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+Project Gutenberg's The Girl From Tim's Place, by Charles Clark Munn
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Girl From Tim's Place
+
+Author: Charles Clark Munn
+
+Illustrator: Frank T. Merrill
+
+Release Date: November 3, 2010 [EBook #34202]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRL FROM TIM'S PLACE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.fadedpage.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "For God's sake give me suthin' to eat."]
+
+
+
+
+THE GIRL FROM TIM'S PLACE
+
+
+
+
+THE GIRL FROM TIM'S PLACE
+
+BY CHARLES CLARK MUNN
+
+Author of "Pocket Island," "Uncle Terry,"
+"The Hermit," "Rockhaven."
+
+ILLUSTRATED BY FRANK T. MERRILL
+
+New York
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP
+
+PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+Published, March, 1906.
+
+Copyright, 1906, by LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
+
+All rights reserved.
+
+The Girl from Tim's Place.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+When we leave the world's busy haunts and penetrate the primal solitude
+of a vast wilderness, a new realm peopled by mystic genii opens to
+us. Each sombre gorge, where twisted roots clasp the moss-coated walls,
+discloses fabled gnomes and dryads. Nymphs and naiads outline their
+shadowy forms in the mist of every cascade. Elfin sprites dance in
+the ripples of a laughing brook, and brownies scamper away over the
+leaf-swept hilltops.
+
+A wondrous Presence, multiform, omnipresent, and ever fascinating, meets
+us on every hand, and there in those magic aisles and sombre glades,
+where man seems far away and God very near, Nature sits enthroned.
+
+It is with the hope that a few of my readers may feel this forest-born
+mood, and in its poetic spirit forget worldly cares, that I have written
+the story of "The Girl from Tim's Place."
+
+                                                        THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+  "For God's sake give me suthin' to eat"
+  (_Frontispiece_)                                           23
+  All the goblin forms and hideous shapes of Old
+  Tomah's fancy were rushing and leaping about               21
+  Nearer and nearer that unconscious girl it crept!         123
+  He grasped and struck at this enemy in a blind
+  instinct of self-preservation                             195
+  "Won't you please give me a lift an' a chance
+  to earn my vittles for a day or two?"                     260
+  "Thank God, little gal, I've found what belongs
+  to ye"                                                    272
+  "Quit takin' on so, girlie," he said                      325
+  "I did mean to hate you, but I--I can't"                  416
+
+
+
+
+PART I
+
+CHIP MCGUIRE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Chip was very tired. All that long June day, since Tim's harsh, "Come,
+out wid ye," had roused her to daily toil, until now, wearied and
+disconsolate, she had crept, barefoot, up the back stairs to her room,
+not one moment's rest or one kindly word had been hers.
+
+Below, in the one living room of Tim's Place, the men were grouped
+playing cards, and the medley of their oaths, their laughter, the thump
+of knuckles on the bare table, and the pungent odor of pipes, reached
+her through the floor cracks. Outside the fireflies twinkled above the
+slow-running river and along the stump-dotted hillside. Close by, a
+few pigs dozed contentedly in their rudely constructed sty.
+
+A servant to those scarce fit for servants, a menial at the beck and call
+of all Tim's Place, and laboring with the men in the fields, Chip, a
+girl of almost sixteen, felt her soul revolt at the filth, the brutality,
+the coarse existence of those whose slave she was.
+
+And what a group they were!
+
+First, Tim Connor, the owner and master of this oasis in the wilderness,
+sixty miles from the nearest settlement; his brother Mike, as coarse;
+their wives and a half a dozen children who played with the pigs,
+squealed as often for food, and were left to grow up the same way;
+and Pierre Lubec, the hired man, completed the score.
+
+There was another transient resident here, an old Indian named Tomah,
+who came with the snow, and deserted his hut below on the river bank when
+spring unlocked that stream.
+
+Two occasional visitors also came here, both even more objectionable
+to Chip than Tim and his family. One was her father, known to her to be
+an outlaw and escaped murderer in hiding; the other a half-breed named
+Bolduc, but known as One-eyed Pete, a trapper and hunter whose abode
+was a log cabin on the Fox Hole, ten miles away. His face was horribly
+scarred by a wildcat's claws; one eye-socket was empty; his lips,
+chin, and protruding teeth were always tobacco-stained. For three months
+now, he had made weekly calls at Tim's Place, in pursuit of Chip. His
+wooing, as might be expected, had been a persistent leering at her with
+his one sinister eye, oft-repeated innuendoes and insinuations of
+lascivious nature, scarce understood by her, with now and then attempted
+familiarity. These advances had met with much the same reception once
+accorded him by the wildcat.
+
+Both these visitors were now with the group below. That fact was of
+no interest to Chip, except in connection with a more pertinent one--a
+long conference she had observed between them that day. What it was
+about, she could not guess, and yet some queer intuition told her that it
+concerned her. Ordinarily, she would have sought sleep in her box-on-legs
+bed; now she crouched on the floor, listening.
+
+For an hour the game and its medley of sounds continued; then
+cessation, the tramp of heavily shod feet, the light extinguished,
+and finally--silence. A few minutes of this, and then the sound of
+whispered converse, low yet distinct, reached Chip from outside.
+Cautiously she crept to her window.
+
+"I gif you one hunerd dollars now, for ze gal," Pete was saying, "an'
+one hunerd more when you fotch her."
+
+"It's three hundred down, I've told ye, or we don't do business,"
+was her father's answer, in almost a hiss.
+
+A pain like a knife piercing her heart came to Chip.
+
+"But s'pose she run away?" came in Pete's voice.
+
+"What, sixty miles to a settlement? You must be a damn fool!"
+
+"An' if she no mind me?"
+
+"Wal, thrash her then; she's yours."
+
+"But I no gif so much," parleyed Pete; "I gif you one-feefty now, an'
+one hunerd when she come."
+
+"You'll give what I say, and be quick about it, or I'll take her out
+to-morrow, and you'll never see her again; so fork over."
+
+"And you fotch her to-morrow?"
+
+"Yes, I told you." And so the bargain was concluded.
+
+Only a moment more, while Chip sat numb and dazed, then came the sound of
+footsteps, as the two men separated, and then silence over Tim's Place.
+
+And yet, what a horror for Chip! Sold like a horse or a pig to this
+worse than disgusting half-breed, and on the morrow to be taken--no,
+dragged--to the half-breed's hut by her hated father.
+
+Hardly conscious of the real intent and object of this purchase, she yet
+understood it dimly. Life here was bad enough--it was coarse, unloved,
+even filthy, and yet, hard as it was, it was a thousand times better
+than slavery with such an owner.
+
+And now, still weak and trembling from the shock, she raised her head
+cautiously and peeped out of the window. A faint spectral light from
+the rising moon outlined the log barn, the two log cabins, and pigsty,
+which, with the frame house she was in, comprised Tim's Place. Above
+and beyond where the forest enclosed the hillside, it shone brighter,
+and as Chip looked out upon the ethereal silvered view, away to the
+right she saw the dark opening into the old tote road. Up this they
+had brought her, eight years before. Never since had she traversed it;
+and yet, as she looked at it now, an inspiration born of her father's
+sneer came to her.
+
+It was a desperate chance, a foolhardy step--a journey so appalling,
+so almost hopeless, she might well hesitate; and yet, escape that way was
+her one chance. Only a moment longer she waited, then gathering her few
+belongings--a pair of old shoes, the moccasins Old Tomah had given her, a
+skirt and jacket fashioned from Tim's cast-off garments, a fur cap,
+and soft felt hat--she thrust them into a soiled pillow-case and crept
+down the stairs.
+
+Once out, she looked about, listened, then darted up the hillside,
+straight for the tote road entrance. Here she paused, put on her
+moccasins, and looked back.
+
+The moon, now above the tree-tops, shone full upon Tim's Place,
+softening and silvering all its ugliness and all its squalor. Away to
+the left stood Tomah's hut, across the river, a shining path bright
+and rippled.
+
+In spite of the awful dread of her situation and the years of her hard,
+unpaid, and ofttimes cursed toil, a pang of regret now came to her. This
+was her home, wretched as it was. Here she had at least been fed and
+warmed in winters, and here Old Tomah had shown her kindness. Oh, if
+he were only in his hut now, that she might go and waken him softly,
+and beg him to take her in his canoe and speed down the river!
+
+But no! only her own desperate courage would now avail, and realizing
+that this look upon Tim's Place was the last one, she turned and fled
+down the path. Sixty miles of stony, bush-encumbered, brier-grown,
+seldom-travelled road lay ahead of her! Sixty miles of mingled swamp,
+morass, and rock-ribbed hill! Sixty miles through the sombre silence
+and persistent menace of a wilderness, peopled only by death-intending
+creatures, yellow-eyed and sharp-fanged!
+
+With only a sickening, soul-nauseating fate awaiting her at Tim's
+Place, and her sole escape this almost insane flight, she sped on. The
+faint, spectral rifts of moonlight through interlaced fir and spruce
+as often deceived as aided her; bending boughs whipped her, bushes
+and logs tripped her, sharp stones and pointed sticks bit her; she
+hurried over hillocks, wallowed through sloughs and dashed into tangles
+of briers, heedless of all except her one mad impulse to escape.
+
+Soon the ever present menace of a wilderness assailed her,--the yowl
+of a wildcat close at hand; in a swamp, the sharp bark of a wolf; on a
+hillside above her, the hoot of an owl; and when after two hours of this
+desperate flight had exhausted her and she was forced to halt, strange
+creeping, crawling things seemed all about.
+
+And now the erratic, fantastic belief of Old Tomah returned to her. With
+him the forest was peopled by a weird, uncanny race, sometimes visible
+and sometimes not--"spites," he called them, and they were the souls
+of both man and beast; sometimes good, sometimes evil, according as
+they had been in life, and all good or ill luck was due to their ghostly
+influences. They followed the hunter and trapper day and night, luring
+him into safety or danger, as they chose. They were everywhere, and in
+countless numbers, ready and sure to avenge all wrongs and reward all
+virtues. They had a Chieftain also, a great white spectre who came forth
+from the north in winter, and swept across the wilderness, spreading
+death and terror.
+
+Many times at Tim's Place, Chip had sat enthralled on winter evenings,
+while Old Tomah described these mystic genii. They were so real to him
+that he made them real to her, and now, alone in this vast wilderness,
+spectral in the faint moonlight and filled with countless terrors, they
+returned in full force. On every side she could see them, creeping,
+crawling, through the undergrowth or along the interlaced boughs above
+her. She could hear the faint hiss of their breath in the night wind,
+see the gleam of their little eyes in dark places--they were crossing
+the path in front of her, following close behind, and gathering about
+her from every direction.
+
+Beneath bright sunlight, a vast wilderness is at best a place peopled
+by many terrors. Its solitude seems uncanny, its shadow fearsome, its
+silence ominous. The creaking of limbs moving in the breeze sounds like
+the shriek of demons; the rush of winds becomes the hiss of serpents.
+Vague terrors assail one on every hand, and the rustle of each dry
+leaf, or breaking of every twig, becomes the footfall of a savage
+beast. We advance only with caution, oft halting to look and listen. A
+stern, defiant _Presence_ seems everywhere confronting us, and the weird
+mysticism of Nature bids us beware. By night this invisible Something
+becomes of monstrous proportions. Ghosts fashion themselves out of each
+rift of light, and every rock, thick-grown tree-top, or dark shadow
+becomes a goblin.
+
+To Chip, educated only in the fantastic lore of Old Tomah, these terrors
+now became insanity-breeding. She could not turn back--better death
+among the spites than slaving to the half-breed; and so, faint from
+awful fear, gasping from miles of running, she stumbled on. And now a
+little hope came, for the road bent down beside the river, and its low
+voice seemed a word of cheer. Into its cool depths she could at least
+plunge and die, as a last resort.
+
+Soon an opening showed ahead, and a bridge appeared. Here, for the first
+time, on this vantage point, she halted. How thrice blessed those knotted
+logs now seemed! She hugged and patted them in abject gratitude. She
+crawled to the edge and looked over into the dark, gurgling water. Up
+above lay a faint ripple of silver. Here, also, she could see the
+moon almost at the zenith, and a few flickering stars.
+
+A trifle of courage and renewal of hope now came. Her face and hands were
+scratched and bleeding, clothing torn, feet and legs black with mud. But
+these things she neither noticed nor felt--only that blessed bridge of
+logs that gave her safety, and the moon that bade her hope.
+
+Then she began to count her chances. This landmark told her that five
+miles of her desperate journey had been covered and she was still alive.
+She began to calculate. How soon would her escape be discovered, and
+who would pursue her? Only Pete, her purchaser, she felt sure, and
+there was a possible chance that he might return to his cabin before
+doing so. Or perhaps he might sleep late, and thus give her one or two
+hours more of time.
+
+[Illustration: All the goblin forms and hideous shapes of Old Tomah's
+fancy were rushing and leaping about.]
+
+And now she began to review the usual morning movements at Tim's
+Place--Tim the first one up, calling her, then going out to milking; the
+others, slower to arise, getting out and about their special duties.
+Pete, she knew, always slept in one of the two empty log cabins which
+were first built there. Her father slept in the other or in the barn.
+Neither would be called, she knew--it was get around in time for
+breakfast at Tim's Place or go hungry. And so she speculated on her
+chances of early pursuit. Here on this bridge she now meant to remain
+until the first sign of dawn, then push on again with all speed. She
+already had a five-mile start, she was weary, footsore, and still faint
+from the awful terrors of her flight; to go on meant to rush into the
+swarm of spites once more, and so she lay inert on the hard logs
+watching, listening, calculating.
+
+And now cheered by this trifling hope and lessening sense of danger,
+her past life came back. Her childhood in a far-off settlement; the
+home always in a turmoil from the strange men and women ever coming and
+going; the drinking, swearing, singing, at all hours of the night, her
+constant fear of them and wonder who they were and why they came. There
+were other features of this disturbed life: frequent quarrels between
+her father and mother; curses, tears, and sometimes blows, until at
+last after a night more hideous than any other her mother had taken her
+and fled. Then came a long journey to another village and a new life
+of peace and quietness. Here it was all so different--no red-shirted men
+to be afraid of, no loud-voiced women drinking with them. She became
+acquainted with other children of her own age, was sent to school and
+taken to church. Here, also, her mother began to smile once more, and
+look content. For two years, and the only ones Chip cared to recall,
+she had been a happy schoolgirl, and then came a sudden, tragic end to
+it all. Of that she never wished to think. It was all so horrible, and
+yet so mercifully brief.
+
+The one friend life held, her mother, had been brought home, wounded
+to death amid the whirring wheels of the mill where she worked; there
+were a few hours of agonized dread as her life ebbed away, a whisper or
+two of love and longing, and then the sad farewell made doubly awful by
+her father's frowning face and harsh voice. At its ending, and in spite
+of her fears and tears, she was now borne away by him. For days they
+journeyed deeper and deeper into a vast wilderness, to halt at last at
+Tim's Place.
+
+Like a dread dream it all came back now, as she lay there on this one
+flat spot of security--the bridge--and listened to the river's low
+murmur.
+
+The moon was lowering now. Already the shadow of the stream's bordering
+trees had reached her. First the stars vanished, then the moon faded
+into a dim patch of light, finally that disappeared, a chill breeze
+swept down from a neighboring mountain, and the trees began to moan
+and creak. Then a fiercer blast swept through the forest, the great
+firs and spruces bent and groaned and screamed. Surely the spites were
+gathering in force again, and this was their doing.
+
+Once more she began to hear them creeping, crawling, over the bridge.
+They spit, they snarled, they growled. The darkness grew more intense,
+no longer could the river's course be seen, but only a black chasm.
+
+All through her mad flight the wilderness had been ghostly and spectral
+in the moonlight; now it had become lost in inky blackness, yet alive
+with demoniac voices. All the goblin forms and hideous shapes of Old
+Tomah's fancy were rushing and leaping about. Now high up in the
+tree-tops, now deep in the hollows, they screamed and shrieked and moaned.
+
+And now, just as this fierce battle of sound and spectral shape was at
+its worst, and Chip, a hopeless, helpless mite of humanity, crouched low
+upon the bridge, suddenly a vicious growl reached her, and raising her
+head she saw at the bridge's end two gleaming eyes!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Martin Frisbie and his nephew Raymond Stetson, or Ray, were cutting
+boughs and carrying them to two tents standing in the mouth of a
+bush-choked opening into the forest. In front of this Angie, Martin's
+wife, was placing tin dishes, knives, and forks, upon a low table of
+boards. Upon the bank of a broad, slow-running stream, two canoes were
+drawn out, and halfway between these and the table a camp-fire burnt.
+
+Here Levi, Martin's guide for many trips into this wilderness, was also
+occupied, intently watching two pails depending from bending wambecks,
+a coffee-pot hanging from another, and two frying-pans, whose sputtering
+contents gave forth an enticing odor.
+
+Twilight was just falling, the river murmured in low melody, and a few
+rods above a small rill entered it, adding a more musical tinkle.
+
+Soon Levi deftly swung one of the pails away from the flame with a
+hook-stick and speared a potato with a fork.
+
+"Supper ready," he called; and then as the rest seated themselves at
+the table, he advanced, carrying the pail of steaming potatoes on the
+hooked stick and the frying-pan in his other hand.
+
+The meal had scarce begun when a crackling in the undergrowth back of
+the tent was heard, and on the instant there emerged a girl. Her clothing
+was in shreds, her face and hands were black with mud, streaks of blood
+showed across cheek and chin, and her eyes were fierce and sunken.
+
+"For God's sake give me suthin' to eat," she said, looking from one
+to another of the astonished group. "I'm damn near starved--only a
+bite," she added, sinking to her knees and extending her hands. "I
+hain't eat nothin' but roots 'n' berries for three days."
+
+Angie was the first to recover. "Here," she said, hastily extending
+her plate, "take this."
+
+Without a word the starved creature grasped it and began eating as only a
+desperate, hungry animal would, while the group watched her.
+
+"Don't hurry so," exclaimed Martin, whose wits had now returned.
+"Here, take this cup of coffee."
+
+Soon the food vanished and then the girl arose. "Sit down again, my poor
+child," entreated Angie, who had observed the strange scene with moist
+eyes, "and tell us who you are and where you came from."
+
+"My name's Chip," answered the girl, bluntly, "an' I'm runnin'
+away from Tim's Place, 'cause dad sold me to Pete Bolduc."
+
+"Sold--you--to--Pete--Bolduc," exclaimed Angie, looking at her
+wide-eyed. "What do you mean?"
+
+"He did, sartin," answered the girl, laconically. "I heerd 'em
+makin' the bargain, 'n' I fetched three hundred dollars."
+
+Martin and his wife exchanged glances.
+
+"Well, and then what?" continued Angie.
+
+"Wal, then I waited a spell, till they'd turned in," explained
+the girl, "and then I lit out. I knowed 'twas sixty miles to the
+settlement, but 'twas moonlight 'n' I chanced it. I've had an awful
+time, though, the spites hev chased me all the way. I was jist makin' a
+nestle when I seed yer light, an' I crept through the brush 'n'
+peeked. I seen ye wa'n't nobody from Tim's Place, 'n' then I cum
+out. I guess you've saved my life. I was gittin' dizzy."
+
+It was a brief, blunt story whose directness bespoke truth; but it
+revealed such a pigsty state of morality at this Tim's Place that the
+little group of astonished listeners could scarce finish supper or
+cease watching this much-soiled girl.
+
+"And so your name is Chip," queried Angie at last. "Chip what?"
+
+"Chip McGuire," answered the waif, quickly; "only my real name ain't
+Chip, it's Vera; but they've allus called me Chip at Tim's Place."
+
+"And your father sold you to this man?"
+
+"He did, 'n' he's a damn bad man," replied Chip, readily. "He
+killed somebody once, an' he don't show up often. I hate him!"
+
+"You mustn't use swear words," returned Angie, "it's not nice."
+
+The girl looked abashed. "I guess you'd cuss if you'd been sold to
+such a nasty-looking man as Pete," she responded. "He chaws terbaccer
+'n' lets it drizzle on his chin, 'n' he hain't but one eye."
+
+Angie smiled, while Martin stared at the girl with increased
+astonishment. He knew who this McGuire was, and something of his
+history, and that Tim's Place was a hillside clearing far up the
+river, inhabited by an Irish family devoted to the raising of
+potatoes. He had halted there once, long enough to observe its somewhat
+slothful condition, and to buy pork and potatoes; but this tale was a
+revelation, and the girl herself a greater one.
+
+This oasis in the wilderness was fully forty miles above here, its only
+connection with civilization was a seldom-used log road which only an
+experienced woodsman could follow, and how this mere child had dared it,
+was a marvel.
+
+But there she was, squat on the ground and watching them with big black,
+pleading eyes. There was but one thing to do, to care for her now,
+as humanity insisted, and Angie made the first move. It was in the
+direction of cleanliness; for entering the tent, she soon appeared with
+some of her own extra clothing, soap, and towels, and bade the girl
+follow her up the river a few rods.
+
+The moon was shining clearly above the tree-tops, the camp-fire burned
+brightly, and Martin, Ray, and Levi were lounging near it when the two
+returned, and in one an astonishing transformation had taken place.
+
+Angie had gone away with a girl of ten in respect to clothing, her skirt
+evidently made of gunny cloth and reaching but little below her knees,
+and for a waist, what was once a man's red flannel shirt, and both in
+rags. Soiled with black mud, and bleeding, she was an object pitiable
+beyond words; she returned a young lady, almost, in stature, her face
+shining and rosy, and her eyes so tender with gratitude that they were
+pathetic.
+
+Another change had also come with cleanliness and clothing--a sudden
+bashfulness. It was some time ere she could be made to talk again,
+but finally that wore away and then her story came. What a tale it
+was--scarce credible.
+
+At first were growing terrors as she plunged deeper and deeper into
+the shadowy forest, the brush and logs that tripped her, the mud holes
+she wallowed through, the ever increasing horrors of this flight, the
+blood-chilling cries of night prowlers, the gathering darkness while
+she waited on the bridge, the awful moment when she saw two yellow eyes
+watching her, not twenty feet away, her screams of agonized fear, and
+then time that seemed eternity, while she expected the next moment to
+feel the fangs of a hungry panther.
+
+How blessed the first dawn of morning had seemed, how she ran on and
+on, until faint with hunger she halted to eat roots, leaves,
+berries--anything to sustain life! The river had been her one boon
+of hope and consolation, and even beyond the fear of wild beast had
+been the dread of pursuit and capture by this half-breed. When night
+came, she had crept into a thicket, covering herself with boughs;
+when daylight dawned, she had pushed on again, ever growing weaker and
+oft stumbling from faintness.
