rry
person, and that part of Happy Valley rang with his laughter.

"My! I wish I had got there earlier--what were they fighting about?"

"Why, Polly Sizemore, that pretty girl with black hair who lost her head
when--when--I caught hold of Ham." The shoulder of Pleasant Trouble that
was not working up and down over his crutch began to work up and down over
something else.

"What's the matter, Pleasant?" asked the girl.

"Nothin'." But he was grinning when they reached the steps of the Mission,
and he turned on Miss Holden a dancing eye.

"Polly nothin'--them two boys was a-fightin' about _you_!" And he left
her aghast and wheeled chuckling away.

Next afternoon the Marquise bade her little brood a tearful good-by
and rode with her lover up Happy Valley to go over the mountain, on
to the railroad, and back into the world. At the mouth of Wolf Run
Pleasant Trouble was waiting to shake hands.

"Tell Polly good-by for me, Pleasant," said Miss Holden. "She
wasn't there."

"Polly and the soldier boy rid up to the Leetle Jedge o' Happy Valley
last night to git married."

"Oh," said Miss Holden, and she flushed a little. "And Ham and King
weren't there--where do you suppose they are?" Pleasant pointed to a
green little hollow high up a ravine.

"They're up thar."

"Alone?" Pleasant nodded and Miss Holden looked anxious.

"They aren't fighting again?"

"Oh, no!"

"Do you suppose they are _really_ friends now?"

"Ham an' King air as lovin' as a pair o' twins," said Pleasant decidedly
and Miss Holden looked much pleased.

"What on earth are they doing up there?"

"Well," drawled Pleasant, "when they ain't huggin' an' shakin' hands
they're wrasslin' with a jug o' moonshine."

The Mission girl looked disturbed, and the merry stranger let loose
his ringing laugh.

"Oh, dear! Now, where do you suppose they got moonshine?"

"I tol' you," repeated Pleasant, "that I didn't know nobody who couldn't
git moonshine." Miss Holden sighed, her lover laughed again, and they rode
away, Pleasant watching them till they were out of sight.

"Whut I aimed to say was," corrected Pleasant mentally, "I didn't know
nobody who _knowed me_ that couldn't git it." And he jingled the coins
in his pockets that at daybreak that morning had been in the pockets of
Ham and King.

HIS LAST CHRISTMAS GIFT

The sergeant got the wounded man to his feet and threw one arm around
his waist. Then he all but carried him, stumbling alon