those remarkable ears, as they gravely wagged to and fro. That settled things, and as we left, the Hon. Sam was having things his own way, and on the edge of the crowd Uncle Tommie Hendricks was shaking his head:     

       “I tell ye, boys, he ain't no jackass even if he can flop his ears.”      

       At the river we started upstream, and some impulse made me turn in my saddle and look back. All the time I had had an eye open for the young mountaineer whose interest in us seemed to be so keen. And now I saw, standing at the head of a gray horse, on the edge of the crowd, a tall figure with his hands on his hips and looking after us. I couldn't be sure, but it looked like the Wild Dog.     

  

       IV. CLOSE QUARTERS     

       Two hours up the river we struck Buck. Buck was sitting on the fence by the roadside, barefooted and hatless.     

       “How-dye-do?” I said.     

       “Purty well,” said Buck.     

       “Any fish in this river?”      

       “Several,” said Buck. Now in mountain speech, “several” means simply “a good many.”      

       “Any minnows in these branches?”      

       “I seed several in the branch back o' our house.”      

       “How far away do you live?”      

       “Oh, 'bout one whoop an' a holler.” If he had spoken Greek the Blight could not have been more puzzled. He meant he lived as far as a man's voice would carry with one yell and a holla.     

       “Will you help me catch some?” Buck nodded.     

       “All right,” I said, turning my horse up to the fence. “Get on behind.”        The horse shied his hind quarters away, and I pulled him back.     

       “Now, you can get on, if you'll be 

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