s it that fired, Uncle Eli!"

"The brother o' the young fellow he had shot befo'."

"Was he dead?" asked the boy.

"Wa'al," said the mountaineer, a little grimly, "I didn' go down to see
an' wait aroun' 'till all his friends gathered. But I reckon he was dead
when they found him later."

"And the brothers?"

"They never came into the story at all. I'm jes' mentionin' this to yo'
to show yo' that thar's reason in my advisin' yo' to keep clar o' this
district. If you're reckonin' on doin' census work, yo' go somewhar that
you're not known to any one. Thar's trouble enough even for a stranger
in the mount'ns, an' a stranger would find it easier than any one else."

"Why is that, Uncle Eli?" asked the boy.

"In the first place, yo' can't show discourtesy to a stranger, an' yo'
know that if he doesn' do things jes' the way yo' like to have 'em done,
it's because he doesn' know, an' so he's not to blame. I like your
spirit about the census, Hamilton," the old mountaineer continued, "an'
if yo' can give the gov'nment any service, I reckon yo'd better try, but
leave the mount'n districts either to popular favorites or to a
stranger."

CHAPTER II

RESCUING A LOST RACE

That same evening, as it chanced, one of the younger Wilsh boys came up
to the house on an errand from a neighbor, and Hamilton, remembering
that the messenger's father had been a go-between in the feud story he
had been hearing, noted the lad with interest. Indeed, his appearance
was striking enough in itself, with his drooping form, his extreme
paleness, and his look of exhaustion.

"How far is it from the Burtons, Uncle Eli?" asked Hamilton.

"Eight miles," was the reply.

Hamilton stared at the mountain boy. Judging from his looks he was not
strong enough to walk a hundred yards, yet he had just come eight miles,
and evidently was intending to walk back home that evening. Then
Hamilton remembered that this lad was one of the "poor whites" of whom
he had read so much, and he strolled toward the messenger who was
sitting listlessly on one of the steps.

"Howdy!" said the newcomer in a tired voice.

Hamilton answered his greeting, and, after a few disjointed sentences,
said:

"You look tired. It must be a long walk from the Burtons."

"Jes' tol'able," the boy answered. "I'm not so tired. You f'm the city?"
he queried a few minutes later, evidently noting the difference between
Hamilton's appearance and that of the boys in the neighbo