eding, and above, the virgin forest where Blant gets out yellow poplar
and other fine timber, and on the very crest of the ridge, the gray,
forbidding "high rocks" that are so fine for fox-hunts, and also, he
says, for "hiding out" in if officers get too troublesome.

"Blant he has a whole passel of warrants hanging over him," he said,
"and the sheriff and deputies they used to come over every now and then
last winter a-hunting him. Of course he couldn't afford to give hisself
up, or put in no time in jail, when he was so bad needed at home; and at
first he would take to the rocks when he seed 'em a-coming. But that was
a heap of trouble, and he got mighty tired of it, and so next time they
rid up he tuck his pistol and stepped out and told 'em that, bad as he
hated to do it, circumstances was such that he would have to fire on 'em
if they kep' bothering around; that he had the living to make for the
family, and no time to spend setting around enjoying hisself in
jail,--that with him duty come before pleasure, and he would have to
request 'em to leave him alone. And seeing how he felt about it, they
never come again for quite a spell,--not till after he kilt Elhannon in
April. Then they kotch him purely by accident, but he got away from 'em
that night,--I'll tell you about it sometime."

We were now approaching the Marrs house, a large, substantial one of
logs, built on the time-honored pattern of "two pens and a
passage,"--that is, two huge rooms, with an open hallway, below, and a
great "loft", large enough for six ordinary rooms, above. "Cap'n Enoch
Marrs raised it, more'n a hundred year' gone," said Nucky.

Entering the open passage, which was hung with saddles, bridles and
gearing of all sorts, and also with strings of beans and peppers, we
passed into one of the lower rooms. Mr. Marrs arose, coughing, from one
of the three large beds, upon which he had been resting, and welcomed me
most kindly. In front of the great fireplace, four young children were
gathered, and the eldest of these, a little woman of eight, held in her
arms an infant, upon whom I looked with special interest. This, then,
was "the babe,"--a beautiful, tiny girl-child of five months, with large
gray eyes in a small white face, and the brightest of little smiles.

The room was bare save for the beds, some chairs, and a great homemade
chest of drawers. On the fireboard were a clock and a few books, yellow
and crumbly, as Nucky had said, and above