+
+Hope had almost vanished, her strength had quite left her, the last day
+had been a partial blank so far as knowledge of her progress went, but
+filled with eerie sights and sounds. From first to last the spites of
+Old Tomah had kept her company--by day she heard them, swifter-footed
+than she, in the undergrowth; by night they were all about, dodging
+behind trees, hopping from limb to limb, and sometimes snapping and
+snarling. The one supreme moment of joy, oft referred to, was when she
+had seen her rescuers' camp-fire, with human, and possibly friendly,
+faces about it.
+
+It was a fantastic, weird, almost spookish tale,--the spectres she had
+seen were so real to her that the telling made them seem almost so to
+the rest, and beyond that, the girl herself, so like a young witch, with
+her shadowy eyes and furtive glances, added to the illusion.
+
+But now came a diversion, for Levi freshened the fire, and at a nod
+from Angie, Ray brought forth his banjo. It was his one pet foible, and
+it went with him everywhere, and now, with time and place so in accord,
+he was glad to exhibit his talent. He was not an expert,--a few jigs and
+plantation melodies composed his repertory,--but with the moonlight
+glinting through the spruce boughs, the river murmuring near, somehow one
+could not fail to catch the quaint humor of "Old Uncle Ned," "Jim
+Crack Corn," and the like, and see the two dusky lovers as they floated
+down the "Tombigbee River," and feel the pathos of "Nellie Grey"
+and "Old Kentucky Home."
+
+Ray sang fairly well and in sympathy with each theme. To Angie and the
+rest it was but ordinary; but to this waif, who never before had heard
+a banjo or a darky song, it was marvellous. Her face lit up with keen
+interest, her eyes grew misty at times, and once two tears stole down
+her cheeks.
+
+For an hour Ray was the centre of interest, and then Angie arose.
+
+"Come, Chip," she said pleasantly, "it's time to go to bed, and you
+are to share my tent."
+
+"I'd rather not," the girl replied bluntly. "I ain't fit. I kin jist
+ez well curl 'longside o' the fire."
+
+But Angie insisted and the girl followed her into the tent.
+
+Here occurred another incident that must be related. Angie, always
+devout, and somewhat puritanical, was one who never forgot her nightly
+prayer, and now, when ready for slumber, she knelt on the bed of fir
+twigs, and by the light of one small candle offered her usual petition,
+while Chip watched her with wide and wondering eyes. As might be
+expected, that waif was mentioned, and with deep feeling.
+
+"Do ye s'pose God heard ye?" she queried with evident candor, when
+Angie ceased.
+
+"Why, certainly," came the earnest answer; "God hears all prayers."
+
+"And do the spites hear 'em?"
+
+"There are no such creatures as 'spites,'" answered Angie,
+severely; "you only imagine them, and what this Indian has told you is
+superstition."
+
+"But I've seen 'em, hundreds on 'em, big and little," returned the
+girl, stoutly.
+
+Angie looked at her with pity.
+
+"Put that notion out of your head, once for all," she said, almost
+sternly. "It is only a delusion, and no doubt told to scare you."
+
+And poor Chip, conscious that perhaps she had sinned in speech, said no
+more.
+
+For a long time Angie lay sleepless upon her fragrant bed, recalling the
+waif's strange story and trying to grasp the depth and breadth of her
+life at Tim's Place; also to surmise, if possible, how serious a taint
+of evil she had inherited. That her father was vile beyond compare seemed
+positive; that her mother might have been scarce better was probable.
+No mention, thus far, had been made of her; and so Angie reflected
+upon this pitiful child's ancestry and what manner of heritage she had
+been blessed or cursed with. Some of her attributes awoke Angie's
+admiration. She had shown utter abhorrence of this brutal sale of
+herself, a marvellous courage in endeavoring to escape it. She seemed
+grateful for what had been done for her, and a partial realization of
+her own unfitness for association with refined people. Her speech was no
+worse than might be expected from her life at Tim's Place. Doubtless,
+she was unable to read or write. And so Angie lay, considering all the
+pros and cons of the situation and of this girl's life.
+
+There was also another side to it all, the humane one. They were on
+their way out of the wilderness, for a business visit to the nearest
+settlement, intending to return to the woods in a few days--and what
+was to be done with this child of misfortune?
+
+Most assuredly they must protect her for the present. But was there any
+one to whom she could be turned over and cared for? It seemed possible
+this brutal buyer of her would follow her out of the woods, to abduct her
+if found, and then the moral side of this episode with all its abominable
+possibilities occurred to Angie, who was, above all, unselfish and
+noble-hearted. Vice, crime, and immorality were horrible to her.
+
+Here was a self-evident duty thrusting itself upon her, and how to meet
+it with justice to herself, her husband, and her own conscience, was a
+problem. Thus dwelling upon this complex situation, she fell asleep.
+
+The first faint light of morning was stealing into the tent when Angie
+felt her companion stir. She had, exhausted as she doubtless was, fallen
+asleep almost the moment she lay down; but now she was evidently awake.
+
+Curious to note what she would do, Angie remained with closed eyes and
+motionless. From the corner of the tent where she had curled up the night
+before, the girl now cautiously crept toward the elder woman. Inch by
+inch, upon the bed of boughs, she moved nearer, until Angie, watching
+with half-open eyes, saw her head lowered, and felt two soft warm lips
+touch her hand.
+
+It was a trifle. It was no more than the act of a cat who rubs herself
+against her mistress or a dog who licks his master's hand, and yet it
+settled once for all that waif's fate and Angie's indecision.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+  Women are like grasshoppers--ye kin never tell which
+  way they're goin' to jump.--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Levi was starting a fire, Ray washing potatoes, and Martin, in his
+shirt-sleeves, using a towel vigorously near the canoes, when Angie and
+Chip emerged that morning; and now while breakfast is under way, a
+moment may be seized to explain who these people were and their mission
+in this wilderness.
+
+Many years before, in a distant village called Greenvale, two brothers,
+David and Amzi Curtis, had quarrelled over an unfortunate division of
+inherited land. The outcome was that Amzi, somewhat misanthropic over
+the death of his wife, and of peculiar make-up, deserted his home and
+little daughter Angeline, and vanished. For many years no one knew of
+his whereabouts, and he was given up as dead.
+
+In the meantime his child, cared for by a kindly woman known as Aunt
+Comfort, had grown to womanhood. About this time a boyhood sweetheart of
+Angeline's, named Martin Frisbie, who had been gathering wealth in a
+distant city, invited a former schoolmate, now the village doctor in
+Greenvale, to join him on an outing trip into the wilderness.
+
+Here something of the history of a notorious outlaw named McGuire
+became known to Martin, and more important than that, a queer old
+hermit was discovered, dwelling in solitude on the shore of a small
+lake. Who he was, and why this strange manner of life, Martin could not
+learn, and not until later, when he returned to Greenvale to woo his
+former sweetheart once more, did he even guess. Here, however, from a
+description furnished by a village nondescript,--a sort of Natty Bumpo
+and philosopher combined, known as Old Cy Walker, who had been Martin's
+youthful companion,--he was led to believe that the queer hermit and
+the long-missing Amzi were one and the same.
+
+Another trip into this wilderness with Old Cy, taken to identify the
+hermit, resulted in proving the correctness of the surmise. Then Martin
+set about making this misanthropic recluse more comfortable in all ways
+possible; and then, leaving Old Cy to keep him company, he returned to
+Greenvale and Angie.
+
+A marriage was the outcome of his return to his native village, and then,
+with his nephew, Ray, and long-tried guide, Levi, as helpers on this
+unique wedding trip, the hermit was visited.
+
+It was hoped that meeting his child once more would result in inducing
+him to abandon his wildwood existence and to return to civilization;
+and it did--partially. He seemed happy to meet his daughter again,
+consented to return with them when ready, and after a couple of weeks'
+sojourn here, the canoes were packed and all set out for civilization and
+Greenvale once more.
+
+But "home, sweet home," albeit it was, as in this case, a lonely
+log cabin in a vast wilderness, proved stronger than parental love or
+aught else; and sometime during first night's camp on the way out,
+this strange recluse stole away in his canoe and returned.
+
+"It's natur," Old Cy observed when morning came, "an' home is the
+hardest spot in the world to fergit. Amzi's lived in that old shack all
+'lone for twenty years. He's got wonted to it like a dog to his kennel,
+an' all the powers o' the univarse can't break up the feelin'."
+
+It seemed an indisputable, if disappointing, fact, and Martin led his
+party back to the hermit's home once more.
+
+Another plan was now considered by Martin--to buy the township, or at
+least a large tract enclosing this lake, build a more commodious log
+cabin for the use of himself and his wife, and spend a portion of each
+summer there. There were several reasons other than those of affection
+for this decision.
+
+This lake, perhaps half a mile in diameter, teemed with trout. The low
+mountains enclosing it were thickly covered with fine spruce and fir,
+groves of pine with some beech and birch grew in the valleys; deer,
+moose, and feathered game abounded here, and best of all, no vandal
+lumbermen ever encroached upon this region.
+
+It was, all considered, a veritable sportsman's paradise. Most likely
+a few thousand dollars would purchase it, and so, for these collective
+reasons, Martin decided to buy it.
+
+Old Cy was left to keep the hermit company; Martin, his wife, and Ray,
+with Levi, started for civilization to obtain needed supplies, and had
+been four days upon the way when this much-abused waif appeared on
+the scene. The party were journeying in two canoes, one manned by Ray,
+who had already learned to wield a paddle, which carried the tents and
+luggage; while the other was occupied by Martin, his wife, and Levi. The
+only available seat for the new arrival was in Ray's canoe, and when
+breakfast was disposed of and the voyagers ready to start, she was given
+a place therein.
+
+The river at this point was broad and of slow current, only two days'
+journey was needful to reach the settlement, and no cause for worry
+appeared--but Levi felt otherwise.
+
+"You'd best hug the futher shore," he observed to Ray quietly when
+the boy pushed off, "an' don't git out o' sight o' us." "I ain't
+sartin 'bout the outcome o' this matter," he said to Martin later. "I
+know that half-breed, Bolduc, and he's a bad 'un. From the gal's
+story he paid big money fer her. He don't know the meanin' o' law,
+and if he follers down the tote road, as I callate he will, 'n' ketches
+sight o' her, the first we'll know on't 'll be the crack o' a rifle.
+The wonder to me is he didn't ketch her 'fore she got to us. He could
+track her faster'n she could run. I don't want to 'larm you folks,
+but I shan't feel easy till we're out o' the woods."
+
+It wasn't reassuring.
+
+But no thought of this came to Ray, at least, and these two young
+people, yielding to the magic of the morning, the rippled river that
+bore them onward, the birds singing along the fir-clad banks, and all the
+exhilaration of the wilderness, soon reached the care-free converse
+of youthful friends.
+
+"I never had nothin' but work 'n' cussin'," Chip responded, when
+Ray asked if she never had any time she could call her own. "Tim
+thinked I couldn't get tired, I guess. He'd roust me up fust of all
+'n' larrup me if he caught me shirkin'. Once I had a little posey
+bed back o' the pig-pen. I fixed it after dark an' mornin's when I
+ketched the chance. He ketched me thar one mornin' a-weedin' it
+'n' knocked me sprawlin' an' then stomped all over the posies.
+That night I went out into the woods 'n' begged the spites to git him
+killed somehow. 'Nother time I forgot to put up the bars, an' the cows
+got into the taters. That night he tied me to a stump clus to the bars,
+an' left me thar all night. I used to be more skeered o' my dad 'n
+I was o' Tim, tho'. He'd look at me like he hated me, an' say,
+'Shut up,' if I said a word, an' I 'most believed he'd kill me,
+just fer nothin'. Once he said he'd take me out into the woods at
+night 'n' bait a bear trap with me if he heerd I didn't mind Tim. I
+told Old Tomah that, an' he said if he did, he'd shoot him; but Old
+Tomah wasn't round only winters. I hated dad so I'd 'a' shot him
+myself, I guess, if I cud 'a' got hold o' a gun when he wa'n't
+watchin'."
+
+"It's awful to have to feel that way toward your own father,"
+interrupted Ray, "for he was your father."
+
+"I s'pose 'twas," admitted Chip, candidly, "but I never felt
+much different. I've seen him slap mother when she was on her knees
+a-bawlin', an' the way he would cuss her was awful."
+
+"But you had some friendship from this old Indian," queried Ray, who
+began to realize what a pitiful life the girl had led; "he was good to
+you, wasn't he?"
+
+"He was, sartin," returned Chip, eagerly; "he used to tell me the
+spites 'ud fix dad 'fore long, so he'd never show up agin, 'n'
+when I got big 'nuff he'd sneak me off some night 'n' take me to
+the settlement, whar I could arn a livin'. Old Tomah was the only
+one who cared a cuss fer me. I used to bawl when he went away every
+spring, an' beg him to take me 'long 'n' help him camp 'n' cook.
+I'd 'a' done 'most anything fer Old Tomah. I didn't mind havin'
+to work all the time fer Tim. I didn't mind wearin' clothes made
+out o' old duds 'n' bein' cussed fer not workin' hard 'nuff.
+What I did mind was not havin' nobody who cared whether I lived or
+died, or said a good word to me. Sometimes I got so lonesome, I used
+to go out in the woods nights when 'twas moonlight 'n' beg the spites
+to help me. I used to think mother might be one on 'em 'n' she'd
+keer fer me. I think she was, an' 'twas her as kept me goin' till I
+found you folks's camp. I got awful skeered them nights I was runnin'
+away, an' when 'twas so dark I couldn't see no more, an' I heerd
+wildcats yowlin', I'd git on my knees 'n' beg mother to keep 'em
+away. I think she did, an' allus shall."
+
+Much more in connection with the wild, harsh life Chip had led for
+eight years was now told by her. Old Tomah's superstition and belief
+in hobgoblins were enlarged upon. Life at Tim's Place, with all its
+filth, brutality, and nearly animal existence, was described in full;
+for Chip's tongue, once loosened, ran on and on, while Ray, spellbound
+by this description, was scarce conscious he was wielding a paddle.
+Never before had he heard such a tale, so unusual and so pathetic.
+Naturally of chivalrous and manly nature, it appealed to him as naught
+else could. Then the girl herself, with her big, pleading eyes, her
+queer belief in those woodsy, spectral forms she called spites, and her
+free and easy confidence in him, and his sympathy also, surprised Ray.
+Her speech was coarse and crude--the vernacular of Tim's Place. Now and
+then a profane word crept in; yet it was absolute truth, and forceful
+from its very simplicity.
+
+But another influence, more potent than her wrongs, was now appealing
+to Chip--her sense of joy at her rescue, and with it a positive faith
+that the spites had been the means of her escape.
+
+"I know they did it," she said time and again, "an' I know mother was
+one on 'em. I wished I cud do suthin' to show 'em how thankful I am
+'n' how happy I am now." And Ray, astonished that so keen-witted and
+courageous a girl should have such a fantastic belief, made no comment.
+
+A more serious subject was under discussion in the other canoe, meantime,
+as to the future disposition of Chip herself.
+
+"I feel it my duty to take care of her," Angie said, after relating
+her conversation with Chip and that morning's incident. "She is a
+homeless, outcast waif, needing education and everything else to
+Christianize her. We must bring her to the settlement, but to turn
+her adrift might mean leaving her to a life of vice, even if she
+escapes her brutal father and this worse half-breed. Then, again, I am
+not sure that her parentage will bear inspection. She has told me
+something about her earlier life, and about her mother, who evidently
+loved her. One course only seems plain to me,--to take care of and
+educate this unfortunate."
+
+"I am willing, my dear," responded Martin, who, like all new husbands,
+was ready to concede anything, "only I suggest that you go a little
+slow. You can't tell yet what this girl will develop into. She has had
+the worst possible parentage, without doubt. Her life at Tim's Place,
+and contact with lumbermen or worse, has been no benefit. She is grossly
+ignorant, and may be ill-tempered, and once given to understand that
+you have practically adopted her, you can't--or won't--have the heart
+to turn her off. Now we are to return to the lake and remain a month, as
+you know, and in the meantime, what will you do with this girl?"
+
+This was reducing Angie's philanthropic impulses to a focus, as it were,
+and it set her thinking. Something more of this discussion followed,
+and finally Angie announced her decision.
+
+"We must take the girl back with us," she said, "and begin her
+reformation at the camp. If she shows any aptitude and willingness to
+obey, we will take her to Greenvale. If not, you must arrange to get
+her into some institution."
+
+"And suppose the half-breed finds where she is, what then?" inquired
+Martin.
+
+"What do you say, Levi?" he added, turning to his guide, "you know
+this fellow; what will he be apt to do?"
+
+"I s'pose you know what a panther'll do, robbed of her cub," Levi
+answered, "an' how a bull moose acts in runnin' time, mebbe. Wal,
+this Pete is worse'n both on 'em biled into one, I callate. If you're
+goin' ter take the gal back, you've got to keep her shady, or some day
+you'll find her missin'. Besides, Pete, ez I told ye, don't know the
+meanin' o' law and is handy with a gun."
+
+But Martin did not quite share Levi's fears, and so Angie's decision
+was agreed to. Levi's advice to "keep shady" was accepted, however,
+and all through that summer's somewhat thrilling experiences it was the
+rule of conduct.
+
+When noon came, Levi led the way into a lagoon; in a secluded spot at its
+head dinner was cooked, and when the sun was well down and a tributary
+stream was reached, he turned into it, and halted not for the night camp
+until a full half-mile separated them from the river.
+
+A certain vague sense of impending danger began to impress both Martin
+and his wife, and the woods seemed to hold a one-eyed, malicious villain
+who might appear at any moment. A danger which we know actually exists,
+we can avoid or meet squarely; but one merely imaginary becomes irksome
+and really more annoying.
+
+No hint of this was dropped by the three older ones, and when the tents
+were pitched, long before twilight, and Martin and Ray had captured a
+goodly string of trout and the camp-fire was alight, this wildwood life
+seemed absolutely perfect, to the young folks at least.
+
+Chip also showed one of the best features of her training. She wanted to
+help everybody and do everything, and Levi, who always did the cooking,
+was importuned to let her help. Strong as a young Amazon, she fetched
+and carried like a man, and the one thing that gladdened her most was
+permission to work.
+
+When supper was over came the lounging beside the cheerful fire, and as
+the shadows thickened, forth came Ray's banjo once more, and with it the
+light of admiration in Chip's eyes.
+
+All that day he had been her charming companion; his open, manly face,
+his bright brown eyes, had been ever before her. His well-bred ways, so
+unlike all the men at Tim's Place, had impressed her as those of a youth
+of eighteen will a maid of sixteen; and now, with his voice appealing
+to the best in her, he seemed like Pan of old, once more wooing a nymph
+with his pipes.
+
+No knowledge of this was hers, no consciousness of why she was happy came
+to her. She knew what spites were; but the god Pan and Apollo with his
+harp were unknown forms.
+
+Neither did she realize that born in her soul that day, on the broad
+shining river, was a magic impulse woven out of heart throbs, and
+destined to mete out to her more sorrow than all else in her life
+combined.
+
+She had entered the wondrous vale of love whose paths are flower-strewn,
+whose shores are rippled with laughter, and whose borders, alas! are ever
+hid in the midst of tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+  "The wilderness allus seems full o' spectres 'n' creepin'
+  crawlin' panthers. Sometimes I think it's God, an' then
+  agin, the devil."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Tim's Place, this refuge in the wilderness, cleared and colonized by
+Tim Connor, was neither better nor worse than such pioneer openings in
+Nature's domain are apt to be. Tim, a hardy Irishman of sod-hovel and
+potato-diet ancestors, had been blacksmith for a lumber camp on this
+broad river and at its junction with a tributary called the Fox Hole
+years before Chip was born.
+
+When all the adjacent lumber was cut and sent down this river, the camp
+was abandoned, and then Tim saw his opening. With his precious winter's
+wages he purchased a large tract of this now worthless land, induced a
+robust Bridget, his brother Mike, and his consort to join fortunes with
+him, brought in cows, horses, pigs, and poultry, and began farming with
+the lumber camp as domicile.
+
+Another log cabin was soon added, the first crop of potatoes sold
+readily to other lumbermen farther in the wilderness, the pigs in a
+sty adjacent to his own throve, the poultry multiplied, children came,
+and the red-shirted men coming into the wilderness or going out found
+Tim's Place convenient.
+
+With this added business came an enlargement in Tim's ideas, the
+outcome of which was a framed house containing a kitchen and dining room
+and half a dozen others of closet-like proportions, furnished with
+box-on-legs beds. It was not a pretentious hostelry. Paint, shutters,
+and carpets were absent, benches served for chairs, the only mirror in
+it was eight by twelve inches, and used in common by Bridget and Mary.
+The toilet conveniences consisted of a wash-basin in the kitchen sink and
+a "last year's" towel, used semi-occasionally. A long table bare of
+cloth and set with tinware served in the dining room, warmed in winter by
+a round sheet-iron stove; above it usually hung an array of socks and
+mittens, and a capacious cook stove half filled the kitchen. It was the
+crudest possible backwoods abode, and yet compared to the log cabin
+first occupied by Tim, it was a palace, and he was proud of it.
+
+In autumn swarms of lumbermen halted there, content to sleep on the floor
+if need be. In spring they came again, log-driving down stream; later
+a few sportsmen occasionally tried it, and all fared alike.
+
+There was no sentiment about Tim. If the citified fishermen objected to
+what they found, "Be gob, you kin kape away," he readily told them. A
+quarter for each meal, or a night's lodging, was the price, whether a
+bed or the floor was provided, and from early spring until frost came,
+all the occupants went barefoot.
+
+When snow had made the sixty miles of log road to the nearest settlement
+passable, Tim invariably journeyed hither with horse and bob-sled for
+clothing and supplies.
+
+No knowledge or news from the world reached here, unless brought by
+chance visitors. Sundays were an unknown factor, the work of clearing
+land and potato-raising became a continuous performance from spring
+until autumn; and the change of seasons, the rise and fall of the river,
+were the only measure of time.
+
+An addition to Tim's Place, other than babies and pigs, came one fall in
+an old Indian who, by ample presents of game, soon won Tim's good-will
+and help in the erection of a log wigwam; but this relic of a vanishing
+race--reckoned by Tim as partially insane--remained there only winters,
+and when spring returned, disappeared into the wilderness.
+
+There were also two other occasional visitors both meriting description.
+First, a beetle-browed, keen-eyed, red-haired man garbed as a hunter,
+whose speech disclosed something of the Scotch dialect, and who,
+presenting Tim with a deer and two bottles of whiskey as a peace-offering
+on his first arrival, soon obtained a welcome. He told a plausible
+tale of having been pursued for years by enemies seeking his life;
+how he had been robbed and driven away from the settlements; and how
+two of these enemies had even followed him into the woods. He had
+been shot at by them, had killed one in self-defence, a price had been
+set upon his capture, dead or alive, and, all in all, he was a sorely
+abused man.
