discovery that my features were out of control. The door of
the house was open. I rapped loudly and frowned. A shuffling step, which
never could be Patri