up in the
air as to fall in the road.

We were a mile down the long hill, thundering like a drove of mad
steers, when I caught through the tree-tops a glimpse of Cynthia's cart,
and wrenched the bit out of El Mahdi's teeth. He was not inclined to
stop, and plunged, ploughing long furrows in the clay road. But a stiff
steel bit is an unpleasant thing with which to take issue, and he
finally stopped, sliding on his front feet.

We turned the corner in a slow, deliberate trot, and there, as calmly as
though it were the most natural thing in the world, was Cynthia, sitting
as straight as a sapling on the high seat, with the reins held close in
her left hand, and beside her Woodford, and jogging along before the
cart was the bald-faced cattle-horse.

A pretty picture in the cool shade of the golden autumn woods. Of
course, Cynthia was the most beautiful woman in the world. My brother
thought so, and that was enough for us. It was true that Ward observed
her from a point of view wonderfully subject to a powerful bias, but
that was no business of ours. Ward said it, and there the matter ended.
If Ward had said that Cynthia was ugly, a trim, splendid figure, brown
hair, and a manner irresistible would not have saved Cynthia from being
eternally ugly so far as we were concerned; and although Cynthia had
lands and Polled-Angus cattle and spent her winters in France, she must
have remained eternally ugly.

So, when we knew Ward's opinion, from that day Cynthia was moved up to
the head of the line of all the women we had ever heard of, and there
she remained.

Our opinion of Woodford was equally clear. In every way he was our
rival. His lands joined ours, stretching from the black Stone Coal south
to the Valley River. His renters and drivers were as numerous and as
ugly a set as ours.

Besides, he was Ward's rival among the powerful men of the Hills, ten
years older, shrewd, clear-headed, and in his business a daring gambler.
Sometimes he would cross the Stone Coal and buy every beef steer in the
Hills, and sometimes Ward bought. It was a stupendous gamble, big with
gain, or big with loss, and at such times the Berrys of Upshur, the
Alkires of Rock Ford, the Arnolds of Lewis, the Coopmans of Lost Creek,
and even the Queens of the great Valley took the wall, leaving the road
to Woodford and my brother Ward. And when they put their forces in the
field and man[oe]uvred in the open, there were mighty times and someone
was terr