+
+How much of this lurid and fantastic tale Tim believed, is not pertinent
+to this narrative. The stranger, calling himself McGuire, was evidently
+a good fellow, since he brought good whiskey, and Tim made him welcome.
+
+The facts as to McGuire, however, were somewhat at variance with his
+assertions. He had originally been a dive-keeper in a focal city for
+the lumbering interests of this wilderness, had entertained swarms of
+log-drivers just paid off and anxious to spend money, and when the law
+interfered, he retreated to a smaller town.
+
+In the interval, strange to say, his moral nature--or rather
+immoral--suffered a brief relapse, during which he persuaded an
+excellent if confiding young woman to share his name and infamy.
+
+His second business venture came to grief, however, and his wife deserted
+him and met with a fatal accident a few years after. In the meantime
+he had kept busy, exercising his peculiar talents and tastes in an
+individual manner, and evading officers, and his ways of money-getting
+were peculiar and diverse.
+
+The Chinese Exclusion Act had just become operative, and the admission
+of Celestials into the land of the free, and of good wages, became a
+valuable matter. McGuire conceived the brilliant, if grewsome, idea of
+passing "Chinks" over the border line concealed in coffins. It worked
+admirably, and with accomplices on both sides to obtain certificates
+and permits, and take charge of the "corpses," a few dozen almond-eyed
+immigrants at two hundred dollars each obtained admission.
+
+In time, this budding industry met an official quietus, and McGuire,
+with several warrants out against him, took to the woods. He still
+continued business, however, in various ways. He smuggled liquor over
+the border by canoe loads, hiding it at convenient points, to exchange
+for log-drivers' wages. He killed game out of season, and dynamited
+trout and salmon on spawning beds for the same purpose; and, handy
+with cards, did not disdain their use in lumbering camps.
+
+In all and through all his various ways of money-getting, one purpose
+had governed him--that of money-saving. Trusting no one, as he had reason
+to feel no one trusted him, he continually emulated the squirrels and
+hid his savings in the woods. A trapper and hunter by instinct, as well
+as thief, dive-keeper, smuggler, poacher, and gambler, he had in his
+wanderings discovered a cave in a slate ledge upon the shores of a small
+lake far into the wilderness. It was while trapping here that he found
+this by the aid of a fox which, while dragging a trap, became caught
+and held in a crevasse while attempting to enter it.
+
+The fox thus secured, McGuire made further investigation, and by removing
+a loose slab of slate, he was enabled to enter a roomy cavern, or rather
+two small ones partially separated by slate walls. A little light
+entered the larger one, through a seam crossing it lengthwise. They were
+free from moisture at this time--early autumn--and so secluded was the
+spot that McGuire decided at once to use this place as a hiding-spot
+for his money. The entrance could be kept concealed, its location served
+his purpose, and, fox-like himself, he decided to occupy what he
+would never have found without the aid of a fox, believing no one
+else would find it. It could also be used as a domicile for himself as
+well. A fireplace of slate could be built in it, an escape for smoke
+might be formed through the crack, if enlarged, and so this cave's
+possibilities increased.
+
+There were still several other advantages. This lake was surrounded by
+precipitous mountains; no lumbermen, even, were likely to operate there;
+the stream flowing out of it soon crossed the border line, finding escape
+into the St. Lawrence valley at a point some twenty miles distant; a
+short carry enabled him to reach the Fox Hole which flowed by Tim's
+Place, and so this served as an excellent whip road in case of pursuit.
+
+His transient asylum at Tim's Place also served as a vantage point in
+another way.
+
+Here all who entered this portion of the wilderness invariably
+halted,--officers and wardens as well,--and as by this time McGuire
+had become an outlaw murderer, with a reward offered for his capture,
+this outpost was of double advantage.
+
+Caution was a strong point in his make-up, yet he was daring as well.
+He still visited the settlements occasionally, to sell furs and obtain
+ammunition and whiskey; and when he, as ill luck would have it, happened
+there at the time his child was left motherless, some malign impulse led
+him to take her to Tim's Place and leave her in servitude there.
+
+There was also another chance caller at this outpost--a half-breed
+trapper and hunter named Bolduc, who had established himself in a
+lone cabin on the Fox Hole, some ten miles up from Tim's Place. He
+was a repulsive minor edition of McGuire. A wildcat, with laudable
+intentions, had essayed putting an end to his career, and succeeded to
+the extent of one eye and some blood. He had been the accomplice and
+partner of McGuire in many a whiskey-smuggling trip. He also dealt in
+this pernicious, but valuable, fluid, was a poacher ever ready to
+pot-hunt for a lumbering camp in winter, or find a moose yard on
+snow-shoes, after slaughtering the helpless inmates of which, he
+would sell them to the busy wood-choppers.
+
+He, too, could be classed as brigand of the wilderness, and while no
+warrants or charges against him were rife, he felt it wise to avoid
+meeting minions of the law. Tim's Place was a convenient point to
+obtain information as to location of new lumber camps or possible visits
+of officers. An occasional bottle of whiskey secured Tim's favor.
+The evenings and meals there impressed Pete with the advantages of
+owning a woman's services, and as Chip matured in domestic and other
+possibilities, a desire to possess her began to increase his visits.
+
+His wooing met no response, however, and when persisted in always awoke
+on her part the same instinct once displayed toward him by a wildcat.
+
+Then recourse to her father's greed for money was taken, with results as
+described.
+
+The only thing that saved poor Chip from pursuit and capture, however,
+was his wholesome fear of her finger-nails, and the belief that it was
+best to let her father earn the balance of her price and fetch her, as
+agreed. Acting upon this theory, Pete had departed from Tim's Place at
+dawn, to await her arrival at his cabin, quite oblivious of the fact that
+his bird had flown.
+
+All that long day he waited in great expectancy. Toward evening he
+returned to Tim's Place to learn that Chip had not been seen since
+the previous night; that her father had also vanished without comment.
+That he was a party to this trick and deception, and, after securing his
+three hundred dollars, had taken her away, was Pete's conclusion,
+and he vowed a murderous revenge. He returned to his cabin, little
+realizing that twenty miles away poor Chip, faint with hunger and the
+terror of a vast wilderness, was fighting her way through bush, bramble,
+and swamp in a mad attempt to escape.
+
+Neither did Tim, while regretting the loss of his slave, know or care
+that one of his occasional visitors was now a mortal enemy of the other,
+and that a tragedy, dark and grewsome, would be its outcome.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+  "The size o' a toad is allus reg'lated by the size o' the
+  puddle."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+A week was spent by Martin and his party at the settlement, during which
+he acquired the title to township forty-four, range ten, which included
+the little lake near the hermit's hut, and made a foursquare-mile tract
+about it.
+
+Chip, thanks to Angie, secured a simple outfit of apparel and--surprising
+fact--evinced excellent taste in its selection, thereby proving that
+eight years of isolation and a gunny-sack and red-shirt garb had not
+obliterated the deepest instinct of woman.
+
+To Levi, Martin's woodwise helper, was left the selection of fittings
+for the new camp. A couple of husky Canucks were engaged to bring them in
+in a bateau, and then the party started on its return.
+
+Only one incident of importance occurred during the wait at this
+village known as Grindstone. Angie and Chip had just left the only
+store there, in front of which a group of log-drivers had congregated,
+when Angie, glancing back, saw that one of the group was following
+them. She quickened her pace, and so did he, until just as they turned
+into a side street, he passed them, halted, and turned about.
+
+"Wal, I'm damned if 'tain't Chip, an' dressed like a leddy," he
+exclaimed, as they drew near.
+
+"Hullo, Chip," he added, as they passed, "when did you strike luck?"
+
+Chip made no response and he muttered again, "Wal, I'm damned, jest
+like a leddy!"
+
+It was annoying, especially to Angie, and neither of the two realized
+how soon this blunt log-driver's discovery would reach Tim's Place.
+
+And now, leaving the bateau to follow, the party started once more on
+their journey into the wilderness. No sight or sign of pursuit from the
+half-breed had been thus far observed. A few idle lumbermen in the
+village--the only visible connection between the vast forest and a
+busy world--were little thought of, as their canoes crept slowly up
+the narrowing river and gave no hint of interference from this low
+brute to any one except Levi.
+
+He, however, seldom speaking, but ever acting, kept watch and ward
+continually. At every bend of the stream his eyes were alert to catch
+the first sight of a down-coming canoe in time to conceal Chip, as
+he decided must be done. When night camps were made, a site at the
+head of the lagoon or up some tributary stream was selected, and while
+not even hinting his reason for this, he felt it wise. As they drew
+near to Tim's Place, it began to occur to Martin that Chip's presence
+had best be concealed until that point was passed. He also desired
+to learn the situation there. He had always halted at this clearing in
+all his up-river journeys, so far, usually to buy pork and potatoes, and
+he now intended to do so again. He also felt it imperative to conceal
+Chip in Ray's canoe, before they reached Tim's Place, and let Ray
+paddle slowly on while the halt was made. But Levi dissented.
+
+"'Tain't best," he said, "to let Tim know there's two canoes of
+us and one not stoppin'. It'll make him s'picious o' suthin, 'n'
+what he 'spects, Pete'll find out. I callate we'd best pass thar in
+the night, leave the wimmen above, 'n' you 'n' I go back 'n' git
+what we want."
+
+"But what about the Canucks following us with the bateau?" returned
+Martin. "They'll tell who is with us, won't they?"
+
+"They didn't see us start," answered Levi, "'n' can't swear wimmen
+came. We'll say we're alone, 'n' bein' so'll make it plausible,
+'n' you might say we're goin' to build a camp 'n' 'nother season
+fetch our wimmen in."
+
+"But how about our men, on the return trip, after finding we have women
+at the camp?" rejoined Martin. "They will be sure to tell all they know
+on the way back."
+
+"We've got to keep the wimmen shady, an' fool 'em," answered Levi.
+And so his plan was adopted.
+
+It was in the early hours of morning when the two canoes crept
+noiselessly past Tim's Place. The stars barely outlined the river's
+course, the frame dwelling, log cabin, and stump-dotted slope back of
+them. All the untidiness existent about this dwelling was hid in
+darkness, and only the faint sounds and odors betrayed these conditions.
+But every eye and ear in the two canoes was alert, paddles were dipped
+without sound, and Chip's heart was beating so loudly that it seemed
+to her Tim and all his family must be awakened. Her recent escape
+from this spot and all the reasons forcing it, the fear that both her
+father and the half-breed might even now be there, added dread; and
+not until a bend hid even the shadowy view of this plague spot did she
+breathe easier.
+
+"I was nigh skeered to death," she whispered to Ray when safety seemed
+assured, "an' if ever Pete finds I'm up whar the folks is goin',
+I'm a goner."
+
+"Oh, we'll take care of you," returned that boy, with the boundless
+confidence of youth; "my uncle can shoot as well as any one, and then
+Old Cy is up at the camp, and he's a wonder with a rifle. Why, I've
+seen him hit a crow a half-mile off!"
+
+Smoke was ascending from the chimney, and the rising sun was just visible
+when Martin and Levi returned to Tim's. Mike was out in an enclosure,
+milking; Tim was back of the house, preparing the pigs' breakfast. The
+pigs were squealing, and a group of unwashed children were watching
+operations, when Martin appeared. A pleasant "Good morning" from him
+and a gruff one from Tim was the introduction, and then that stolid
+pioneer started for the sty. Not even the unusual event of a caller
+could hinder him from the one duty he most enjoyed,--the care of his
+beloved swine.
+
+"You have some nice thrifty pigs," began Martin, when the pen was
+reached, desiring to placate Tim.
+
+"They are thot," he returned.
+
+"My guide and I are on our way into the woods, to build a camp,"
+continued Martin, anxious to have his errand over with, "and we halted
+to buy a few potatoes of you and some pork. I have a couple of men
+following with a bateau," he continued, after pausing for a reply
+which did not come; "they will be along in a day or two with most of
+our supplies; but I felt sure I could get some extra good pork of you
+and some choice potatoes."
+
+"You kin thot same," replied Tim, his demeanor obviously softening
+under this flattery, and so business relations were established.
+
+Martin had intended asking some cautious question regarding Chip or her
+father; but Tim's surly face, his unresponsive manner, and a mistrust
+of its wisdom prevented. He was blunt of speech, almost to the verge of
+insolence, and the arrival of Martin with all his polite words evoked
+not a vestige of welcome; and yet back of those keen gray eyes of his a
+deal of cunning might lurk, thought Martin.
+
+Two slovenly women peered out of back door and window while the interview
+was in progress. Mike came and looked on in silence; two of the
+oldest children were down by the canoe where Levi waited; the rest,
+open-eyed and astonished, seemed likely to be trodden on by some one
+each moment. When the stores were secured and paid for, and Martin
+had pushed off with Levi, he realized something of the life Chip must
+have led there.
+
+He had intended not only to obtain potatoes, but some information of
+value. He obtained the goods, paying a thrifty price, also a good bit
+of cold shoulder, and that was all.
+
+But Levi, shrewd woodsman that he was, fared better.
+
+"I larned Chip's gone off with old McGuire," he asserted with a quiet
+smile when they were well away, "an' that Pete's swearin' murder agin
+him."
+
+"And how?" responded Martin, in astonishment. "I felt that silence
+was golden with that surly chap, and didn't ask a question."
+
+"I'm glad," rejoined Levi. "I wanted to tell you not to, and I've
+larned all we want. Children are easy to pump, an' I did it 'thout
+wakin' a hint o' 'spicion. Tim's folks all believe Chip's gone
+with her dad. Pete thinks so, an' is watchin' for him with a gun, I
+'spect, an' if so, the sooner they meet, the better."
+
+It was gratifying news to Martin, and when the other canoe was reached,
+the two again pushed on, with Martin, at least, feeling that the ways
+of Fate might prove acceptable.
+
+Three days more were consumed in reaching the lake now owned by him, for
+the river was low, carries had to be made around two rapids, and when at
+last the sequestered, forest-bordered sheet of water was being crossed,
+Martin wished some titanic hand might raise an impassable barrier about
+his possessions.
+
+Old Cy's joy at their return was almost hilarious. To a man long past
+the spasmodic exuberance of youth, loving nature and the wild as few do,
+the six months here with the misanthropic old hermit, then a month of
+more cheerful companionship, followed by the departure of Martin and
+Angie, made this forest home-coming doubly welcome.
+
+But Chip's appearance, and the somewhat thrilling episode of her escape
+from Tim's Place and her rescue, astonished him. Like all old men
+who are childless, a young girl and her troubles touched a responsive
+chord in his heart, and on the instant Chip's unfortunate condition
+found sympathy. Her bluntly told story, with all its details, held him
+spellbound. He laughed over her description of spites, and when she
+seemed hurt at this seeming levity, he assured her that spites were a
+reality in the woods--he had seen hundreds of them. It was not long ere
+he had won her confidence and good-will, as he had Ray's, and then he
+took Martin aside.
+
+"That gal's chaser's bin here 'bout a week ago," he said, "an' the
+worst-lookin' cuss I ever seen. I know from his description 'twas
+him. He kept quizzin' me ez to how long we'd been here, if I knew
+McGuire, or had seen him lately, until I got sorter riled 'n' began
+to string him. I told him finally that I'd been foolin' all 'long;
+that McGuire was a friend o' mine; that he'd been here a day or two
+afore, borrowed some money 'n' lit out fer Canada, knowin' there
+was a bad man arter him. Then this one-eyed gazoo got mad, real mad,
+'n' said things, an' then he cleared out."
+
+When Martin explained the situation, as he now did, Old Cy chuckled.
+
+"'Tain't often one shoots in the dark 'n' makes a bull's eye," he
+said.
+
+"I think you and I had better keep mum about this half-breed's call,"
+Martin added quietly, "and if Angie mentions it, you needn't say that
+you know who he was. It will only make my wife and the girl nervous."
+
+The two tents were now pitched at the head of a cove, some rods away from
+the hermit's hut, and well out of sight from the landing, and to these
+both Angie and Chip were assured they must flee as soon as the expected
+bateau entered the lake, and remain secluded until it had departed.
+
+In a way, it was a ticklish situation. All knowledge that this waif
+was with Martin's party must be kept from Tim's Place and this
+half-breed, or she wouldn't be safe an hour; and until the Canucks
+had come and gone, she must be kept hidden. Another and quite a serious
+annoyance to Martin was the fact that he had counted on these two men
+as helpers in cutting and hauling logs for this new camp. Only man-power
+was available, and to move logs a foot in diameter and twenty feet
+long, in midsummer, was no easy task; but Levi, more experienced in
+camp-building, made light of it.
+
+"We'll cut the logs we need, clus to the lake," he said, "float 'em
+'round, 'n' roll 'em up on skids. It's easy 'nough, 'n' we don't
+need them Canuckers round a minit."
+
+It was four days of keen suspense to Chip before they appeared. Neither
+she nor Angie left the closed tent while they remained over night, or
+until they had been gone many hours, and then every one felt easier.
+
+The ringing sound of axes now began to echo over the rippled lake, logs
+were towed across with canoes, a cellar under the new cabin site was
+excavated, and home-building in the wilderness went merrily on.
+
+While the men worked, Angie and Chip were not idle. Not only did they
+have meals to prepare over a rude outdoor fireplace, but they gathered
+grass and moss for beds, wove a hammock and rustic chair seats out of
+sedge grass, and countless other useful aids.
+
+Chip was especially helpful and more grateful than a dog for any and all
+consideration. Not a step that she could take or a bit of work that she
+could do was left to Angie; her interest and do-all-she-could desire
+never flagged, and from early morn until the supper dishes were washed
+and wiped, Chip was busy.
+
+But Martin, and especially Levi, had other causes for worry than those
+which camp-building entailed. The fact that this "Pernicious Pete," as
+Angie had once called him, would soon learn of their presence here,
+and hating all law-abiding people, as such forest brigands always do,
+would naturally seek to injure them, was one cause. Then, there were
+so many ways by which he could do harm. A fire started at one corner
+of the hut at midnight, the same Indian-like malice applied to their
+two tents, the stealing of their canoes or the gashing of them with a
+hunting-knife, and countless other methods of venting spite, presented
+themselves. In a way, they were helpless against such a night-prowling
+enemy. Over one hundred miles separated them from civilization and all
+assistance; an impassable wilderness lay between. The stream and their
+canoes were the only means of egress. These valuable craft were left
+out of sight and sound each night, on the lake shore, and so their
+vulnerability on all sides was manifest.
+
+Then, Chip's presence was an added danger. If once this brute found that
+she was here, there was no limit to what he would do to secure her and
+take revenge. They had smuggled her past Tim's Place, but concealment
+here was impossible; if ever this half-breed returned, she would be
+discovered, and then what?
+
+And so by day, while Martin and Levi were busy with hut-building, or
+beside the evening camp-fire when Ray picked his banjo and Chip watched
+him with admiring glances, these two guardians had eyes and ears ever
+alert for this expected enemy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+  "It allus makes me coltish to see two young folks a-weavin'
+  the thread o' affection."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+There were three people at Birch Camp,--as Angie had christened
+it,--namely, herself, Ray, and Chip, who did not share Martin's
+suspicion of danger. A firm belief that a woman's aid in such a
+complication was of no value, coupled with a desire to save her
+anxiety, had kept his lips closed as to the situation.
+
+Life here at all hours soon settled itself into a certain daily
+routine of work, amusement, and, on Chip's part, of study. True to
+her philanthropic sense of duty toward this waif, Angie had at once
+set about her much-needed education. A reading and spelling book
+suitable for a child of eight had been secured at the settlement, and
+now "lessons" occupied a few hours of each day.
+
+It was only a beginning, of course, and yet with constant reminders
+as to pronunciation, this was all that Angie could do. The idioms of
+Tim's Place, with all its profanity, still adhered to Chip's speech.
+This latter, especially, would now and then crop out in spite of all
+admonitions; and so Angie found that her pupil made slow progress.
+
+There was also another reason for this. Chip was afraid of her, and oft
+reproved for her lapses in speech, soon ceased all unnecessary talk when
+with Angie.
+
+But with Ray it was different. He was near her own age, the companionship
+of youth was theirs, and with him Chip's speech was ready enough. This,
+of course, answered all the purposes of benefit by assimilation, and
+so Angie was well satisfied that they should be together. Beyond that
+she had no thought that love might accrue from this association.
+
+Chip, while fair of face and form, and at a sentimental age, was so crude
+of speech, so grossly ignorant, and so allied to the ways and manners of
+Tim's Place, that, according to Angie's reasoning, Ray's feelings
+were safe enough. He was well bred and refined, a happy, natural boy now
+verging upon manhood. In Greenvale he had never shown much interest in
+girls' society, and while he now showed a playmate enjoyment of Chip's
+company, that was all that was likely to happen.
+
+But the winged god wots not of speech or manners. A youth of eighteen and
+a maid of sixteen are the same the world over, and so out of sight of
+Angie, and unsuspected by her, the by-play of heart-interest went on.
+
+And what a glorious golden summer opportunity these two had!
+
+Back of the camp and tending northwest to southeast was a low ridge of
+outcropping slate, bare in spots--a hog-back, in wilderness phrase.
+Beyond this lay a mile-long "blow-down," where a tornado had levelled
+the tall timber. A fire, sweeping this when dry, left a criss-cross
+confusion of charred logs, blueberry bushes had followed fast, and now
+those luscious berries were ripening in limitless profusion. Every fair
+day Ray and Chip came here to pick, to eat, to hear the birds sing, to
+gather flowers and be happy.
+
+They watched the rippled lake with now and then a deer upon its shores,
+from this ridge; they climbed up or down it, hand in hand; they fished in
+the lake or canoed about it, time and again; and many a summer evening,
+when the moon served, Chip handled the paddle, while Ray picked his
+banjo and sang his darky songs all around this placid sheet of water.
+
+And what a wondrous charm this combination of moonlight on the lake and
+love songs softened and made tender by the still water held for Chip! As
+those melodies had done on that first evening beside the camp-fire, so
+now they filled her soul with a strange, new-born, and wonderful sense of
+joy and gladness.
+
+The black forest enclosing them now was sombre and silent. Spites still
+lurked in its depths and doubtless were watching; but a protector was
+near, his arm was strong; back at the landing were kind friends, and the
+undulating path of silvered light, the round, smiling orb above, the
+twinkling stars, and this matchless music became a new wonder-world to
+her.
+
+Her eyes glistened and grew tender with pathos. She had no more idea than
+a child why she was happy. Each day sped by on wings of wind, each hour,
+with her one best companion, the most joyful, and so, day by day, poor
+Chip learned the sad lesson of loving.
