and why do you come here, skulking like Indians?"

The man falls back; but recovering, he says, over his shoulder, as he
turns to go:

"Yes, skulking around your cabin, like that other Injun, John Logan!"

The man jerks the coon-skin cap up on his left ear as he says this, and,
tossing his head, steps back into the thick woods and is gone.

Later in the evening, John Logan, gun in hand, passes slowly and
dreamily down the trail, close to old Forty-nine's cabin. Stumps and
Carrie are at play in the wood close at hand, and come forth at a bound.

"Booh!" cries Carrie, darting around from behind a tree. "Booh! Mr. John
Logan," continues the girl, and then with her two dimpled brown hands
she throws back the glorious storm of black abundant hair, that all the
time tumbles about her beautiful face.

"Why, Carrie, is that you? and Stumps, too? I am glad to see you. I--I
was feeling awful lonesome."

"Been down to Squire Fields' again, haven't you?"

The girl has reached one hand out against a tree, and half leaning on it
swings her right foot to and fro. John Logan starts just a little, looks
at her, sighs, sets the breech of his gun on the ground, and as his eyes
turn to hers, she sees he is very sad.

"Yes, Carrie, I--I am lonesome at my cabin since--since mother died. All
the time, Carrie, I see her as I saw her that night, when I got home,
sitting there on the porch, looking straight out at the gate, waiting
for me, her hand on the dog's head, as if to hold him."

As he says this, poor little Stumps stands up close against a tree,
draws his head down, and pulls up his shoulders.

"Yes, her long bony fingers resting on his head, holding him--and the
faithful dog never moving for fear he would disturb her--for she was
dead."

"Oh, Mr. John Logan, don't tell me about it--don't!" and the girl's
apron is again raised to her face as she shudders.

"Poor old woman with the holler eyes," says Stumps to himself, in a tone
that is scarcely audible.

"But there, never mind." The strong, handsome fellow brushes a tear
aside, and taking up his gun again, tries to be cheerful, and shake off
the care that encompasses him.

"And you got lonesome, and went down to see Sylvia Fields, didn't you?"

Again the girl's foot swings, and she looks askance from under her dark,
heavy hair, at John Logan.

"Carrie, listen to me. Ever since I can remember, my mother waited and
watched for my coming at my cabin door. But now, only