t you into politics in good shape by this
time," observed Kavanagh, sarcastically. "At any rate, he seems to be
celebrating with a good big bonfire."

At that moment the three of them beheld the farm buildings burst into
flame.

"Offering up sacrifices, too!" commented the satirist. "Seems to me,
Thornton, you ought to be there. They'll be calling for three cheers and
a speech!"

In one heartsick moment Thornton realized that this raging fire had
something to do with the political affairs of that day. He had seen
"Whispering" Urban Cobb at "The Barracks" in the forenoon, and knew that
he had led away a crowd of woodsmen for some purpose of his own. Just
what a dangerous conflagration on the Jo Quacca hills could accomplish
in relation to that caucus, Harlan did not stop to ponder. He could see
that a fire was rioting over his lands, and destroying the property of
others. His horse had already begun to leap for the highway, but the
girl cried after him so beseechingly that he reined the animal back.

"Just one moment, Harlan! A little instant! I haven't unsaddled Zero
yet. Wait!" She whistled, and the horse came cantering. The hounds,
seeing him, leaped and gave tongue understandingly. "I'm going with
you," she declared, swinging to her saddle.

Her father came down off the steps, running at her. "No, you're not, you
wild banshee. What did I just tell you?"

"You told me that children may ride cock-horse--and I'm not sixteen till
to-morrow!" she cried, jumping her horse just as her father's clutching
fingers touched his bridle. She was out in the road before Harlan's
horse had picked up his heels. She swung her little whip above her head.

"Come on, Big Boy!" she urged at the top of her voice, crying above the
clamor of the racing dogs. "We're playfellows to-day, and I can't fall
in love till to-morrow!" The last words she lilted mockingly, flashing a
look backward at Dennis Kavanagh.

The old man did not shift his attitude, fingers curved to clutch, arms
extended, until he heard the tattoo of their horses' hoofs on the long
bridge.

"Maybe Brian Boru might have been proud of her for a daughter," he
muttered, as he trudged back up the steps, "but I'll be dammed if I know
whether I am or not!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE MANTLE OF THELISMER THORNTON

The fire on the Jo Quacca hills was checked at nightfall. Two hundred
beaters and trenchers managed to fight it back and hold it in leash to
feed on the slash