+
+But never a word or hint of this fell from her lips. Ray was so far above
+her and such a young hero, that she, a homeless outcast, tainted by the
+filth and service of Tim's Place, could only look to him as she did
+to the moon.
+
+They laughed and exchanged histories. Ofttimes he reproved her speech.
+They fished, picked berries, and worked together like two big children,
+and only her wistful eyes told the other why they were wistful.
+
+Martin, busy at camp-building and watching ever for an enemy's coming,
+saw it not. Angie was as obtuse; the old hermit, misanthropic and verging
+into dotage, was certainly oblivious, and so no ripples of interest
+disturbed these workers.
+
+Such conditions were as sunshine to flowers in aiding the two young
+lovers, so this forest idyl matured rapidly. Chip, perhaps more
+imaginative than Ray, since most of her education had been the weird
+superstition of Old Tomah, felt most of its emotional force, though
+unconscious of the reason.
+
+"I dunno why I feel so upset all the time lately," she said one
+afternoon to Ray as, returning from the berry field, they halted on
+top of the ridge to scan the lake below. "Some o' the time I feel so
+happy I want to sing, 'n' then I feel jes' t'other way, 'n'
+like cryin'. When the good spell is on, everything looks so purty,
+'n' when I come on to a bunch o' posies, then I feel I must go right
+down on my knees 'n' kiss 'em. When I was at Tim's Place, I never
+thought about anything 'cept to get my work done 'n' keep from
+gettin' cussed 'n' licked. I was scart, too, most o' the time,
+'n' kept feelin' suthin awful was goin' to happen to me. Now that's
+'most gone, but I feel a heartache in place on't. I allus hev a spell
+o' feelin' so every mornin' when I wake up 'n' hear the birds
+singin'. They 'fect me so that I'm near cryin' 'fore I git up. You
+'n' Mis' Frisbie 'n' everybody's been so good to me, I guess it's
+made me silly. Then thar's 'nother thing worries me, an' that's
+goin' to the settlement whar you folks is from. I feel I kin sorter earn
+my keepin' here, but I s'pose I can't thar, 'n' that bothers me.
+If only you 'n' all the rest was goin' to stay here all the time
+'n' I could work some, same as I do now, an' be with you odd spells
+'n' evenin's, I'd be so happy. It 'ud be jest like the spot Old
+Tomah said we're goin' to when we die. He used to tell how 'twas
+summer thar all the time, with game plenty, berries ripe, flowers
+growin', too, all the year 'round, 'n' birds singin'. He believed
+thar was two places somewhar: one for white folks and one fer Injuns;
+that when we died we turned into spites, stayed 'round till we got
+revenge for everything bad done us, or got a chance to pay up what good
+we owed for."
+
+"I don't know where we go to when we quit this world, and neither
+does anybody else, I believe," Ray answered philosophically, and
+scarce understanding Chip's mood. "I believe, as Old Cy does, that
+the time to be happy is when we are young and can be; that when we
+are ready to leave this world is time enough for another one. As to your
+worrying about your going to Greenvale," he added confidently, and
+encircling Chip's waist with one arm, "why, you've got me to look
+out for you, and then Angie won't begrudge you your keep, so don't
+think about that." And then this young optimist, quite content with
+what the gods had provided in this maid of sweet lip and appealing eye,
+assured her she had everything to make her happy, including himself for
+companion; that all her moody spells were merely memories of Tim's
+Place, best forgotten, and much more of equally tender and silly import.
+
+Not for one instant did he realize the growing independence and
+self-reliance of this wilderness waif, or how the first feeling that
+she was a burden upon these kind people would chafe and vex her defiant
+nature, until she would scorn even love, to escape it.
+
+Just now the tender impulse of first love was all Ray felt or
+considered. This girl of sweet sixteen and utter confidence in him was
+so enthralling in spite of her crude speech and lack of education, her
+kisses were so much his to take whenever chance offered, and himself
+such a young hero in her sight, that he thought of naught else.
+
+In this, or at least so far as his reasoning went, they were like two
+grown-up children entering a new world--the enchanted garden of love. Or
+like two souls merged into one in impulse, yet in no wise conscious why
+or for what all-wise purpose.
+
+For them alone the sun shone, birds sang, leaves rustled, flowers
+bloomed, and the blue lake rippled. For them alone was all this charming
+chance given, with all that made it entrancing. For them alone was life,
+love, and lips that met in ecstasy.
+
+Oh, wondrous beatitude! Oh, heaven-born joy! Oh, divine illusion that
+builds the world anew, and building thus, believes its secret safe!
+
+But Old Cy, wise old observer of all things human, from the natural
+attraction of two children to the philosophy of content, saw and
+understood.
+
+Not for worlds would he hint this to Angie or Martin. Full well he knew
+how soon this "weavin' o' the threads o' affection," would be
+frowned upon by them; but he loved children as few men do.
+
+This summer-day budding of romance would end in a few weeks, these two
+were happy now--let them remain so, and perhaps in Chip's case it might
+prove the one best incentive to her own improvement.
+
+And now as he watched them day by day, came another feeling. Homeless all
+his life so far, and for many years a wanderer, these two had awakened
+the home-building impulse in his. He could not have a home himself, he
+could only help them to one in the future, and to that end and purpose
+he now bent his thought.
+
+The weeks there with Ray had opened Old Cy's heart to him. Even sooner,
+and with greater force, had Chip's helpless condition made the same
+appeal, and as he watched her wistful eyes and willing ways, in spite
+of her speech and in spite of her origin, he saw in her the making of a
+good wife and mother. Her heritage, as he now guessed, was of the worst,
+her education was yet to be obtained; but for all that, a girl--no, a
+child--of sixteen who would dare sixty miles of wilderness alone to save
+herself from a shameful fate, was of the metal and fibre to win, and
+more than that, deserved the best that life afforded.
+
+How he could at present aid her, he saw not. A few years of help and time
+to study must be given her, and as Old Cy realized how much must be done
+for her and how uncertain it was whether Angie would find time, or be
+willing to do it, then and there he determined to share that duty with
+her.
+
+It was midsummer when Martin and his party returned to the lake with
+Chip. In two weeks the new log cabin--a large one, divided into three
+compartments--was erected and ready for occupation, and so convenient
+and picturesque a wildwood dwelling was it that a brief description may
+be tolerated.
+
+All log cabins are much alike--a square enclosure of unhewn logs thatched
+with saplings and chinked with mud and moss. A low door of boards or
+split poles is the usual entrance, with one small window for light; its
+floor may be of small split logs or mother earth, and at best it is a
+cramped, cheerless hovel.
+
+But Martin's was a more pretentious creation. Its location, well out on
+the birch-clad point, back of which stood the hermit's hut, commanded a
+view of the lake. A group of tall-stemmed spruce, amid which it stood,
+gave shade, yet allowed observation. It was of oblong shape, with a
+wide piazza of white birch poles and roof of same; two four-pane windows
+to each room gave ample light; a small Franklin stove had been brought
+for the sitting room, and a cook stove occupied the "lean-to" cook
+room back of the main cabin. Beds, chairs, and benches were fashioned
+from the plentiful white birch stems, and floor and doors were of planed
+boards.
+
+It was but a crude structure, compared to even the humblest of civilized
+dwellings; and yet with all its fittings conveyed into this wilderness in
+one bateau, and with only axes, a saw, and hammer for tools, as was
+the case, it was a marvel.
+
+Working as all the men had done from dawn until dark to complete this
+cabin, no recreation had been taken by any one except Ray and Chip; and
+now Martin, a keen sportsman, felt that his turn had come. The trout were
+rising night and morn all over the lake, partridges so tame that they
+would scarce fly were as plenty as sparrows, a half-dozen deer could be
+seen any time along the lake shore--in fact, one had already furnished
+them venison--and so Martin now anticipated some relaxation and sport.
+
+But Fate willed otherwise.
+
+One of Old Cy's first and most far-sighted bits of work, after being
+left with the hermit the previous autumn, had been the erection of an
+ice-house out of large saplings. It stood at the foot of a high bank
+on the north of the knoll and close to the lake, and here, out of the
+sunshine, yet handy to fill, stood his creation. Its double walls of
+poles were stuffed with moss, its roof chinked with blue clay, a sliding
+door gave ingress, and even now, with summer almost gone, an ample supply
+of ice remained in it.
+
+In the division of duties among these campers, Levi usually started the
+morning fire while Old Cy visited the ice-house for anything needed. One
+morning after the new cabin was completed, he came here as usual.
+
+A fine string of trout caught by Martin and Ray the day before were
+hanging in this ice-house, and securing what was needed, Old Cy closed
+the door and turned away. As usual with him, he glanced up and down
+the narrow beach to see if a deer had wandered along there that morning,
+and in doing so he now saw, close to the water's edge and distinctly
+outlined in the damp sand, the print of a moccasined foot.
+
+It was of extra large size, and as Old Cy bent over it, he saw it had
+recently been made. Glancing along toward the head of this cove, he saw
+more tracks, and two rods away, the sharp furrow of a canoe prow in the
+sand.
+
+"It's that pesky half-breed, sure's a gun," he muttered, stooping
+over the track, "fer a good bit o' his legs was turned up to walk on,
+and he wore moccasins t'other day."
+
+Curious now, and somewhat startled, he looked along where the narrow
+beach curved out and around to the landing, and saw the tracks led that
+way. Then picking his way so as not to obscure them, he followed until
+not three rods from the new cabin they left the beach and were plainly
+visible behind a couple of spruces, in the soft carpet of needles, which
+was crushed for a small space, where some one had stood.
+
+Returning to camp, Old Cy motioned to Levi and Martin. All three returned
+to the ice-house, looked where the canoe had cut its furrow, took up
+the trail to its ending beside the two trees, and then glanced into one
+another's eyes with serious, sobered, troubled faces.
+
+And well they might; for the evening previous they had all been grouped
+upon the piazza of this new cabin until late, while scarce three rods
+away a spying enemy, presumably this half-breed, had stood and watched
+them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+  "Blessed be them that 'spects nothin', they won't git
+  fooled."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Christmas Cove was never disturbed by aught except small boats, and few
+of them. It was a long, crescent-shaped arm of the sea, parallel to the
+ocean, and separated from it by a spruce-clad cliff; its placid surface
+scarcely more than rippled or undulated outside, and so shallow was it
+that each ebb tide left its sandy bottom bare.
+
+A stream found devious way along this crescent when the outflow left it
+bare. Mottled minnows, schools of white and green smelts, crabs of all
+sorts and sizes, swam and sported up and down this broad, shallow brook
+while the tide was away, and few of human kind ever watched them.
+
+Alongside this cove and inward a dozen or more brown houses and a few
+white ones faced its curving shore, a broad street with many elms and
+ruts between which the grass grew separated the houses and cove, and a
+small white church with a gilt fish for weather-vane on its steeple stood
+midway of these dwellings.
+
+A low range of green hills to the northward of this village shut off
+the wintry winds, at the upper end of the street a stream from a cleft
+in the hills crossed it, and here stood a mill, its roof green with
+moss, its clapboards brown and whitened with mill dust, the log dam
+above it half obscured by willows. To the right of this a short flume
+was entirely hidden by alders, and above the dam lay a pond, entirely
+covered with green lily-pads, and dotted by white blossoms all summer.
+
+Beside the mill and nearer the roadway stood an ancient dwelling,
+also moss-coated; two giant elms shaded it, and the entire impression
+conveyed by the mill's drowsy rumble and splashing wheel on a hot
+August afternoon was--find a shady spot and take a nap.
+
+These were the summer conditions existent at Christmas Cove. The winter
+ones may be left undescribed.
+
+Just beyond where the mill stream crossed the road the highway divided,
+one fork following the trend of these hills to where a railroad crossed
+them, ten miles away; the other, running close to the upper and marshy
+end of Christmas Cove to where a spile bridge connected the two uplands
+and thence over to another village called Bayport. This, the larger
+of the two, had once contained a shipyard, now idle, a score of its
+dwellings were vacant, and the two hundred or more of its population
+existed by farming, fishing, lobster-catching, and a small factory
+devoted to the production of sardines duly labelled with a French name.
+
+Christmas Cove, however, was more respectable, with its hundred
+residents, mostly retired sea captains with an income, and no litter of
+lobster pots or nets to obstruct its one long, narrow wharf which
+reached out to deep water at the mouth of the cove. A few small pleasure
+craft were tethered to the wharf, and gardens, cows, and poultry were
+merely diversions here.
+
+One other income it had, however, which was considered less plebeian than
+Bayport's--the money a score of city-bred people left each summer.
+
+Keeping boarders was all right at Christmas Cove. It did not smack of
+trade and commerce. No smoke of engines, no dust of coal, no noise of
+hammer and saw, were parts of it. No odor from a canning factory, no
+wrack of dismantled boats, tarred nets, and broken traps, was connected
+with it. The dwellings at Christmas Cove were roomy, few children were
+now a part of its population--scarce enough to fill the one schoolhouse
+presided over by Mr. Bell, and so each season a few dozen of the uneasy
+horde, always anxious to leave home and board somewhere, came here.
+
+A daily stage line--an ancient carryall drawn by one sleepy
+horse--connected this village with the railroad. Its church bell called
+the faithful to Thursday evening prayer-meeting and Sunday service with
+unfailing regularity. Its one general store and post-office combined, was
+the evening rendezvous for a score of sea captains--grizzled hulks who
+had sailed into safe harbor here at last, and who watched the
+weather, discussed the visitors, and swapped yarns year in and year out.
+
+Here also, many years before, when Bayport was more prosperous, the
+threads of a romance had been woven, and two brothers, Judson and Cyrus
+Walker, born at Bayport, and sailing out of it, had paid court to two
+sisters, Abigail and Amanda Grey, here at Christmas Cove.
+
+It was, as such sailors' courtships ever are, intermittent. Six, eight,
+and sometimes twelve months marked its interims, until finally only
+one brother, Judson, returned to announce a shipwreck in mid-ocean,
+a separation of their crew in two boats, and Abbie Grey, whom Cyrus
+had smiled upon, was left to wait and watch and hope.
+
+In time, also, Judson and "Mandy" joined fortunes. In time, and after
+many voyages, during which he vainly tried to find some tidings of his
+brother, Judson, now Captain Walker, gave up the sea, and with wife
+and two young sons retired inland, purchased an abandoned farm in a
+sequestered valley, and began another life.
+
+Another mating had also occurred at Christmas Cove, for Abbie, the other
+sister and the sweetheart of Cyrus, giving him up for lost, finally
+consented to share the ancestral home of Captain Bemis--once a sailor and
+now the miller, who had exchanged the sea's perils for that peaceful
+vocation.
+
+His father had ground grist here for a lifetime, and passed on. His
+mother still survived when Abbie Grey, once the belle of the village and
+a boarding-school graduate, married Captain Bemis, twice her age, and
+her old-time romance became only a memory.
+
+No children came to fill this great, cheerless house with laughter. The
+old mother was laid away in due time, Abbie, once a handsome girl, grew
+portly and became Aunt Abbie to neighboring children, and finally all
+the village; and disappointed as she had cause to be, she turned her
+thoughts to good works and religion.
+
+But Cyrus, adrift in an open boat with half the crew, was finally
+rescued by a whaler, after starvation had left him almost an imbecile.
+A four-year, compulsory voyage to southern seas followed; then
+another wreck and a year on an island, and then a chance meeting with
+another sailor from Bayport, and from whom he learned two unpleasant
+facts,--first that his sweetheart, Abbie Grey, was married; and secondly
+that his brother had been lost at sea.
+
+One was true, of course, and somewhat disheartening to Cyrus; the
+other, as discomforting, but not true. It was simply a case of mistaken
+identity, his own disappearance being confounded with that of his brother.
+
+This story served the purpose of so affecting Cyrus that he resolved
+never to set foot in either Christmas Cove or Bayport, and also never
+to allow any one there to know that he was alive.
+
+From now on, also, he deserted the sea and became a wanderer. He first
+lived in the wilderness, where as trapper and hunter and lumberman he
+learned the woodsman's habits; and when mid-life was reached, having
+become sceptical of all things, he finally settled down at Greenvale.
+Here, loving children and the woods, fields, brooks, and Nature more than
+raiment, religion, and respectability, he became a village nondescript,
+a social outcast, and--Old Cy Walker.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+  "The poor 'n' pious kin callate the crumbs fallin' from the
+  rich man's table'll be few 'n' skimpy."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+An enemy we can meet in the open need not appall us; but an enemy who
+creeps up to us by day, or still worse by night, in a vast wilderness,
+becomes a panther and an Indian combined.
+
+Such a one had spied upon Martin's camp that night, and all the tales
+of this half-breed's cunning and fierce nature, told by Levi, were now
+recalled. Like a human brute whose fangs were tobacco-stained, whose one
+evil eye glared at them out of darkness, the half-breed had now become a
+creeping, crawling beast, impossible to trail, yet certain to bide his
+time, seize Chip, or avenge her loss upon her protectors.
+
+Now another complication arose as Martin, Old Cy, and Levi left the
+spot where this enemy had watched them--what to do about Angie and the
+girl? From the first warning from Levi that they were in danger from
+the half-breed, Martin had avoided all hint of it to them. Now they
+must be told, and all peace of mind at once destroyed. Concealment was
+no longer possible, however, and when Angie was told, her face paled. Her
+first intuition, and as the sequel proved, a wise one, was for them
+to at once pack up and quit the woods as speedily as possible.
+
+But Martin was of different fibre. To run away like this was cowardly,
+and besides he cherished only contempt for a wretch who had played the
+role of this fellow, and was so vile of instinct. With no desire to
+do wrong, he yet felt that if sufficient provocation and the need of
+self-defence arose, the earth, and especially this wilderness, would be
+well rid of such a despicable creature.
+
+Then Levi's advice carried weight.
+
+"We ain't goin' to 'scape him," he said, "by startin' out o'
+the woods now. Most likely he's got his eye on us this minute. He
+knows every rod o' the way out whar we'd be likely to camp. He'd
+sure follow, an' if he didn't cut our canoes to pieces some night,
+he'd watch his chance 'n' grab the gal 'n' make off under cover
+o' darkness. We've got a sort o' human panther to figger on, an'
+shootin' under such conditions might mean killin' the gal. We've got
+to go out sometime, but I don't believe in turnin' tail fust go-off,
+'n' we may get a chance to wing the cuss, like ez not," and the
+glitter in Levi's eyes showed he would not hesitate to shoot this
+half-breed if the chance presented itself.
+
+Old Cy's opinion is also worth quoting:--"My notion is this hyena's a
+coward, 'n' like all sich'll never show himself by daylight. He knows
+we've got guns 'n' know how to use 'em. The camp's as good as a
+fort. One on us kin allus be on guard daytimes, an' when it's time
+to go out--wal, I think we ought to hev cunnin' 'nuff 'mongst us to
+gin one hyena the slip. Thar's one thing must be done, though, 'n'
+that is, keep the gal clus. 'Twon't do to let her go over the hog-back
+arter berries, or canoein' round the lake no more."
+
+And now began a state of semi-siege at Birch Camp.
+
+Chip was kept an almost prisoner, hardly ever permitted out of
+Angie's sight. One of the men, always with rifle handy, remained on
+guard--usually Old Cy, and for a few nights he lay in ambush near the
+shore, to see if perchance this enemy would steal up again.
+
+With all these precautions against surprise, came a certain feeling of
+defiance in Martin. With Ray for companion he went fishing once more,
+and with Levi as pilot he cruised about for game.
+
+Only a few more weeks of his outing remained, and on sober second
+thought, he didn't mean to let this sneaking enemy spoil those.
+
+But Old Cy never relaxed his vigil. This waif of the wilderness and her
+pitiful position appealed to him even more than to Angie, and true to
+the nature that had made all Greenvale's children love him, so now did
+Chip find him a kind and protecting father.
+
+With rifle always with him, he took her canoeing and fishing; sometimes
+Angie joined them, and so life at Birch Camp became pleasant once more.
+
+A week or more of happiness was passed, with no sight or sign of their
+enemy, and then one morning when Old Cy had journeyed over to the
+ice-house, he glanced across the lake to a narrow valley through which a
+stream known as Beaver Brook reached the lake, and far up this vale,
+rising above the dense woods, was a faint column of smoke.
+
+The morning was damp, cloudy, and still--conditions suitable for
+smoke-rising, and yet so faint and distant was this that none but
+the keen, observant eyes of a woodsman would have noticed it. Yet there
+it was, a thin white pillar, clearly outlined against the dark green
+of the foliage.
+
+Old Cy hurried back, motioned to Levi, and the two watched it from the
+front of the camp. Martin soon joined them, then Angie and Chip, and all
+stood and studied this smoke sign. It was almost ludicrous, and yet not;
+for at its foot must be a fire, and beside it, doubtless, the half-breed.
+
+"Can you locate it?" queried Martin of his guide, as the delicate
+column of white slowly faded.
+
+"It's purty well up the brook," Levi answered; "thar's a sort of
+Rocky Dundar thar, 'n' probably a cave. I callate if it's him, he's
+s'pected a storm, 'n' so sneaked to cover."
+
+And now, as if to prove this, a few drops of rain began to patter on
+the motionless lake; thicker, faster they came, and as the little group
+hurried to shelter, a torrent, almost, descended. For weeks not a drop of
+rain had fallen here. Each morn the sun had risen in undimmed splendor,
+to vanish at night, a ball of glorious red.
+
+But now a change had come. Wind followed the rain, and all that day the
+storm raged and roared through the dense forest about. The lake was
+white with driving scud, the cabin rocked, trees creaked, and outdoor
+life was impossible. When night came, it seemed a thousand demons were
+wailing, moaning, and screeching in the forest, and as the little party
+now grouped around the open stove in the new cabin watched it, the fire
+rose and fell in unison with the blasts.
+
+"It's the spites," whispered Chip to Ray. "They allus act that way
+when it's stormin'."
+
+The next day the gale began to lessen, and by night the moon, now half
+full, peeped out of the scurrying clouds. At bedtime it was smiling
+serenely, well down toward the tree-tops, and Chip's spites had ceased
+their wailing.
+
+Fortunately, however, Martin's quest for game had been successful. A
+saddle of venison, a dozen or more partridges, and two goodly strings of
+trout hung in cold storage.
+
+But utter and almost speechless astonishment awaited Old Cy at the
+ice-house when he visited it the next morning, for the venison was
+gone, not a bird remained, and one of the two strings of trout had
+vanished.
+
+In front, on the sand, was the same tell-tale moccasin tracks.
+
+"Wal, by the Great Horn Spoon! if that cuss hain't swiped the hull
+business," Old Cy ejaculated, as he looked in and then at the tracks.
+"Crossed over last night," he added, noting where a canoe had cut its
+furrow, "an' steered plumb for my ice-house! The varmint!"
