The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Son of the Hills, by Harriet T. Comstock

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: A Son of the Hills

Author: Harriet T. Comstock

Release Date: January 22, 2007 [EBook #20424]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SON OF THE HILLS ***

Produced by Al Haines

[Frontispiece: "Cautiously Cynthia stepped close
and looked in . . . Sandy was painting at his easel"]

A SON OF THE HILLS

BY

HARRIET T. COMSTOCK

AUTHOR OF

JOYCE OF THE NORTH WOODS,

JANET OF THE DUNES, ETC.

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS : NEW YORK

Copyright, 1913, by

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

_All rights reserved, including that of
translation into foreign languages,
including the Scandinavian_

A Son of the Hills

CHAPTER I

Lost Hollow lies close at the foot of the mountain which gives it its
name. The height of neither is great, geographically considered; the
peak is perhaps eighteen hundred feet above sea level: The Hollow, a
thousand, and from that down to The Forge there is a gradual descent by
several trails and one road, a very deplorable one, known as The
Appointed Way, but abbreviated into--The Way.

There are a few wretched cabins in Lost Hollow, detached and dreary;
between The Hollow and The Forge are some farms showing more or less
cultivation, and there is the Walden Place, known before the war--they
still speak of that event among the southern hills as if Sheridan had
ridden through in the morning and might be expected back at night--as
the Great House.

Among the crevasses of the mountains there are Blind Tigers, or Speak
Easies--as the stills are called--and, although there is little trading
done with the whiskey outside the country side, there is much mischief
achieved among the natives who have no pleasure of relaxation except
such as is evolved from the delirium brought about by intoxication.

The time of this story is not to-day nor is it very many yesterdays
ago; it was just before young Sandy Morley had his final "call" and
obeyed it; just after the Cup-of-Cold-Water Lady came to Trouble
Neck--three miles from The Hollow--and