steady dark eyes and the tail hanging down the lad's neck. And on his feet were—moccasins! The carriage moved out of the stream and the old driver got down to hook the check-reins over the shining bit of metal that curved back over the little saddles to which the boy's eyes had swiftly strayed. Then they came back to the Major. 

 "Howdye!" said Chad. 

 "Good-mornin', little man," said the Major pleasantly, and Chad knew straightway that he had found a friend. But there was silence. Chad scanned the horses and the strange vehicle and the old driver and the little pickaninny who, hearing the boy's voice, had stood up on his seat and was grinning over one of the hind wheels, and then his eyes rested on the Major with a simple confidence and unconscious appeal that touched the Major at once. 

 "Are you goin' my way?" The Major's nature was too mellow and easy-going to pay any attention to final g's. Chad lifted his old gun and pointed up the road. 

 "I'm a-goin' thataway." 

 "Well, don't you want to ride?" 

 "Yes," he said, simply. 

 "Climb right in, my boy." 

 So Chad climbed in, and, holding the old rifle upright between his knees, he looked straight forward, in silence, while the Major studied him with a quiet smile. 

 "Where are you from, little man?" 

 "I come from the mountains." 

 "The mountains?" said the Major. 

 The Major had fished and hunted in the mountains, and somewhere in that unknown region he owned a kingdom of wild mountain-land, but he knew as little about the people as he knew about the Hottentots, and cared hardly more. 

 "What are you doin' up here?" 

 "I'm goin' home," said Chad. 

 "How did you happen to come away?" 

 "Oh, I been wantin' to see the settleMINTS." 

 Prev. P 45/217 next