+
+But Martin was angry, thoroughly angry, at the audacious insolence of
+the theft, and the thought that just now this sneaking half-breed was
+doubtless enjoying grilled venison and roast partridge in some secure
+shelter. It also opened his eyes to the fact that this chap would hang
+about, watching his chance, until they started out of the wilderness, and
+then capture the girl if he could. For a little while Martin pondered
+over the situation and then announced his plans.
+
+"There's law, and officers to execute it," he said, "if a sufficient
+reward be offered; and to-morrow you and I, Levi, will start for the
+settlement and fetch a couple in. I'll gladly give five hundred dollars
+to land this sneak behind the bars. If he can't be caught, we can at
+least have two officers to guard us going out."
+
+All that day he and Levi spent in hunting. Another deer was captured,
+more birds secured, and when evening came plans to meet the situation
+were discussed.
+
+"You or Ray must remain on guard daytimes near the cabin," Martin said
+to Old Cy. "My wife and Chip had better keep in it, or near it most of
+the time; and both of you must sleep there nights. One or the other can
+fish or hunt, as needed. We must be gone a week or more, even if we have
+good luck; but fetching the officers here is the best plan now."
+
+Levi was up early the next morning, and had the best canoe packed for
+a hurry trip ere breakfast was ready. No tent was to be taken, only
+blankets, a rifle, a bag of the simplest cooking utensils, pork, bread,
+and coffee. A modest outfit--barely enough to sustain life, yet all a
+woodsman carries when a long canoe journey with many carries must be
+taken.
+
+There were sober faces at the landing when Martin was ready to
+start,--Chip most sober of all,--for now she realized as never before
+how serious a burden she had become.
+
+No time was wasted in good-bys. Martin grasped the bow paddle, and with
+"Old Faithful" Levi wielding the stern one, they soon crossed the lake
+and vanished at its outlet.
+
+And now, also, for the first time, Angie realized how much the
+presence of these two strong and resourceful men meant to her. All
+that day she and Chip clung to the cabin, while Old Cy, a long, lanky
+Leatherstocking, patrolled the premises, rifle in hand.
+
+"We hain't a mite o' cause to worry," he said, when nightfall drew
+near. "That pesky varmint's a coward, 'n' knows guns are plenty
+here, an' we folks handy in usin' 'em. I've rigged a fish line to
+the ice-house door, so it'll rattle some tinware in the cabin if he
+meddles it again. I sleep with one eye 'n' both ears open, an' if he
+comes prowlin' round night-times, he'll hear bullets whizzin' an'
+think Fourth o' July's opened up arly."
+
+But for all his cheerful assurance, time passed slowly, and a sense of
+real danger oppressed Angie and Chip as well. Ray shared it also. He was
+not as yet hardened to the wilderness, and like all who are thus tender,
+its vast sombre solitude seemed ominous.
+
+Only the hermit, with his moonlike eyes and impassive ways, showed no
+sign of trouble. What this half-breed wanted, other than food, he seemed
+not to understand; and while he helped about the camp work and followed
+Old Cy like a dog, he was of no other aid.
+
+One, two, three days of watchful guard and evenings when even Old Cy's
+cheerful philosophy or Ray's banjo failed to dispel the gloom, and then,
+just as the sun was setting once again, a canoe with one occupant was
+seen to enter the lake and head for the landing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+  "The more I see o' the world, the better I like the
+  woods."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Martin's journey to the settlement was a rushing one. The first day
+they wielded paddles without rest, and aided by the current made
+rapid progress. Both carries were passed before sunset, a halt made
+for a supper of frizzled pork, coffee, and hard tack; then on again
+by moonlight, and not until wearied to the limit at almost midnight did
+they pause, and hiding themselves in the entrance to an old tote road,
+they slept the sleep of weariness.
+
+Tim's Place was sighted the next day, and now, at Levi's suggestion,
+Martin lay down in the canoe as they passed it, concealed beneath a
+blanket.
+
+"It's best to be keerful," Levi said, when proposing this; "I
+wouldn't trust Tim a minute. Most likely he's found out whar the
+gal is, an' knows what Pete's up to. The two are cahoots together,
+'n' if Tim saw you an' I both leavin', no tellin' what'd happen."
+
+The journey from here on was slower, as no current aided, and yet in
+three days and nights of paddling, Martin and Levi covered that
+hundred-mile journey and reached the settlement.
+
+A stage and rail journey, consuming one day and night more, enabled
+Martin to reach the man he wanted--a well-informed and fearless officer
+named Hersey, and then, securing an assistant and a warrant for one Pete
+Bolduc, on the charge of theft, the three returned to the settlement
+where Levi had waited.
+
+"I'm glad to get track of this half-breed," Hersey said on the way.
+"He has been the pal of the notorious McGuire for many years, and
+besides has been smuggling whiskey into lumber camps and slaughtering
+game out of season all the time. Like McGuire, he is hard to locate.
+No guide or lumberman dare betray him, and so it's a fruitless task to
+try to catch either. We have been after this McGuire for years. He
+killed one deputy and wounded another, as you may have heard. This
+Bolduc is a cat of the same color, but less courageous, I fancy, and
+yet as hard to catch. I think, for the sake of your guide," he added,
+"we'd better not enter the woods together. You two go on, saying
+nothing. My mate and I will say we are on a pleasure trip, and follow
+and overtake you in a few hours. This will protect your man, and evade
+suspicion. Even these people at the settlement are half-hearted in
+aiding an officer. Most of them are fearful of house or barn burning if
+they give any information to us, a few are in secret league with these
+outlaws; and so you see our position."
+
+Martin saw, and marvelled that any of the simple, honest dwellers at this
+small settlement, law-abiding as they seemed, would either aid or warn so
+red-handed a criminal as McGuire.
+
+That fear of consequences might influence them, was possible, and yet all
+the more reason for assisting the law in ridding the forest of two such
+criminals.
+
+But Martin, thorough sportsman that he was, and keen to all the world's
+affairs, understood but little of the conditions existent in the
+wilderness, or about the lives and morals of those who find a living thus.
+
+He knew, as all do, that a few thousand lumbermen entered each autumn,
+and, much to his regret, made steady inroads toward its despoilment. He
+knew, also, that these men included many of excellent habits--sober,
+industrious workers with families which they cheerfully supported, and
+that there were also many among them whose sole ambition was to earn a
+few hundred dollars in a season of hard work, that they might spend it
+in a few weeks, or even days, of drunken debauchery.
+
+He was well aware that a few wandering hunters and trappers plied their
+calling here, and many of a mixed occupation, guiding sportsmen like
+himself in season, were engaged in lumbering or farming between times.
+This mixed and transient population, he knew, were neither better nor
+worse than the average of such pioneers--good-natured and good-hearted,
+though somewhat lax in speech and morals.
+
+What he did not know, however, was that a few unscrupulous and
+disreputable men, half gamblers, half dive-keepers, followed these
+lumbermen into camp as ostensible hunters and trappers, but really
+gamblers, ready to turn a trick at cards, convoy a keg of whiskey in,
+or follow a moose on snow-shoes, kill and sell him, as occasion
+offered. Or that, when spring opened the streams, these same itinerant
+purveyors of vice spotted their possible victims, as a bunco man does a
+rural "good thing" visiting the metropolis, and when they reached town
+or city, steered them where harpies waited to share the spoil. A
+brief explanation of these facts were furnished to Martin by Warden
+Hersey, when, after overhauling him, the parties joined about one
+camp-fire.
+
+"We have," Hersey said, "in the case of this McGuire, a fair
+sample of the outcome liable to follow or attach to a man who makes a
+business of preying upon the vices and follies of the lumbering
+class. It is a sort of evolution in law-evasion and opportunity,
+encouraged and aided by the animosity which is sure to arise between the
+lumberman and us, whose duty it is to enforce the fish and game laws.
+These lumbermen, or a majority of them, feel and believe that the forest
+and all it contains is theirs by natural right; that no law forbidding
+them to obtain all the fish and game they can, is just; that such laws
+are enacted and accrue for the sole benefit of city sportsmen who,
+like yourself, come here for rest and recreation. It is all a wrong
+conclusion, as we know, and yet it exists. Now come these leeches
+like McGuire, who prey upon this hard-working class. Such as McGuire
+foster the prejudice and antagonism of the lumbermen in all ways
+possible, arguing that moose and deer are the natural perquisites of
+those who go into the woods for a livelihood, and belong to them as much
+as the trees which they have paid stumpage to cut. Also that we who come
+in to execute the laws are interlopers, who draw pay for the sole
+purpose of robbing them of their rights. Of course, we receive no welcome
+at a lumbering camp, and not one iota of information as to what is
+going on or where a law-breaker may be found. More than that, they will
+protect the leeches who fatten on them in every way possible, even
+after, as in McGuire's case, they become murderers and outlaws, with a
+price set upon their capture. And here comes in the factor of terrorism.
+A few of these lumbermen might give information from a desire to aid the
+law, or to obtain a reward, did they not know that to do so would expose
+them to the inevitable fate of all betrayers.
+
+"It is a community of interest, a sort of freemasonry that exists
+between these lumbermen and all who thrive upon their labors and
+hardships. Now this McGuire has preyed upon them for years, a notorious
+example of dive-keeper, gambler, smuggler, and pot-hunter. He is now in
+hiding somewhere in this wilderness, or, maybe, creeping up some
+stream with a canoe load of liquor bought in some Canadian town. He
+will meet and be welcomed by any lumber-cutting party just making camp
+next fall, sell them liquor at exorbitant prices, shoot and sell them
+venison, and when the snow is deep enough, he will follow and find
+moose yards, and do a wholesale slaughter act, and not satisfied with
+this, will absorb any and all money these lumbermen have left by card
+games. And yet the moment I enter the woods to arrest him, their camps
+are closed to me, and word of my coming is passed along to others. The
+guides even, who are at the beck and call of you sportsmen, are,
+many of them, in secret sympathy with such as McGuire; or if not, dare
+not give any clews, and many a wild-goose chase has resulted from
+following their supposed information. Some of the wisest among them are
+beginning to realize that they must cooperate with us in the protection
+of fish and game, or their occupation will be gone. But even those
+sensible fellows--and they are increasing--hate to become informer,
+fearing consequences.
+
+"There is still another side to this game situation," continued Hersey,
+filling and lighting his pipe, "and this is our laws, or rather, the
+selfishness of our lawmakers. We have plenty of laws--and good ones.
+We impose a license tax upon all non-residents for the privilege of
+shooting or fishing. We limit the season and number of moose, deer,
+or trout which may be taken. This license, which is all right, produces
+an annual fund sufficient to employ ten wardens, where the State only
+employs one. The result is that this vast wilderness is so poorly
+patrolled that a game warden is as much of a rarity as a white deer.
+Now and then one may be seen canoeing up or down some main stream,
+or loafing a week or two at some backwoods farm and having a good time.
+One may certainly be found at all points of egress; but a portion of the
+wilderness--the greater way-back region--is rarely visited by wardens.
+
+"There is still one more point, and that is the pay which wardens
+receive. It is so small that capable, honest men cannot be obtained
+for what the State allows; and considering the large sums raised from
+this license tax, it is a mere pittance. The result is, we have to employ
+a class of men, many of whom are no respecters of the law themselves,
+or who may be bribed."
+
+It was a full and complete explanation of the conditions then existing in
+the wilderness, and as Martin glanced at "Old Faithful" Levi lounging
+on his elbow, he understood why that astute guide had always avoided all
+possible reference to McGuire.
+
+"This half-breed, Bolduc, is another sample of his class," continued
+Hersey, "and while we have no criminal charge, we can prove we know he
+is a pot-hunter, and I'll be glad to nab him, for an example. I judge
+he is lurking about your camp, watching a chance to abduct this girl,
+and while it's an unusual case, it may serve our purpose nicely--a sort
+of bait, useful in alluring him into our hands. How we can catch him,
+however, is not an easy problem. He knows the forest far better than
+we do; every stream, lake, defile, or cave is familiar to him, and,
+cunning as a fox, all pursuit would be useless. Our only hope is to
+patrol the woods about your camp as hunters, or watch for another night
+visit, and halt him, at the muzzle of a rifle."
+
+And now Martin turned the conversation to a more interesting
+subject--Chip herself.
+
+"I saw the girl at Tim's Place," Hersey said, "and knowing her
+ancestry, felt curious to observe her. She appeared bright as a new
+dollar and a willing worker for Tim. Of course, it seemed unfortunate
+that she should be left to grow up there without education; and while
+her natural guardian being an outlaw gave the State an ample right to
+interfere, the proper officer has never seen fit to do so. It has been a
+case of 'out of sight, out of mind,' I presume, and while we have
+a law obliging parents to send their children to public schools so
+many months a year until a certain age, this is a case where no one has
+seen fit to enforce it."
+
+"But what about her parents?" queried Martin, curious on this point.
+"Do you know whether they were legally married?"
+
+"Why, no-o, only by hearsay," Hersey responded. "I've been told
+her mother was a Nova Scotia girl, a mill worker in one of our larger
+cities, and as no one ever hinted otherwise, I think it safe to assume
+that they were married. If not, there would surely have been some one to
+spread the sinister fact. It's the way of the world. I presume Tim
+knows the girl's history, but he is such a surly Irishman that I never
+questioned him. In fact, his surroundings, as you may have noticed, do
+not invite long visits."
+
+But no visit or even halt at Tim's Place was now considered advisable.
+In fact, as Levi said, it was best to pass that spot at midnight. This
+suggestion was carried out, and in five days from leaving the settlement,
+Martin and the officers made their last camp at the lake where he had
+once seen a spectral canoeist.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+  "A swelled heart may cost ye money, but a swelled head'll
+  cost ye ten times more."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+An unexpected canoe entering a lake so secluded and so seldom visited as
+this lake must needs awaken the keenest surprise, and especially in the
+case of a party situated as this one was. Ray, who had just returned
+from a berry-picking trip over at the "blow down," and Old Cy, carrying
+his suggestive rifle, were at the landing some time before this canoe
+reached it, while Angie and Chip waited almost breathlessly on the cabin
+piazza. A stout, bare-headed Indian, clad in white man's raiment, was
+paddling. He glanced at the two awaiting him at the landing, with big
+black, emotionless eyes, and then up to the cabin.
+
+As his canoe now grated on the sandy beach close by, he laid aside his
+paddle, stepped forward and out, drew his craft well up, and folding
+his arms glanced at Old Cy again, as if waiting for a welcome. None was
+needed, however, for on the instant, almost, came an exclamation of joy
+from Chip, and with a "Hullo, Poppy Tomah," she was down the bank,
+with both her hands in his.
+
+A faint smile of welcome spread over his austere face as he looked down
+at the girl, but not a word, as yet, came.
+
+Old Cy, quick to see that he was a friend, now advanced.
+
+"We're glad to see ye," he said, "an' as ye seem to be a friend o'
+the gal's, we'll make ye welcome."
+
+The Indian bowed low, and a "How do," like a grunt, was his answer. A
+calm, slow, motionless type of a now almost extinct race, as he seemed
+to be, he would utter no word or move a step farther until invited. But
+now, led by Chip, he advanced up the path.
+
+"It's Tomah, old Poppy Tomah," she said with pride, as Angie rose to
+meet them, "and he's the only body who was ever good to me."
+
+"I am glad to see you, sir," Angie said, with a gracious bow and smile,
+"and you are welcome here."
+
+"I thank the white lady--I not forget," came the Indian's dignified
+answer with a stately bow.
+
+Not a word of greeting for Chip or of surprise at finding her here--only
+the eagle glance, accustomed to bright sunlight or to following the
+flight of a bird far out of white man's vision.
+
+"We shall have supper soon," Angie added, uncertain what to say to this
+impassive man, "and some for you."
+
+It was a deft speech, for Angie, accustomed to take in every detail of a
+man from the condition of his nails to the cut of his clothing, as all
+women will, had ere now absorbed the appearance of this swarthy redskin,
+and was not quite sure whether to invite him to share their table or say
+nothing.
+
+But the Indian solved his own problem, for spying the outdoor fire to
+which Old Cy now retreated, he bowed again and strode away toward it.
+
+"Me cook here?" he said to Old Cy. With an "Of course, an' you're
+welcome to," the question was settled.
+
+Chip soon drew near, and now for the first time the Indian's speech
+seemed to return, and while Old Cy busied himself about the cooking,
+these two began to visit.
+
+Chip, as might be expected, did most of the talking, asked questions as
+to Tim's Place, when he was there, and what they said about her running
+away, in rapid succession. Her own adventures and how she came here soon
+followed, and it was not long before he knew all that was to be known
+about her.
+
+His replies were blunt and brief, after the manner of such. Now and then
+an expressive nod or grunt filled in the place of an ordinary answer.
+He knew but little about the recent happenings at Tim's Place, as he
+had stayed there only one night since Chip departed with her father--as
+he was told. He had been away in the woods, looking for places to set
+traps later, and had no idea Chip was here.
+
+As to Pete's movements, he was equally in the dark, and when Chip told
+him what her friends here suspected, he merely grunted. As he seemed to
+wish to do his own cooking, Old Cy, having completed his task, offered
+him a partridge and a couple of trout fresh from the ice-house, also pork
+and potatoes, and left him to care for himself.
+
+He became more sociable later, and when supper was over and the rest had,
+as usual, gathered on the piazza of the new cabin, he joined them.
+
+And now came a recital from Ray of far more interest to these people than
+they suspected.
+
+"I saw a bear over back of the ridge this afternoon," he said, "or I
+don't know but it was a wildcat. I'd just filled my pail with berries,
+when way up, close to the rocks, I saw something moving. I crouched down
+back of a bush, thinking it might be a bear, and if it was, I'd get
+a chance to see it nearer. I could only see the top of its back above
+the bushes, and once I saw its head, as if it was standing up. Then I
+didn't see it for quite a spell, and then I caught sight of its back
+again, a good deal nearer, and then it went into one of the gullies in
+the hog-back. I didn't wait to see if it came out, but cut for home."
+
+"Did this critter sorter wobble like a woodchuck runnin'?" put in Old
+Cy.
+
+"No, it just crept along evenly," answered Ray, "I'd see it when it
+would come out between the bushes."
+
+"'Twa'n't a b'ar," muttered Old Cy, and then, as if the unwisdom of
+waking suspicion in Angie's mind occurred, he added hastily, "but mebbe
+'twas a doe, walkin' head down 'n' feedin'."
+
+No further notice was taken of Ray's adventure. The sight of deer
+everywhere about was a ten-times-daily occurrence, and Old Cy's
+dismissal of the matter ended it.
+
+His thoughts, however, were a different matter. Full well he knew it was
+no bear thus moving. A deer would never enter a crevasse, nor a wildcat
+or lynx ever leave the shelter of woods to wander in open sunlight.
+
+"I'll go over thar in the mornin'," he said to himself; "I may git a
+chance to wing that varmint 'n' end our worryin'."
+
+And now Angie, more interested in spites and the weird belief which she
+heard that this Indian held than in the sight of a doe, began to ply Old
+Tomah with questions, and bit by bit she led him on toward that subject.
+
+It was not an easy task. His speech came slowly. Deeds, not words, are an
+Indian's form of expression, and this fair white lady, serene as the
+moon and as suave and smiling as culture could make her, was one to awe
+him.
+
+With Chip he had been fluent enough. She had been almost a protegee of
+his, a big pappoose whom he had taught to manage a canoe, for whom he had
+made moccasins, a fur cap and cape, who had listened to all his strange
+theories with wide-open, believing eyes, and, best of all, a helpless
+waif whom he had learned to love.
+
+But this white lady, awe-inspiring as she was, now failed to induce him
+to talk.
+
+Chip, however, keen to catch the drift of Angie's wishes and anxious
+to have her own faith defended, soon came to the rescue and induced Old
+Tomah to speak--not fluently at first, the "me" in place of "I"
+always occurring, adjectives following nouns, prepositions left out in
+many cases; and yet, as he warmed up to his subject, his coal-black eyes
+were fierce or tender, and the inborn eloquence of his race glowed in
+face and speech.
+
+And what a wild tale he told! Some of it was the history of his own
+race, beginning long before white men came. He related the contests of
+his people with wild animals, their deeds of valor, their torturing
+of prisoners, their own scorn of death and stoical endurance of pain.
+His own ancestors had been mighty chieftains. They had led the tribe
+through many battles, swept down upon their white enemies, an avenging
+horde, and were now roaming the happy hunting-grounds where he would soon
+join them. Mingled with this tale of warfare and conquest, and always
+an unseen force for good or evil, were the spites--the souls of all
+brute creation. How they followed or led the hunter! How they warned
+their own kind of his coming! How they lured him into unseen danger,
+and how they continually sought to avenge their own deaths! There were
+also two kinds of them,--some evil and the others good. The evil ones
+predominated, the good ones feared them, yet sought to interfere in all
+evil effort. These two hosts also had their own warfares. They fought
+oftenest when storms raged in the forest. Then they swept the tree-tops
+and scurried over the hills in vast numbers, shrieking and screaming
+defiance.
+
+Another apparition was oft referred to in this weird talk. A great
+white spectre and chieftain of all spites, who sprang from his abode
+in the north, whose breath was a blast of snow, howling as it swept
+over the wilderness--this ghost, so vast that it covered miles and
+miles of wilderness, was altogether evil. It spared neither man nor
+beast. The hunter trailing his game met death on the instant and was
+left rigid and upright in his tracks. Squaws and children huddled in
+wigwams shared the same speedy fate. Lynxes and panthers, deer and
+moose by the score, were touched by the same mystic and awful wand of
+death.
+
+It was all an uncanny, eerie, ghostly recital; yet all real and true
+to Chip, whose eyes never once left the Indian's face while he was
+speaking. Angie, too, was spellbound. Never had she heard anything
+like it; and while believing it was all a mere myth and legend, a
+superstitious fancy, maybe, of this strange Indian, its telling was
+none the less interesting.
+
+Ray was also enthralled, and he was half convinced that the forest might,
+after all, contain spooks and goblins.
+
+But Old Cy was only a curious listener. He, too, had woven many a
+fantastic tale of the sea, its storms and monsters leaping from the
+crests of waves, and all such figments of the imagination, and this
+fable was but the same. The only feature of passing interest to him was
+the fact that any Indian had such a vivid imagination and could relate
+such a mingled ghost story so coherently.
+
+Old Tomah ceased speaking even more abruptly than he began, then looked
+from one to another of the group, perhaps to see if they all believed
+him, and then without a word or even "good night," he rose and stalked
+out of the cabin.
+
+For a few moments Chip watched Angie and the rest, anxious to see how
+this explanation of her own belief affected them, and then Old Cy spoke.
+
+"I'd hate to be campin' with that Injun," he said, "or sharin' a
+wigwam with him night-times. It 'ud be worse'n a man I sot up with
+once that had the jim-jams, 'n' I'd see spites and spooks for a week
+arter."
