new fangled kind of a savage,
an' th' old man 'lowed he'd show him. He'd sure have him
persecuted fer 'sultin' a gov'ment servant when th' inspector come
around. Yes he did. Oh, thar was doin's at the Forks last night!"

Again the mail carrier's laugh echoed through the woods.

"Well, I must mosey along. He warn't up this mornin' when I left.
Reckon he'll show up 'round here sometime 'fore sun down. Him an'
Uncle Ike won't hitch worth a cent an' he'll be huntin' prouder
folks. I done told th' old man he'd better herd him fer a spell,
fer if he was t' get loose in these woods, there wouldn't be nary
deer er bear left come Thanksgivin' time. Uncle Ike said 'Ba
thundas!' he'd let me know that he warn't runnin' no dummed
asylum. He 'lowed he was postmaster, 'Ba thundas!' an' had all he
could do t' keep th' dad burned gov'ment straight."

Late that afternoon Lou's prophecy was fulfilled. A wagon going
down the Creek with a load of supplies for the distillery stopped
at the mill shed and the stranger began climbing carefully down
over the wheels. Budd Wilson on his high seat winked and nodded at
Mr. Matthews and his son, as though it was the greatest joke of
the season.

"Hold those horses, driver. Hold them tight; tight, sir."

"Got 'em, Mister," responded Budd promptly. The mules stood with
drooping heads and sleepy eyes, the lines under their feet.

The gentleman was feeling carefully about the hub of the wheel
with a foot that, stretch as he might, could not touch it by a
good six inches.

"That's right, man, right," he puffed. "Hold them tight; tight.
Start now, break a leg sure, sure. Then what would Sarah and the
girls do? Oh, blast it all, where is that step? Can't stay here
all day. Bring a ladder. Bring a high chair, a table, a box, a big
box, a--heh--heh--Look out, I say, look out! Blast it all, what do
you mean?" This last was called forth by Young Matt lifting the
little man bodily to the ground, as an ordinary man would lift a
child.

To look up at the young giant, the stranger tipped back his head,
until his shining silk hat was in danger of falling in the dirt.
"Bless my soul, what a specimen! What a specimen!" Then with a
twinkle in his eye, "Which one of the boys are you, anyway?"

At this the three mountaineers roared with laughter. With his
dumpy figure in the long coat, and his round face under the tall
hat, the little man was irresistible. He fairly shone with good
humor; his cheeks were po