-I would," he said; "but I cannot."

His heart began to beat faster; a tide of wholesome blood stirred and
flowed through his veins. It was the latent decency within him awaking.

"Little path-master," he said, "I am very poor; I have no money. But I
will work out my taxes because you ask me."

He raised his head and looked at the spectral forest where dead pines
towered, ghastly in the moon's beams. That morning he had cut the last
wood on his own land; he had nothing left to sell but a patch of
brambles and a hut which no one would buy.

"I guess I'm no good," he said; "I can't work."

"But what will you do?" she asked, with pitiful eyes raised.

"Do? Oh, what I have done. I can shoot partridges."

"Market-shooting is against the law," she said, faintly.

"The law!" he repeated; "it seems to me there is nothing but law in this
God-forsaken hole!"

"Can't you live within the law? It is not difficult, is it?" she asked.

"It is difficult for me," he said, sullenly. The dogged brute in him was
awaking in its turn. He was already sorry he had promised her to work
out his taxes. Then he remembered the penalty. Clearly he would have to
work, or she would be held responsible.

"If anybody would take an unskilled man," he began, "I--I would try to
get something to do."

"Won't they?"

"No. I tried it--once."

"Only once?"

He gave a short laugh and stooped to pat the collie, saying, "Don't
bother me, little path-master."

"No--I won't," she replied, slowly.

She went away in the moonlight, saying good-night and calling her
collie, and he walked up the slope to the house, curiously at peace with
himself and the dim world hidden in the shadows around.

He was not sleepy. As he had no candles, he sat down in the moonlight,
idly balancing his rifle on his knees. From force of habit he loaded
it, then rubbed the stock with the palm of his hand, eyes dreaming.

Into the tangled garden a whippoorwill flashed on noiseless wings,
rested a moment, unseen, then broke out into husky, breathless calling.
A minute later the whispering call came from the forest's edge, then
farther away, almost inaudible in the thickening dusk.

And, as he sat there, thinking of the little path-master, he became
aware of a man slinking along the moonlit road below. His heart stopped,
then the pulses went bounding, and his fingers closed on his rifle.

There were other men in the moonlight now--he counted five--and he
called out to