+
+Angie's sleep was troubled that night, and in her dreams she saw white
+spectres and a man with a hideously scarred face and one eye watching her.
+
+Ray also felt the uncanny influence of such a tale and "saw things"
+in his sleep. But Old Cy, who had securely barred the doors and then had
+rolled himself in a blanket with rifle handy, thought only of what Ray
+had seen that day and who it might be.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+  "An honest man's the best critter God ever made, an' the
+  skeercest."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Old Cy's suspicions were correct. It was neither bear, deer, nor wildcat
+that Ray saw skulking along the ridge, but the half-breed.
+
+Believing Chip's father had taken her out of the wilderness, or more
+likely up-stream to find a place with these campers, he had come here
+to seek her. To find her here, as he of course did, only convinced him
+that his suspicions were true and that her father had thus meant to rob
+him.
+
+Two determined impulses now followed this discovery: first, to make the
+girl he had bought a prisoner, carry her into the woods, and then, when
+the chance came, revenge himself on McGuire. No sense of law, or decency
+even, entered his calculation. He was beyond such scruples, and what he
+wanted was his only law.
+
+The fear of rifles, which he knew were plenty enough at this camp, was
+the only factor to be considered. For days he watched the camp from
+across the lake, hoping that the girl he saw canoeing with a boy so
+often might come near enough for him to make a capture. Many times,
+when darkness served, he paddled close to where the cabin stood, and
+once landed and watched it for hours.
+
+Growing bolder, as the days wore on, he hid his canoe below the outlet
+of the lake and taking advantage of this outcropping slate ledge with
+its many fissures, secreted himself and watched.
+
+But some shelter, at least to cook and eat in, he must have, and this he
+found in a distant crevasse of this same ledge, and from this he sneaked
+along back of it until he could hide and watch the camp below. From this
+vantage-point, he saw that the girl no longer went out upon the lake,
+but remained near the cabin; then later, he noticed the two men leave
+the lake one morning. This encouraged him, and now he grew still bolder,
+even descending the ridge and watching those remaining at the cabin,
+from a dense thicket.
+
+From this new post he saw that but one man seemed on guard, and almost
+was he tempted to shoot him from ambush and make a dash to capture his
+victim. Cautious and cunning, he still waited a chance involving less
+risk.
+
+And now he saw that certain duties were performed by these people;
+that one man and the boy always started the morning fire; that the girl
+invariably went to the landing alone for water, at about the same time.
+Here for the moment she was out of sight from either cabin, and now in
+this act of hers, he saw his opportunity to land from his canoe near
+this spot before daylight, and hide in the bushes fringing the shore here
+and below the bank, watch his chance and seize and gag her before an
+outcry could be made. To tie her hands and feet and to push the other
+canoe out into the lake, thus avoiding pursuit until they could get a
+good start, was an easy matter.
+
+It was risky, of course. She might hear or see him in time to give one
+scream. The old man who had said foolish things to him, and now seemed
+to be on guard, would surely send bullets after him as he sped away; but
+once out of the lake, he would be safe. It was a dangerous act; yet the
+other two men might return any day, and with this in prospect, this wily
+half-breed now resolved to act.
+
+Old Cy was up early that fatal morning. Somehow a sense of impending
+danger haunted him, and calling Ray, he unlocked the cabin door and began
+starting the morning fire. He wanted to get breakfast out of the way as
+speedily as possible, and then visit this ridge, feeling almost sure
+that he would find where this half-breed had been watching them.
+
+When Ray came out, and before the hermit or Chip appeared, Old Cy hurried
+over to the ice-house, and now Chip came forth as usual, and without a
+word to any one, she took the two pails and started for the landing. It
+was, perhaps, ten rods to this, down a narrow path winding through the
+scrub spruce. The morning was fair, the lake without a ripple.
+
+Above the ridge, and peeping through its topping of stunted fir, came
+the first glance of the sun, and Chip was happy.
+
+Old Tomah, her one and only friend for many years, was here. A something
+Ray had whispered the night before, now returned like a sweet note of
+music vibrating in her heart, and as if to add their cheer, the birds
+were piping all about.
+
+For weeks the cheerful words of one of Ray's songs had haunted her with
+its catchy rhythm:--
+
+    "Dar was an old nigger and his name was Uncle Ned,
+    He died long 'go, long 'go."
+
+They now rose to her lips, as she neared the lake. Here she halted,
+filled a pail, and set it on the log landing.
+
+[Illustration: Nearer and nearer that unconscious girl it crept!]
+
+From behind a low spruce one evil, sinister eye watched her.
+
+And now Chip, still humming this ditty, glanced up at the rising sun and
+out over the lake.
+
+A crouching form with hideous face now emerged from behind the bush;
+step by step, this human panther advanced. A slow, cautious, catlike
+movement, without sound, as each moccasined foot touched the sand. Nearer
+and nearer that unconscious girl it crept! Now twenty feet away, now
+ten, now five!
+
+And now came a swift rush, two fierce hands enclosed the girl's face
+and drew her backward on to the sand.
+
+Ray and the hermit were beside the fire, and the Indian just emerging
+from the hut where he had slept, when Old Cy returned from the ice-house.
+
+"Where's Chip?" he questioned.
+
+"Gone after water," answered Ray. And the two glanced down the path.
+
+One, two, five minutes elapsed, and then a sudden suspicion of something
+wrong came to Old Cy, and, followed by Ray, he hurried to the landing.
+
+One pail of water stood on the float, both their canoes were adrift on
+the lake, and as Old Cy looked out, there, heading for the outlet, was
+a canoe!
+
+One swift glance and, "My God, he's got Chip!" told the story,
+and with face fierce in anger, he darted back, grasped his rifle, and
+returned.
+
+The canoe, its paddler bending low as he forced it into almost leaps,
+was scarce two lengths from the outlet.
+
+Old Cy raised his rifle, then lowered it.
+
+Chip was in that canoe!
+
+His avenging shot was stayed.
+
+And now Old Tomah leaped down the path, rifle in hand.
+
+One look at the vanishing canoe, and his own, floating out upon the lake,
+told him the tale, and without a word he turned and, plunging into the
+undergrowth, leaping like a deer over rock and chasm, vanished at the
+top of the ridge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+  "The man that won't bear watchin' needs it."
+  --Old Cy Walker.
+
+While Chip, bound, gagged, and helpless in the half-breed's canoe,
+was just entering the alder-choked outlet of this lake, twenty miles
+below and close to where the stream entered another lake, four men were
+launching their canoes.
+
+"It was here," Martin was saying to Hersey, "one moonlight night a
+year ago, that a friend of mine and myself saw a spectral man astride
+a log, just entering that bed of reeds, as I told you. Who or what it
+was, we could not guess; but as that spook canoeman went up this stream,
+we followed and discovered our hermit's home."
+
+"Night-time and moonshine play queer pranks with our imagination,"
+Hersey responded. "I'm not a whit superstitious, and yet I've many
+a time seen what I thought to be a hunter creeping along the lake shore
+at night, and I once came near plugging a fat man in a shadowy glen. I
+was up on a cliff watching down into it, the day was cloudy, and 'way
+below I saw what I was sure was a bear crawling along the bank of the
+stream. I had my rifle raised and was only waiting for a better sight,
+when up rose the bear and I saw a human face. For a moment it made me
+faint, and since then I make doubly sure before shooting at any object
+in the woods."
+
+And now these four men, Levi wielding the stern paddle of Martin's
+canoe, and Hersey's deputy that of his, entered the broad, winding
+stream. The tall spruce-tops meeting darkened its currentless course,
+long filaments of white moss depended from every limb, and as they
+twisted and turned up this sombre highway, the air grew stifling. Not
+a breeze, not a sound, disturbed the solemn silence, and except for the
+swish of paddles and faint thud as they touched gunwales, the fall of a
+leaf might have been heard. So dense was this dark, silent forest,
+and so forbidding its effect, that for an hour no one scarce spoke,
+and even when the two canoes finally drew together, converse came in
+whispers. Another hour of steady progress, and then the banks began to
+outline themselves ahead, the trees opened more, a sign of current was
+met, and the sun lit up their pathway.
+
+By now the spectral beard had vanished from the trees, white clouds were
+reflected from the still waters, and the gleam of sandy bottom was seen
+below. The birds, inspired perhaps by the absence of gloom, also added
+their cheering notes, Nature was smiling once more, and not a hint or
+even intuition of the fast-nearing tragedy met those men.
+
+And then, as a broad, eddying bend in the stream held their canoes, by
+tacit consent a halt was made.
+
+Martin, his paddle crossed on the thwarts in front, dipped a cup of
+the cool, sweet water and drank. Levi wiped the sweat from his face, and
+Hersey also quenched his thirst. The day was hot. They had paddled ten
+miles. There was no hurry, and as pipes were drawn forth and filled,
+conversation began. But just at this moment Levi's ears, ever alert,
+caught the faint sound of a paddle striking a canoe gunwale. Not as
+usual, in an intermittent fashion, as would be the case with a skilled
+canoeist, but a steady, rhythmic thud.
+
+"Hist," he said, and silence fell upon the group.
+
+In the wilderness all sounds are noticed and noted, by night especially,
+because then they may mean a bear crawling softly through the
+undergrowth, or a wildcat, yellow-eyed and vicious, creeping near. But by
+day as well they are always heeded, and the crackle of a twig, or the
+sound of a deer's foot striking a stone, or any slight noise, becomes
+of keen interest.
+
+And now, from far ahead, came the steady tap, tap, tap. It soon
+increased, and then it assured those waiting, listening men that some
+canoe was being urged down-stream.
+
+Without a word they glanced at one another, and then, as if an intuition
+came to both at the same time, Martin and Hersey reached for their rifles.
+
+On and on came the steady thump, thump.
+
+Just ahead the stream narrowed and curved out of sight. A few foam flecks
+from an unseen rill above floated down. The white sandy bottom showed
+in the clear water.
+
+And then, as those stern-faced, watching, listening men, rifles in hand,
+almost side by side, waited there, out from behind this bend shot a canoe.
+
+"My God, it's Pete Bolduc! Look out!" almost yelled Levi, and "Halt!
+Surrender!" from Hersey, as two rifles were levelled at the oncomer.
+Then one instant's sight of a red and scarred face, a quick reach for
+a rifle, a splash of water, an overturned canoe, and with a curse the
+astonished half-breed dived into the undergrowth.
+
+Two rifles spoke almost at the same instant from the waiting canoes, one
+answered from out the thicket. A thrashing, struggling something in the
+filled canoe next caught all eyes, and Levi, leaping into the waist-deep
+stream, grasped and lifted a dripping form.
+
+It was Chip!
+
+A brief yet bloodless tragedy, all over in less time than the telling;
+yet a lifetime of horror had been endured by that waif, for as Levi bore
+her to the bank, cut the thongs that bound her, and freed her mouth from
+a pad of deerskin, she grasped his hand and kissed it.
+
+And then came another surprise; for down a sloping, thick-grown hillside,
+something was heard thrashing, and soon Old Tomah, his clothing in
+shreds, his face bleeding, appeared to view.
+
+Calculating to a nicety where he could best intercept and head off the
+escaping half-breed, he had crossed four miles of pathless undergrowth
+in less than an hour, and reached the stream at the nearest point after
+it left the lake.
+
+How Chip, still sobbing from the awful agony of mind, and dripping
+water as well, greeted Old Tomah; how Hersey, chagrined at the escape of
+the half-breed, gave vent to muttered curses; how Martin joined them
+in thought; and how they all gathered around Chip and listened to her
+tale of horror, are but minor features of the episode, and not worth
+the telling.
+
+When all was said and done, Old Tomah, grim and silent as ever, although
+he had done what no white man could do or would try to do, washed his
+bloody face in the stream, drank his fill of the cool water, and lifting
+Pete's half-filled canoe as easily as if it were a shingle, tipped
+it, turned the water out, and set it on the sloping bank.
+
+"Me take you back and watch you now," he said to Chip. "You no get
+caught again."
+
+And thus convoyed, poor Chip, willing to clasp and caress the feet or
+legs of any or all of those men, and more grateful than any dog ever was
+for a caress, was escorted back to the lake.
+
+All those waiting at the cabin were at the landing when the rescuers
+arrived. Angie, her eyes brimming, first embraced and then kissed the
+girl. Ray would have felt it a proud privilege to have carried her to the
+cabin, and Old Cy's wrinkled face showed more joy than ever gladdened
+it in all his life before.
+
+Somehow this hapless waif had grown dearer to them all than she or they
+understood.
+
+There was also feasting and rejoicing that night at Martin's wildwood
+home, and mingled with it all an oft-repeated tale.
+
+Old Cy told one end of it in his droll way, Martin related the other,
+and Chip filled up the interim. Levi had his say, and Hersey supplied
+more or less--mostly more--of this half-breed's history.
+
+Old Tomah, however, said nothing. To him, who lived in the past of a
+bygone race which looked upon lumbermen as devastating vandals ever
+eating into its kingdom, and whose thoughts were upon the happy
+hunting-grounds soon to be entered, this half-breed's lust and
+cunning were as the fall of the leaf. Were it needful he would, as he
+had, plunge through bramble and brier and leap over rock and chasm to
+rescue his big pappoose, but now that she was safe again, he lapsed into
+his stoical reserve once more. Shadowy forms and the mysticism of the
+wilderness were more to his taste than all the pathos of human life;
+and while his eyes kindled at Chip's smile, his thoughts were following
+some storm or tempest sweeping over a vast wilderness, or the rush and
+roar of the great white spectre.
+
+"Chip is good girl," he said to Angie the next morning, "and white
+lady love her. Tomah's heart is like squaw heart, too; but he go away
+and forget. White lady must not forget," and with that mixture of
+tenderness and stoicism he strode away, and the last seen of him was
+when he entered the outlet without once looking back at the cabin where
+his "big pappoose" was kept.
+
+More serious, however, were the facts Martin and Hersey now had to
+consider, and a council of war, as it were, was now held with Levi, Old
+Cy, and the deputy as advisers.
+
+What the half-breed would now do, and in what way they could now capture
+him were, of course, discussed, and as usual in such cases, it was of
+no avail, because they were dealing with absolutely unknown quantities.
+The facts were these: Bolduc, a cunning criminal, fearless of all
+law, had set his heart upon the possession of this girl. Her story,
+unquestionably true, that he had paid a large sum for this right and
+title, must inevitably make him feel that he would have what was his at
+any cost. His first attempt at securing her had been thwarted. He had
+been shot at by minions of the law,--an act sure to make him more
+vengeful,--his canoe had been taken, and what with the loss of the
+girl, money, and canoe also, one of his stamp would surely be driven to
+extreme revenge.
+
+He was now at large in this wilderness, knew where the girl and his
+enemies were, and as Hersey said, "He had the drop on them."
+
+"I believe in standing by our guns," that officer continued, after all
+these conclusions had been admitted. "We are here to rid the woods of
+this scoundrel. We have five good rifles and know how to use them. The
+law is on our side, for he refused to surrender, and returned our shots;
+and if I catch sight of him, I shall shoot to cripple, anyway."
+
+Old Cy's advice, however, was more pacific.
+
+"My notion is this feller's a cowardly cuss," he said, "a sort o'
+human hyena. He'll never show himself in the open, but come prowlin'
+'round nights, stealin' anything he can. He may take a pop at some on
+us from a-top o' the ridge; but I callate he'll never venture within
+gunshot daytimes. His sort is allus more skeered o' us'n we need be
+o' him."
+
+In spite of Old Cy's conclusions, however, the camp remained in a state
+of siege that day and many days following.
+
+Angie and Chip seldom strayed far from the cabin. Ray assumed the
+water-bringing, night and morning. Old Cy and Levi patrolled the
+premises, while Martin, Hersey, and his deputy hunted a little for game
+and a good deal for moccasined footprints or a sight or a sign of this
+half-breed.
+
+Hersey, more especially, made him his object of pursuit. He had come
+here for that purpose, his pride and reputation were at stake, and
+the thousand dollars Martin had agreed to pay was a minor factor. He
+and his mate passed hours in the mornings and late in the afternoon
+watching from wide apart outlooks on the ridge. They made long jaunts
+up the brook valley to where the smoke sign had been seen, they found
+where this half-breed had built a fire here, and later another lair,
+a mile from the cabins and in this ridge. Long detours they made in
+other directions. Old Tomah's trail through the forest was crossed;
+but neither in forest nor on lake shore were any recent footprints of
+the half-breed found. Old ones were discovered in plenty. An almost
+beaten trail led from his lair in the ridge to a crevasse back of the
+cabins, but to one well versed in wood tracks, it was easy to tell how
+old these tracks were.
+
+A freshly made trail in the forest bears unmistakable evidence of its
+date, and no woodwise man ever confounds a two or three days' old one
+with it. One footprint may not determine this occult fact; but followed
+to where the moss is spongy or the earth moist, a matter of hours, even,
+can be decided.
+
+A week of this watchfulness, with no sign of their enemy's return, not
+even to within the circuit patrolled time and again, began to relieve
+suspense and awaken curiosity. They had been so sure, especially Martin,
+that he would come back for revenge, that now it was hard to account for
+his not doing so.
+
+"My idee is he got so skeered at them two shots," Old Cy asserted,
+"he hain't stopped runnin' yit." And then the old man chuckled at
+the ludicrous picture of this pernicious "varmint" scampering through
+a wilderness from fright.
+
+But Old Cy was wrong. It was not fear that saved them from a prompt
+visitation from this half-breed, but lack of means of defence. The one
+shot remaining in his rifle at the moment of meeting had been sent on
+its vengeful errand, all the rest of his ammunition was in his canoe, and
+now on the bottom of the stream. Being thus crippled for means to act,
+the only course left to him was a return to his cabin seventy-five miles
+away, with only a hunting-knife to sustain life with.
+
+Even to a skilled hunter and trapper like him, this was no easy task. It
+meant at least a week's journey through almost impassable swamps and
+undergrowth, with frogs, raw fish, roots, and berries for food.
+
+How that half-breed, unconscious that the mills of God had ground him
+the grist he deserved, fought his way through this pathless wilderness;
+how he ate mice and frogs to sustain his worthless life; how he cursed
+McGuire as the original cause of his wretched plight and Martin's party
+as aids; and how many times he swore he would kill every one of them,
+needs no description.
+
+He lived to reach his hut on the Fox Hole, and from that moment on, this
+wilderness held an implacable enemy of McGuire's, sworn to kill him,
+first of all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+  "The biggest fool is the man that thinks he knows it all."
+  --Old Cy Walker.
+
+For two weeks the little party at Birch Camp first watched and then
+began to enjoy themselves once more. September had come, the first
+tint of autumn colored every patch of hardwood, a mellow haze softened
+the outline of each green-clad hill and mountain, the sun rose red and
+sailed an unclouded course each day, and gentle breezes rippled the
+lake. The forest, the sky, the air and earth, all seemed in harmonious
+mood, and the one discordant note, fear of this half-breed, slowly
+vanished.
+
+Chip resumed her hour of study each day; a little fishing and hunting
+was indulged in by Martin and the two officers; wild ducks, partridges,
+deer, and trout supplied their table; each evening all gathered about
+the open fire in Martin's new cabin, and while the older people chatted,
+Ray took his banjo or whispered with Chip.
+
+These two, quite unguessed by Angie, had become almost lovers, and as it
+was understood Chip was to be taken to Greenvale, all that wonder-world,
+to her, had been described by Ray many times. He also outlined many
+little plans for sleigh-rides, skating on the mill-pond, and dances
+which he and she were to enjoy together.
+
+His own future and livelihood were a little hazy to him. These matters do
+not impress a youth of eighteen; but of one thing he felt sure,--that
+Chip with her rosy face and black eyes, always tender to him, was to
+be his future companion in all pleasures. It was love among the spruce
+trees, a summer idyl made tender by the dangers interrupting it, and
+hidden from all eyes except Old Cy's, who was these young friends'
+favorite.
+
+How many times he had taken these two over the ridge during the first
+two weeks, and picked berries while they played at it, or crossed the
+lake in his canoe to leave them on the shore while he cast for trout,
+no one but himself knew, and he wasn't telling.
+
+Even now, with these two strangers about, Old Cy, Chip, and Ray somehow
+seemed to "flock by themselves." Old Cy took them canoeing. They
+paddled up streams entering the lake. He showed them where muskrats
+were house-building, where mink had runways, and otter had sliding
+spots; and to forestall a plan of his own, he enlarged upon the fun
+and profit of trapping here when the time came. If these two young
+doves cooed a little meantime, he never heard it; if they held hands
+unduly long, he never saw it; and if they exchanged kisses behind his
+back--well, it was their own loss if they didn't.
+
+But these days of mingled romance and tragic happenings, of shooting,
+fishing, story-telling, and wildwood life, were nearing their end, and
+one evening Martin announced that on the morrow they would pack their
+belongings and, escorted by the officers, leave the wilderness.
+
+The next morning Old Cy took Ray aside.
+
+"I want a good square talk with ye, my boy," he said, "an' I'm
+goin' to do ye a good turn if I kin. Now to begin, I s'pose ye know
+yer aunt's goin' to take Chip to Greenvale 'n' gin her a chance at
+the schoolin' she sartinly needs. Now you're callatin' to go 'long
+'n' have a heap o' fun this winter. I'm goin' to stay here 'n'
+keer for Amzi. This is the situation 'bout as it is. Now you hev got yer
+eddication, 'n' the next move is to make yer way in the world 'n'
+arn suthin', an' ez a starter, I want ye to stay here this winter
+with me 'n' trap. The woods round here is jist bristlin' with spruce
+gum that is worth a dollar-fifty a pound, easy. We've got two months
+now, 'fore snow gits deep. We kin live on the top shelf in the way
+o' fish 'n' game. We'll ketch a b'ar and pickle his meat 'n'
+smoke his hams, and when spring comes, I'll take ye out with mebbe
+five hundred dollars' worth of furs 'n' gum ez a beginnin'.
+
+"Thar's also 'nother side to consider. Chip wants schoolin', 'n'
+she's got to study night 'n' day fer the next eight months. If you
+go back with 'em, an' go gallivantin' 'round with her, ez you're
+sure to, it won't be no help to her. I've given you two all the chances
+fer weavin' the threads o' 'fect-shun I could this summer, an' now
+let's you 'n' I turn to and make some money. I've asked your uncle
+'n' aunt. They're willin', 'n' now, what do ye say?"
+
+Few country boys with a love for trapping, such as Ray had, ever had a
+more alluring prospect spread before them. He knew Old Cy was right in
+all his conclusions, and almost without hesitation he agreed to the plan.
+
+It was far-sighted wisdom on Old Cy's part, however, in not giving
+Ray time to reflect, else the magnet of Chip's eyes on the one hand,
+and eight months of separation on the other, would have proved too
+strong, and trap-setting and gum-gathering, with five hundred dollars as
+reward, would have failed.
+
+As it was, he came near weakening at the last moment when the canoes were
+packed and Angie and Chip came to take their seats in them.
+
+He and his crude, rude, yet winsome little sweetheart had suffered a
+brief preliminary parting the evening previous. A good many sweet and
+silly nothings had been exchanged, also promises, and now the boy's
+heart was very sore.
+
+Chip was more stoical. Her life at Tim's Place and contact with Old
+Tomah had taught her reserve, and yet when she turned for the last
+possible look at Old Cy and Ray, waving good-bye at the landing, a mist
+of tears hid them.
+
+Old Cy's face was also a study. To him these parting clouds were as the
+white ones hiding the sun; yet he felt their chill. His own life shadow
+was lengthening. He had now but a brief renewal of youth in the lives
+of these two, and then forgetfulness, as he knew full well, and yet he
+pitied them.
+
+More than that, he had set his hand to guiding the bark of their young
+lives into the safe harbor of a home, and all feelings of his own
+subserved to that.
+
+"Come, come, my boy," he said to Ray as the two turned away, and he
+noted the lad's sad face, "she's gone now, an' ye'd best ferget her
+fer a spell. Ye won't, I know, 'n' she won't; but ye'd best make
+believe ye do. This ain't no spot fer love-sick spells. We've got work
+to do, 'n' money to arn; ye've got the chance o' yer life now, an'
+me to help ye to it, so brace up 'n' look cheerful.
+
+"Think o' what we got to do to git ready fer winter 'n' six foot
+o' snow. Think o' the traps we're goin' to set, an' the fun o'
+tendin' 'em. Why, girls ain't in it a minnit with ketchin' mink,
+marten, otter, an' now 'n' then a lynx or bobcat. Then when ye go
+back with a new suit 'n' money in yer pocket, ye'll feel prouder'n a
+peacock, 'n' Chip a-smilin' at ye sweeter'n new maple syrup."
+
+Verily Old Cy had the wisdom of age and the cheerfulness of morning
+sunshine.
+
+All that day these wilderness-marooned friends worked hard. An ample
+stock of birch wood must be cut and split, a shed of poles to cover it
+must be erected alongside of the cabin, the hermit's log hut was to
+be divested of its fittings, which were to be removed to the new cabin
+which all were now to occupy.
+
+Realizing how vital to their existence the canoes were, Old Cy had also
+planned a shelter of small logs for them on one side of the log cabin,
+that could be locked. Here the canoes not in use must be stored at once
+to guard against a night call from the malignant half-breed. His canoe
+had been taken along by Martin's party, to be left at Tim's Place, for
+even Hersey would have scorned to appropriate it.
+
+There were dozens of other needs to prepare for during the next two
+months, all of which were important. An ample supply of deer meat must be
+secured, to be pickled and smoked. All the partridges they could shoot
+would be needed, and later, when south-bound ducks halted at the lake, a
+few of these would add to their larder.
+
+In this connection, also, another need occurred to Old Cy. Trout could be
+caught all winter in the lake, but live bait must be had, and so a
+slat car to be sunk in some swift-running stream, which would hold
+them, must be constructed, also a scoop of mosquito net to catch them.
+These minnows were to be found now by the million in every brook, and
+forethought was Old Cy's watchword.
+
+All these duties and details he discussed that first day with Ray, while
+they worked, for a purpose.
+
+But the first evening here, with its open fire, yet empty seats, was the
+hardest to pass. In vain Old Cy enlarged upon the joys of trap-setting
+once more, and how and where they were to secure gum. In vain he
+described how deadfalls were built and where they must be placed,
+how many signs of lynx and wildcat he had seen that summer, and how
+sure they were to secure some of these valuable furs.
+
+Ray's heart was not here. Far away in some night camp, Chip was thinking
+of him. He knew each day would bear her farther away. No word of her
+safe arrival could reach them now. Long months must elapse ere he and she
+could meet again, and in prospect they seemed an eternity.
+
+"Come, git yer banjo, my boy," Old Cy ejaculated at last, seeing Ray's
+face grow gloomy. "Tune 'er up, an' play us suthin' lively. None
+o' them goody-goody weepin' sort o' tunes; but give us 'Money Musk'
+'n' a few jigs. I'm feelin' our prospects are so cheerful, I'd
+like to cut a few pigeon-wings out o' compliment."
+
+But Old Cy's hilarity was nearly all put on. He, too, felt the effect
+of the empty seats and missed every one that had gone, and Ray's jig
+tunes lacked their spirit. He essayed a few, and then quite unconsciously
+his fingers strayed to "My Old Kentucky Home," and Old Cy's feelings
+responded.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+  "I jist nachly hate a person that talks as tho' he'd bin
+  measured fer a harp."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Chip's arrival in Greenvale produced astonishment and gossip galore. It
+began when the stage that "Uncle Joe" Barnes had driven for twenty
+years started for that village. There were other passengers besides
+Martin, his wife, and Chip. The seats inside were soon filled, and Chip,
+seeing a coveted chance, climbed nimbly to a position beside the driver.
+
+"Gee Whittaker," observed one bystander to another, as Chip's
+black-stockinged legs flashed into view, "but that gal's nimbler'n
+a squirrel 'n' don't mind showin' underpinnin'. I wished I was
+drivin' that stage. I'll bet she's a circus."
+
+Uncle Joe soon found her a live companion at least, for he had scarce
+left the village ere she began.
+
+"Your hosses are fatter'n Tim's hosses used to be," she said. "Do
+ye feed 'em on hay and taters?"
+
+Uncle Joe gave her a sideways glance.
+
+"Hay and taters," he exclaimed; "we don't feed hosses on taters down
+here. Where'd you come from?"
+
+"I used to live at Tim's Place, up in the woods, 'n' we fed our
+hosses on taters, 'n' they had backs sharp 'nuff to split ye."
+
+This time Uncle Joe faced squarely around.
+
+"I know all about hosses," she continued glibly, "I used to take keer
+on 'em 'n' ride one ploughin', an' I've been throwed more'n a
+hundred times when we struck roots, an' ye ought to 'a' heerd Tim
+cuss. I used to cuss just the same, but Mrs. Frisbie says I mustn't."
+
+"Wal, I swow," ejaculated Uncle Joe, realizing that he had a "case."
+"What's your name, 'n' whar's Tim's Place?"
+
+"My name's Chip, Chip McGuire, only 'tain't, it's Vera; but they
+allus called me Chip, an' Tim's Place is ever so far up in the woods.
+I runned away 'cause dad sold me, an' fetched up at Mrs. Frisbie's
+camp, 'n' she's goin' to eddicate me. My mother got killed when I
+was a kid, 'n' my dad killed 'nother one, too; he's a bad 'un."
+
+Uncle Joe gasped at this gory tale of double murder, not being quite sure
+that the girl was sane.
+
+"Hain't they ketched yer dad yit?" he queried.
+
+"No, nor they won't," Chip rattled on, as if such killing were a daily
+occurrence in the woods. "He's a slick 'un, they say, an' now he's
+got Pete's money, he'll lay low."
+
+"Worse and worse, and more of it," Uncle Joe thought.
+
+"You must 'a' had middlin' lively times up in the woods," he said.
+"Did yer dad kill anybody else 'sides yer mother 'n' this man?"
+
+"He didn't kill mother," Chip returned promptly; "he used to lick
+her, though, but she got killed in a mill, 'n' I wisht it 'ud bin him.
+I wouldn't 'a' bin an orfin then. Say," she added, as they entered
+a woods-bordered stretch of road, "did ye ever see spites here?"
+
+"Spites," he responded, now more than ever in doubt as to her sanity,
+"what's them?"
+
+"Why, they's just spites--things ye can't see much of 'ceptin' it's
+dark. Then they come crawlin' round. They's souls o' animals mostly,
+Old Tomah says. I've seen thousands on 'em."
+
+Uncle Joe shifted his quid, turned and eyed the girl once more. First,
+a wild and wofully mixed tale of murder, and then spookish things! Beyond
+question she had wheels, and he resolved to humor her.
+
+"Oh, yes, we see them things here now 'n' then," he said, "but it
+takes considerable licker to do it. We hain't had a murder, though, for
+quite a spell. This is a sorter peaceful neck o' woods ye're comin'
+to."
+
+But Chip failed to grasp his quiet humor, and all through that
+twenty-mile autumn day stage ride she chattered on like a magpie.
+
+He soon concluded she was sane enough, however, but the most voluble
+talker who ever shared his seat.
+
+"I never seen the beat o' her," he said that night at Phinney's
+store,--the village news agency,--"she clacked every minit from the
+time we started till we fetched in, an' I never callated sich goin's
+on ez she told about cud ever happen. Thar was murder 'n' runnin'
+away, 'n' she got ketched 'n' carried off 'n' fetched back, 'n'
+a whole lot o' resky business. She believes in ghosts, too, sorter
+Injun sperits, 'n' she kin swear jist ez easy ez I kin. It seems
+the Frisbies hev kinder 'dopted her, 'n' I guess they'll hev their
+hands full. She's a bright 'un, though, but sich a talker!"
+
+At Aunt Comfort's spacious, old-fashioned home, where Chip was now
+installed, she soon began to create the same impression. This had been
+Angie's former home, and her Aunt Comfort Day had been her foster-mother.
+
+This family, in addition to the new arrival, consisted of Aunt Comfort,
+rotund and warm-hearted; Hannah Pettibone, a well-along spinster of
+angular form and temper, thin to an almost painful degree, with a
+well-defined mustache; and a general helper on the farm, and a chore
+boy about Chip's age named Nezer, completed the list.
+
+Once included in this somewhat diverse group, Chip became an immediate
+bone of contention.
+
+Aunt Comfort, of course, opened her heart to her at once; but Hannah
+closed hers, almost from the first day, and in addition she began to
+nurse malice as well. There was some reason for this, mainly due to
+Chip's startling freshness of speech.
+
+"I thought ye must be a man wearin' wimmin's clothes, the first time I
+see ye," she said to Hannah the next day after her arrival, and without
+meaning offence. "It was all on account o' yer little whiskers, I
+guess. I never see a woman with 'em afore. Why don't ye shave?"
+
+This was enough; for if there was any one thing more mortifying than
+all else to Hannah, it was her facial blemish, and a mention of it she
+considered an intentional insult.
+
+From this moment onward she hated Chip.
+
+Nezer, however, took to her as a duck to water, and her story, which
+he soon heard, became a real dime novel to him, and not content with
+one telling, he insisted on repetition. This was also unfortunate
+for--blessed with a vivid imagination and sure to enlarge upon all
+facts--he soon spread the story with many blood-curdling additions.
+
+These stories, with Uncle Joe's corroboration, resulted in a direful
+tale believed by all. Neighbors flocked in to see this heroine of many
+escapades, villagers halted in front of Aunt Comfort's to catch a sight
+of this marvel, and so the wonder spread.
+
+Angie was, of course, to blame. More impressed with the seriousness of
+the task she had undertaken than the need of caution, she had failed to
+tell Chip she must not talk about herself, and so a wofully distorted
+history became current gossip.
+
+When Sunday came, the village church was packed, and Parson Jones
+marvelled much at the unexpected increase of religious interest. He
+had heard of this new arrival, but when the Frisbie family with Chip,
+in suitable clothing, entered their pew, the cynosure of all eyes,
+this unusual attendance was accounted for.
+
+And what a staring-at Chip received!
+
+On the church steps a group of both young and old men had awaited her
+arrival and gazed at her in open-eyed astonishment. All through service
+she was watched, and not content with this, a dozen or so, men and women,
+formed a double line outside, awaiting the Frisbies' exit.
+
+Angie also failed to understand the principal cause of this interest. Her
+last appearance at this church had been as a bride. Naturally that fact
+would produce some staring, and so the curious and almost rude scrutiny
+the family received, was less noticed by her.
+
+But Chip's eyes were observant.
+
+"I don't like goin' to meetin'," she said, "an' bein' stared at
+like I was a wildcat. I seen 'em grinnin', too, some on 'em, when we
+went in, an' one feller winked to another. What ailed 'em?"
+
+Her vexations, however, had only just begun, for Angie had seen and made
+arrangements with Miss Phinney, one of the village school-teachers, and
+the next morning Chip was sent to school. And now real trouble commenced.
+
+Not knowing more than how to read and spell short words, and unable to
+write, she, a fairly well-developed young lady, presented a problem
+which was hard for a teacher to solve. To put her in the class where she
+belonged was absurd. She must sit with older girls, or look ridiculous.
+If she recited with the eight-year-old children, the result would be
+the same, and so a species of private tuition with recitations at noon or
+after school became the only possible course and the one her teacher
+adopted.
+
+This also carried its vexations, for Chip was as tall as Miss Phinney
+and a little larger. Not one of that band of pupils was over twelve.
+To join in their games was no sport for Chip, while they, having heard
+about her thrilling experiences, with a hint that she wasn't quite right
+in her head, felt afraid of her.
+
+"I feel so sorry for her," Miss Phinney explained to Angie, a week
+later, "and yet, I don't know what to do. She is so big the children
+won't play with her, or she with them. I am the only one with whom she
+will talk, and she seems so humble and so grateful for every word. I
+can't be as stern with her or govern her as I should, on account of her
+temper and size.
+
+"Only yesterday I heard screaming at recess, and going out, I found
+that Chip had one of the girls by the hair and was cuffing her. It
+transpired that this girl had called her an Indian and asked if she had
+ever scalped anybody. I can't punish such a pupil, and I can't help
+loving her, so you see she is a sore trial."
+
+She also became a trial to Angie in countless ways.
+
+Of a deep religious conviction, and believing this waif needed to be
+brought into the fold, Angie set about that task at once. But Chip was
+impervious to such instruction. By no argument or persuasion could
+Angie force her protegee to renounce her belief in the heathenism of
+Old Tomah, or convince her that God and the angels were any different
+from his collection of spirit forms, or that heaven was anything more
+than another name for his happy hunting-grounds. Old Tomah had been her
+wise and only friend, so far. She had seen all the ghostly forms he had
+described, had felt all the occult influences which he said existed,
+and neither coaxing nor derision served to make her disown them.
+
+Of course, Angie took her to church regularly. She sat through services
+and bowed as all did. Sabbath-school instruction would have been forced
+upon her but for the reason that made her a class of one under Miss
+Phinney, and Parson Jones's attention was finally enlisted.
+
+He spent an hour in pointing out her heathenish sins, assured her that
+Old Tomah was a wicked reprobate and an ignorant savage combined, that
+all influences so far surrounding her had been the worst possible,--a
+self-evident fact,--and unless she confessed a change of heart, and
+soon, too, all her friends here would desert her and the devil would
+overtake her by and by, and then closed this well-intended effort with a
+prayer.
+
+Chip sat through it all, mute and cowering. The parson's white hair,
+sharp eyes, and solemn voice awed her, and when he had departed, she
+began to cry.
+
+"I don't see the need o' makin' me say I don't believe suthin' when
+I do," she said. "I've seen spites 'n' I know I've seen 'em, an'
+nobody can make me believe Old Tomah a bad man, if he is an Injun. He
+runned after me when I got ketched, 'n' near got his eyes scratched
+out"--a logic it was useless to contend with.
+
+"You're jest a little spunky devil," Hannah said to her later on with
+a vicious accent, "an' if I was Mrs. Frisbie I'd larrup ye till ye
+confessed penitence, I would. The idee o' you settin' thar a-mullin'
+all the time the minister was tryin' to save ye! It's scand'lus!"
+
+And that night Chip was back in the wilderness with Old Cy and Ray in
+thought, and so homesick for them that she cried herself to sleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+  "While yer argufyin' with a fool, jes' figger thar's two on
+  'em."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+The streams and swamps contiguous to this lake were well adapted for the
+habitat of mink, muskrat, otter, fisher, and those large fur-bearing
+animals, the lynx and lucivee, and here a brief description of where
+such animals exist, and how they are caught, may be of interest.
+
+The habits of the muskrat, the least cunning of these, are so well
+known that they merit only a few words. They are amphibious animals,
+their food is succulent roots, bulbs, and bark, and they frequent small,
+marshy ponds, sluggish streams, and swamps. In summer they conceal
+themselves by burrowing into soft banks; in winter they erect houses
+of sedge-grass, roots, and mud, and are caught in small steel traps
+set in shallow water at the entrance of their paths out of lake or stream.
+
+Mink, marten, otter, and fisher are much alike in shape and habit. All
+belong to the same family, but vary in size, also slightly in the matter
+of food. Mink and marten live on fish, frogs, birds, mice, etc.; otter on
+fish and roots; and fishers, as their name implies, subsist largely on
+fish. All these are more valuable fur-bearing animals than muskrats.
+Their abiding places are swamps and shallow streams, in the banks of
+which they burrow, and they are usually caught in steel traps baited
+with fish or meat.
+
+The lucivee, or lynx, and bobcat, more ferocious and cunning than their
+smaller cousins, roam the woods and swamps, live on smaller animals,
+hide in caves, crevices, and hollow trees, and they as well as otter
+occasionally are caught in deadfalls.
+
+Old Cy, familiar as he was with the homes, habits, and the manner of
+catching these cunning animals, soon began his trap-setting campaign.
+A few dozen steel traps were first set along the stream and lagoons
+entering the lake, and then he and Ray pushed up Beaver Brook, and
+leaving their canoe, followed its narrow valley in search of suitable
+spots to set the more elaborated deadfalls, which also merit description.
+
+A deadfall is made by placing one end of a suitably sized log--one
+perhaps fifteen feet long and a foot in diameter--on a figure four trap,
+so adjusted that its spindle end, to which the bait is secured, shall
+be poised beneath the upraised end of the log. Alongside of this log
+a double row of stakes is driven to form a pen with entrance leading
+to the bait. When this deadly contrivance is properly adjusted, the
+log and its pen of stakes is concealed with green boughs piled lightly
+over it, and all the hungry lynx sees is a narrow opening under green
+boughs, and in it a tempting morsel awaiting him. As those creatures,
+as well as now and then an otter, are sure to roam up and down all
+small streams, a spot where one emerges from a narrow defile, or joins a
+larger one, is usually selected for a deadfall.
+
+It is also quite a task to clear a suitable space, fell a right-sized
+tree, and construct one of these penlike traps; and although Old Cy and
+Ray started early, it was mid-afternoon that day ere they had the third
+one ready and awaiting its possible victim.
+
+As gum-gathering was also a part of their season's plan, they now left
+the swamp valley, and, ascending the spruce-clad upland, began this work,
+which is also worthy of description.
+
+The chewing gum of commerce, so delightful to schoolgirls and small boys,
+is the refined, diluted, and sweetened product of gum nuts, or the small
+excrescences of spruce sap that exudes and hardens around knot-holes and
+cracks in the bark of those trees. These form into hardened nuts or
+knobs of gum, from the size of a hazelnut to that of butternut, and
+are worth from a dollar to a dollar and fifty cents a pound. A long pole
+with a sharpened knife or chisel fastened to its tip is used by gum
+seekers. It can be gathered from the time frost first hardens it until
+spring, and to gather three to five pounds is considered a good day's
+work.
+
+Ray's first attempt at this labor seemed like nut-gathering at home,
+only more romantic, and when they were well into the vast spruce growth
+bordering one side of the Beaver Brook valley, he became so interested in
+hunting for the brown knobs, loosening them, and picking them up that
+he would have soon lost all points of the compass, except for Old Cy.
+
+There is also a spice of danger seasoning this pursuit. A wildcat might
+at any moment be seen watching from the crotch of a tree, or a bear might
+suddenly emerge from the thicket. It was hard work also, for while some
+parts of a spruce forest may be free from undergrowth, not all portions
+are, and this tangle is one not easy to move about in.
+
+There was also another element that entered into the trapping and
+gum-gathering life,--the possible return of the half-breed.
+
+"He hain't nothin' agin us," Old Cy asserted, when the question came
+up. "We didn't chase him the day he stole Chip, 'n' yet I s'pose
+he'll show up some day, 'n' mebbe do us harm."
+
+It was this fear that had led Old Cy to leave one of their canoes in a
+log locker, securely barred, and also to caution the hermit to remain
+on guard at the cabin while he and Ray were away.
+
+A canoe is the one most vital need of a wildwood life, for the reason
+that the streams are the only avenues of escape and afford the only
+opportunities for travel.
+
+The wilderness, of course, can be traversed, but not easily. Swamps
+will be met and must be avoided, for a wilderness swamp is practically
+impassable. Streams can be forded, but lakes must be encompassed,
+and even an upland forest is but a tangled jungle of fallen trees and
+undergrowth.
+
+Old Cy knew, or at least he felt almost sure, that the half-breed would
+return in good time. He had also reasoned out his failure to do so at
+once, and knew that left canoeless, as he had been that tragic day, his
+only course must be the one he actually followed. A month had elapsed
+since then, with no sign of this "varmint's" return, and now Old Cy
+was on the watch for it.
+
+Each morning, when he traversed the lake shore from ice-house to landing,
+he looked for tell-tale footprints. He watched for them wherever he went,
+and the distant report of a rifle would have been accepted as a sure
+harbinger of this enemy.
+
+It became their custom now each day, first to visit all small traps
+in the near-by streams, then pushing their canoe as far as possible
+up the Beaver Brook, to leave it, continue up the valley, and after
+inspecting their deadfalls, turn to the right out of this swale, and
+begin the gathering of gum.
+
+And now, one day, in carrying out this programme, a discovery was made.
+
+They had first visited the small traps near the lake, securing a couple
+of mink and three muskrats, which were left in the canoe. An otter was
+found in one of the deadfalls, and taking this with them, they entered
+the spruce timber and hung it on a conspicuous limb. Then the search for
+gum began.
+
+As usual, they worked hard. The days were short, the best of sunlight
+was needful to see the brown nuts in the sombre forest, and so they
+paid no heed to aught except what was overhead. When time to return
+arrived, Old Cy picked up his rifle and led the way back to where the
+otter had been left, but it had vanished. Glancing about to make sure
+that he was right, he advanced to the tree, looked down, and saw two
+footprints. Stooping over to examine them better in the uncertain light,
+he noted also that they were not his own, but larger, and made by some
+one wearing boots.
+
+"Tain't the half-breed," he muttered, with an accent of relief, and
+looking about, he saw a well-defined trail leading down the slope and
+thence onward toward the swamp.
+
+Some one had crossed this broad, oval, spruce-covered upland while they
+were not two hundred rods away from this tree, had stolen their otter,
+and gone on into the swamp.
+
+Any freshly made human footprint found in a vast wilderness awakens
+curiosity; these seemed ominous.
+
+"He must 'a' seen us 'fore he did the otter," Old Cy ejaculated,
+"an' it's curis he didn't make himself known. Neighbors ain't over
+plenty, hereabout."
+
+But the sun was nearing the tree-tops, the canoe was a mile away, and
+after one more look around, Old Cy started for it. There was no use in
+following this trail now, for it led into the tangled swamp, and so,
+skirting this until a point opposite the canoe was reached, Old Cy and
+Ray then plunged into it.
+
+Twilight had begun to shadow this vale ere the canoe was reached. And
+here was another surprise, for the canoe was found turned half over, and
+on its broad oval bottom was a curious outline of black mud. The light
+was not good here. A fir-grown ledge shadowed the spot; but as Old Cy
+stooped to examine this mud-made emblem, it gradually took shape, and
+he saw--a skull and cross bones!
+
+"Wal, by the Great Horn Spoon!" he exclaimed, "I never s'posed a
+pirate 'ud fetch in here! An' he's swiped our muskrats and mink," he
+added, as he looked under the canoe, "durn him!"
+
+Then the bold bravado of it all occurred to Old Cy. The theft was
+doubtless made by whosoever had taken their otter, and not content
+with robbing them, he had added insult.
+
+"I s'pose we'd orter be grateful he left the paddles 'n' didn't
+smash the canoe," Old Cy continued, turning it over. "I wonder who't
+can be?"
+
+One hasty look around revealed the same boot-marks in the soft earth near
+the stream, and then he and Ray launched their craft and started for home.
+
+"I'm goin' to foller them tracks to-morrer," Old Cy said, when they
+were entering the lake and a light in the cabin just across reassured
+him. "It may be a little resky, but I'm goin' to find out what sorter
+a neighbor we've got."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+  "When a man begins talkin' 'bout himself, it seems as tho'
+  he'd never run down."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+All fellow-sojourners in the wilderness awaken keen interest, and the
+unbroken silence and solitude of a boundless forest make a fellow human
+being one we are glad to accost.
+
+A party of lumbermen wielding axes causes one to turn aside and call on
+them. A sportsman's camp seen on a lake shore or near a stream's bank
+always invites a landing to interview whoever may be there.
+
+All this interest was now felt by Old Cy and Ray, and with it an added
+sense of danger. No friendly hunter or trapper would thus ignore them
+in the woods. This piratically minded thief must have seen them, for
+the spruce-clad oval, perhaps half a mile in width, was comparatively
+free from undergrowth where they had been working. He had crossed it
+within fairly open sight of them, had found the otter hanging from a
+limb, had taken it, and thence on to rob their canoe, daub it with that
+hideous emblem, world-wide in meaning, and then had gone on his way.
+Almost could Old Cy see him watching them from behind trees, skulking
+along when their backs were turned, a low, contemptible thief.
+
+Old Cy knew that bordering this oval ridge on its farther side was a
+swamp, that a stream flowed through it, and surmising that this fellow
+might have come up or down this stream, he left their cabin prepared
+for a two or three days' sojourn away from it, which meant that food,
+blankets, and simple cooking utensils must be taken along.
+
+No halt was made to visit traps. Old Cy was trailing bigger game now;
+and when the point where they had left the canoe the day previous was
+reached, the canoe was pulled out on the stream's bank, the rifles only
+taken, and the trailing began. He followed up the brook valley a little
+way, to find that only one track came down; he then circled about the
+canoe, until, like a hound, he found where the clearly defined trail left
+the swamp again.
+
+Here in the soft carpet under the spruce trees one could follow this
+trail on the run, and here also Old Cy found where this enemy had halted
+beside trees evidently while watching them, as the tracks indicated.
+When the bordering swamp was reached, the trail turned in a westerly
+direction, skirting thus for half a mile, and here, also, evidences of
+skulking along were visible.
+
+Another trail was now come upon, but leading directly over the ridge,
+and just beyond this juncture both the trails now joined, entered the
+swamp, and ended at a lagoon opening out from the stream. Here, also,
+evidences of a canoe having been hauled up into the bog were visible.
+
+"That sneakin' pirate come up this stream," Old Cy observed to Ray, as
+the two stood looking at these unmistakable signs. "He left his canoe
+here 'n' crossed the ridge above us 'n' down to whar we left the
+otter 'n' on to our canoe. Then he come back the way we follered,
+'n' my idee is he had his eye on us most o' the time. I callate he
+has been laughin' ever since at what we'd say when we found that mud
+daub on our canoe, durn him!"
+
+But their canoe was now a half-mile away, and for a little time Old Cy
+looked at the black, currentless stream and considered. Then he glanced
+up at the sun.
+
+"I've a notion we'd best fetch our canoe over here," he said at last,
+"an' follow this thief a spell farther. We may come on to suthin'."
+
+"Won't he shoot at us?" returned Ray, more impressed by this possible
+danger than was Old Cy.
+
+"Wal, mebbe and mebbe not," answered the old man. "Shootin's a game
+two kin play at, an' we've jist ez good a right to foller the stream
+ez he has."
+
+But when their canoe had been carried over and launched in this lagoon,
+Ray's spirits rose. It was an expedition into new waters, somewhat
+venturesome, and for that reason it appealed to him.
+
+Then they had two rifles, Old Cy had taught him to shoot, he had already
+killed one deer and some smaller game, and the go-west-and-kill-Indian
+impulse latent in all boys was a part of Ray's nature. Besides, he had
+an unbounded faith in Old Cy's skill with the rifle.
+
+And now began a canoe journey into and through a vast swamp, the upland
+border of which could scarce be seen. The stream they followed was black,
+and so absolutely motionless that it was a guess which way they were
+going. The mingled hack-matack and alder growth along each bank was so
+dense that no view ahead could be seen, and they must merely follow the
+winding pathway of dark waters and hope to come out somewhere.
+
+For two hours they paddled along this serpentine highway, and then the
+vastness of this morass began to impress them. No sign of current had
+been met. All view of the spruce-grown upland they had left was obscured
+by distance. Now and then a dead tree, bleached and spectral, marked a
+turn in the stream, and hundreds of them, rising all about above the low
+green tangle, added a ghostly haze. It was as if they were venturing into
+a new world--a boundless morass, covered by an impenetrable tangle, and
+made grewsome by the bleaching trunks of dead trees.
+
+"I'm goin' to find which way we're goin'," Old Cy exclaimed at
+last, as they neared a small dead cedar that pointed out over the stream,
+and seizing a projecting limb of this, he broke off bits of dry twigs,
+and tossed them into the stream. For a long moment not one stirred, and
+then at last a movement backward could be discovered.
+
+"We're goin' up-stream, anyhow," he added, glancing at the sun, now
+marking mid-afternoon; "but we've got to git out o' this 'fore dark,
+or we'll be in a bad fix, an' hev to sleep in the canoe."
+
+No halt for dinner had yet been made. They were both faint from need of
+food, and so Old Cy reached for a small wooden pail containing their sole
+supply of provisions. Neither was it a luxurious repast which was now
+eaten. A couple of hard-tacks munched by each and moistened with a cup
+of this swamp water and a bit of dried deer meat was all, and then Old
+Cy lit his pipe, dipped his paddle handle in the stream, and once more
+they pushed on. Soon a low mound of hard soil rose out of the tangle
+just ahead, an oasis in this unvarying mud swamp, and gaping at them
+from amid its cover of scrub birch and cedar stood a deadfall. It faced
+them as they neared this small island, and with log upraised between
+a pen of stakes it much resembled the open mouth of a huge alligator.
+
+"Hain't been built long," Old Cy exclaimed, after they had landed to
+examine it. "I've a notion it's the doin's of our pirate friend,
+an' he's trappin' round about this swamp. He's had good luck lately,
+anyhow, for he's got six o' our pelts to add to his string."
+
+From here onward signs of human presence in this swamp became more
+visible. Now and then an opening cut through the limbs of a lopped-over
+spruce was met; a spot where drift had been pushed aside to clear the
+stream was found at one place; signs of a canoe having been nosed into
+the bog grass were seen; and here were also the same footprints they
+had followed.
+
+Another bit of hard bottom was reached, and here again was another
+deadfall. Tracks evidently made within a few days were about here,
+and tied to its figure-four spindle was a freshly caught brook sucker.
+
+"The scent's gettin' warm," Old Cy muttered, as he examined these
+signs of a trapper's presence, and then, mindful of the sun, he paddled
+on again.
+
+And now an upland growth of tall spruce was seen ahead, the banks became
+in evidence, and a slight current was met. One more long bend in the
+stream was followed, then came curving banks and large-bodied spruce.
+They were out of the swamp.
+
+Soon a more distinctive current opposed them, a low murmur of running
+water came from ahead, and then a pass between two abutting ledges was
+entered. Here the stream eddied over sunken rocks, and pushing on, the
+forest seemed suddenly to vanish as they emerged from the gloom of this
+short canyon, and the next moment they caught sight of a long, narrow
+lakelet.
+
+The sun, now almost to the tree-tops, cast a reddish glow upon its placid
+surface, and so welcome a change was it from the ghostly, forbidding
+swamp just left, that Old Cy halted their canoe at once to look out upon
+it. It was seemingly a mile long, but quite a narrow lake. A bold, rocky
+shore rising in ledges faced them just across, and extended along
+that side, back of these a low, green-clad mountain, to the right,
+and at the end of this lanelike lake a bolder, bare-topped cliff was
+outlined clear and distinct.
+
+This strip of water, for it was not much more, seemingly filled an oblong
+gorge in these mountains, only one break in them, to the left of this
+bare peak; and as Old Cy urged their canoe out of the alder-choked
+stream, now currentless once more, a margin line of rushes and reeds
+was seen to form that shore. Back of these, also, rose the low ledge
+they had passed.
+
+"Looks like a good hidin' spot fer a pirate," he exclaimed, glancing
+up and down the smiling lakelet. "Thar ain't many folks likely to
+tackle that swamp--it took us 'most all day to cross it. I'll bet
+no lumberman ever tried it twice, 'n' if I wanted to git absolutely
+'way from bein' molested, I'd locate here. I dunno whether we'd
+best cross 'n' make camp 'mong them ledges, or go back into the woods.
+Guess we'd best go back 'n' take a sneak round behind the ledge. I
+noticed a loggin[1] leadin' up that way 'fore we left the swamp."
+
+But now something was discovered that proved Old Cy's wisdom, for as
+they, charmed somewhat by the spot, yet feeling it forbidding, still
+glanced up and down the bold shore just across, suddenly a thin column
+of smoke rose from away to the right, amid the bare ledges.
+
+First a faint haze, rising in the still air, then a burst of white,
+until the fleecy pillar was plainly outlined as it ascended and drifted
+backward into the green forest.
+
+------
+
+[Footnote 1: Lagoon.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+  "Licker allus lets the cat out."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+When the half-breed, Pete Bolduc, reached Tim's Place, he was more
+dead than alive. A week of crawling through swamps, wading or swimming
+streams, sleeping under fallen trees, while sustaining life on frogs,
+raw fish, and one muskrat, had eliminated about all desire to obtain
+Chip, and left a murderous hate instead. And McGuire was its object.
+
+Pete reasoned that he had bought the girl and paid for her. Her father,
+never intending to keep faith, had connived at her escape, and knowing
+of these campers, had hired her for a serving maid, and they would
+inevitably take her out when they left. It was all a part of McGuire's
+plot and plan, and no doubt this stranger had also paid him for her
+possession.
+
+Two other facts also seemed proof positive that these conclusions were
+correct. First, McGuire had never been seen at Tim's Place since the
+girl's escape; second, it would have been impossible for her to reach
+these campers without aid. But she was lost to him for all time, as Pete
+now realized. The stern faces and ready rifles of her protectors had
+convinced him of that, and all that remained was to find McGuire, force
+him to give back the money, then obtain revenge.
+
+Neither was this an easy task, for McGuire was a dangerous man, as Pete
+well knew, and the more he considered the matter, sojourning at Tim's
+Place and nursing his hate meanwhile, the more he realized that the
+killing of McGuire must precede the obtaining of his money. And now,
+where to find McGuire became a question.
+
+Pete knew that at this season he usually devoted a month or more to a
+trapping trip, that in starting out he always ascended the Fox Hole, and
+that his location for this purpose was the head waters of another stream,
+reached by a carry from the Fox Hole.
+
+For a week Pete remained at Tim's Place, and then, obtaining a canoe,
+returned to his hut on this stream.
+
+And now, in the seclusion of his own domicile, certain other facts and
+conclusions bearing upon the present whereabouts of McGuire occurred to
+him.
+
+For many years they had been friends in a way, or at least as much so
+as two such scamps ever are. Together they had made many canoe trips
+to the Provinces to obtain liquor. In these expeditions, McGuire had
+furnished the means; but outlawed as he was, had remained in hiding while
+Pete transacted the business and later shared the profits. Pete's hut
+had also been used as headquarters, and near by it the smuggled liquor
+had been secreted.
+
+On rare occasions, also, McGuire had broken away from his usual
+abstemiousness, and here, with Pete for companion, had indulged in an
+orgie. At these times he invariably boasted how cunning he had been
+in eluding all hated officers of the law, how much money he was worth,
+and how securely he had it hidden. The one most pertinent fact, the
+location of this hiding spot, he never betrayed. But now Pete--almost as
+shrewd as he--reasoned that it would most likely be somewhere in this
+region annually visited by him.
+
+To find this was a hard problem; to find McGuire's hiding spot for
+his money more so. It meant trailing a human being of greater cunning
+than any animal that roamed this wilderness; and yet with the double
+incentive of robbing and revenge now decided upon by this half-breed,
+he set about solving it.
+
+A day's journey up the Fox Hole brought him to the carry over into
+another stream, and here a probably month-old trail, crossing and
+recrossing it, was found. Whoever left the tell-tale footprints wore
+boots, and as McGuire was the only hunter or trapper in this region
+known to wear them, this seemed evidence that it was he. Then as two
+trails led over, with only one returning, that proved he had made two
+trips across to carry his canoe and belongings and had not returned.
+This was plain enough, but when once over, the question of whether he
+went up or down stream was another matter. It was an even chance,
+however, and Pete decided to go up, and keep sharp watch for any signs
+which would indicate that he was on the right track. To trail any animal
+in this wilderness was child's play to Pete; but to follow another
+trapper journeying by canoe was not so easy. Halts for night camps he
+must of course make, collections of drift in some narrow part of the
+stream he would inevitably disturb, and where a carry around a rapid
+came, a trail would be left. These were the only signs possible to
+discover, and for these Pete now watched.
+
+The slow-running waterway he ascended the first day wound through a
+stately forest of spruce. Its banks were low and well defined, yet
+always covered by undergrowth. No breaks in them, no openings where a
+night halt would naturally be made; but ever of the same unvarying
+character, and shadowed by the overhang of interlaced boughs. With one
+eye keen to any even the slightest signs of human progress up this
+stream, and ears ever alert, Pete paddled on. Wildwood sights and
+sounds, however, were met in plenty. Once a lordly moose, seeing or
+smelling him, snorted and plunged away, crashing through the undergrowth.
+Deer were seen or heard at every turn of the stream, and dozens of
+muskrats were noticed swimming or diving off the bank, with now and then
+an otter or a mink, to vary this monotony.
+
+But these were of no interest to Pete. He was trailing other game,
+and like an avenging Nemesis, slowly crept through this vast, sombre,
+and forbidding forest. When nightfall neared, he hauled his canoe out
+where a stretch of hard bank favored, and camped for the night, and
+when daylight came again, he pushed on. For three days this watchful,
+up-stream journey was continued, and then a range of low mountains began
+to close in, short rapids needing the use of a setting-pole were met,
+and at last a series of stair-like falls was sighted ahead. The sun was
+well down when these were reached. How long the necessary carry might
+be, he could not tell, and hauling out below the rapids, Pete took
+his rifle and crept up along the bank. So far not a sign indicating
+whether or not McGuire had gone up this stream had been found, but here,
+if anywhere, they must be met, and Pete watched eagerly for them.
+
+Every rock where a human foot might scrape away the moss was scanned.
+Each bending bough and bush was observed, and when, perforce, he had to
+leave the rock-lined bank and make a detour, he still watched for signs.
+
+At the top of this long pitch, the tall trees also ended, and here the
+stream issued from a vast bush-grown swamp devoid of timber. A few dead
+trees rose from it, and climbing a low spruce, Pete saw this whitened
+expanse of spectral cones extended for miles. It was a forbidding
+prospect. The stream's course appeared visible only a few rods. It
+seemed hardly probable the man he was trailing would cross this swamp. No
+signs of his ascending this waterway had so far been met, and Pete,
+now discouraged, was about to return to his canoe and on the morn go
+back, when, glancing across the stream, he saw a tiny opening in the
+bushes, as if they had been pushed aside.
+
+To cross, leaping from rock to rock in the rapids below, was his next
+move, and returning to where the fall began, there, just back from this
+point, and beside a ledge, were the charred embers of a camp-fire.
+
+Weeks old, without doubt, for rain had fallen on them, and all about were
+the footprints of some one wearing boots.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+  "'Tain't allus the bell cow that gives the most milk."
+  --Old Cy Walker.
+
+Old Cy was, above all, a peaceable man, and while curiosity had led him
+to follow the trail of this robber and to cross this vast swamp, now that
+he saw the suggestive smoke sign, he hesitated about venturing nearer.
+
+"I guess we'd best be keerful," he whispered to Ray, "or we may
+wish we had been. I callate our pirate friend's got a hidin' spot
+over thar, 'n' most likely don't want callers. He may be only a queer
+old trapper a little short o' scruples ag'in' takin' what he finds,
+'n' then ag'in he may be worse'n that. His campin' spot's ag'in'
+him, anyhow."
+
+But the sun was now very low; a camp site must soon be found, and scarce
+two minutes from the time he saw this rising column of smoke, Old Cy
+dipped his paddle and slowly drew back into the protecting forest. Once
+well out of sight, the canoe was turned and they sped back down-stream
+and into the swamp once more. Here he turned aside into a lagoon they
+had passed, and at its head they pulled their canoe out into the bog.
+
+The two gathered up their belongings, and picking their way out of
+the morass, reached the belt of hard bottom skirting the ridge. They
+were now out of sight from the lake, but still too near the stream
+to risk a camp-fire, and so Old Cy led the way along this belt until
+a more secluded niche in the ridge was reached, and here they began
+camp-making. It was a simple process. A level spot was cleared from
+brush, two convenient saplings denuded of their lower limbs, a cross
+pole was placed in suitable crotches, near-by spruces were attacked with
+the axe, and a bark wigwam soon resulted, and just as the darkness began
+to gather, a fire was started.
+
+Both Old Cy and Ray had worked with a will, and none too soon was so much
+accomplished, for night was upon them, and only by the firelight could
+they see to complete the needful preparations.
+
+A peculiar effect of the time, place, and their position was also
+noticeable; for although at least a mile away from where this smoke
+sign had warned them, and screened from it by a high ridge, both spoke
+only in whispers. More than that, the camp-fire was kept low, barely
+enough to cook a modest meal, and when the flame chanced to flare up,
+Old Cy glanced aloft into the tree-tops to see if they were illumed.
+Not much was said, for Old Cy's thoughts were far away, and when
+supper was eaten he lit his pipe and sat watching the embers while Ray
+studied him. Ray, too, spoke scarcely a word. All that day he had felt
+much the same, and while he had the most implicit confidence in Old
+Cy's wisdom, now that he had advised retreat, the reasons for it
+became ten times more ominous to Ray.
+
+Then again, the sombre nook in which they had camped and the vast swamp
+that lay between them and the protecting cabin, all had an effect. This
+weird feeling was also added to by the occasional cry of some night
+prowler far away in the forest or out in the swamp. Chip's spites,
+those uncanny creatures of the imagination, also began to gather, and
+Ray fancied he could hear them crawling cautiously about.
+
+"I don't like this," he whispered at last, "and I wish we hadn't
+come. Don't you think we had better go back soon as it's daylight?"
+
+"Wal, mebbe," answered Old Cy, smiling at Ray's nervousness. "I've
+kinder figgered we might watch out from a-top o' the ridge when mornin'
+came 'n' see what we kin see. We might ketch sight o' the pirate
+chap 'cross the lake."
+
+"But suppose he catches sight of us," returned Ray, "what then?"
+
+"I don't mean he shall," answered Old Cy, "so don't git skeered.
+I'll take keer on ye."
+
+That night, however, was the longest ever passed by Ray, for not until
+near morning did he fall into a fitful slumber, and scarcely had he lost
+himself before Old Cy was up and watching for the dawn.
+
+Its first faint glow was visible when Ray's eyes opened, and without
+waiting for fire or breakfast, they started for the top of the ridge.
+From here a curious sight met their eyes, for the lake and also the
+ridges out of which the smoke had risen were hidden beneath a white pall
+of fog. Back of them also, and completely coating the immense swamp, was
+the same sea of vapor. It soon vanished with the rising sun, and just as
+the ledges across the lake outlined themselves, once more that smoke
+sign rose aloft.
+
+And now the two watchers could better see whence it came. Old Cy had
+expected to obtain sight of some hut or bark shack nestling among these
+rocks; but none was visible. Instead, the smoke rose out of a jagged
+rock, and there was not a cabin roof or sign of one anywhere.
+
+"That feller's in a cave," he whispered to Ray, "an' the smoke's
+comin' out o' a crack, sure's a gun!"
+
+It seemed so, and for a half-hour the two watched it in silent amazement.
+
+Then came another surprise, for suddenly Old Cy caught sight of a man
+just emerging from behind a rock fully ten rods from the rising smoke; he
+stooped, lifted a canoe into view, advanced to the shore, slid it halfway
+into the water, returned to the rock, picked up a rifle, then pushed
+the canoe off, and, crossing the lake, vanished into the outlet.
+
+The two watchers on the ridge exchanged glances.
+
+"He's goin' to tend his traps, an' mebbe ourn," Old Cy said at
+last, and then led the way back to their bark shack. Here he halted,
+and placing one hand scoop-fashion over his ear, listened intently until
+he caught the faint sound of a paddle touching a canoe gunwale. First
+slightly, then a more distinctive thud, and then less and less until the
+sound ceased.
+
+"The coast's clear," he added, now in an exultant whisper, "an'
+while the old cat's away we'll take a peek at his den."
+
+A hurried gathering of their few belongings was made, the canoe was
+shoved into the lagoon, and no time was lost until the lake was crossed
+and they drew alongside of where the smoke was still rising in a thin
+film. No landing was possible here, for the shore was a sheer face of
+upright slate, and only where this lone trapper had launched his canoe
+could they make one.
+
+From here a series of outcropping slate ledges rose one above another,
+and between them and parallel to the shore, narrow, irregular passages
+partially closed by broken rock. It was all of slaty formation, jagged,
+serrated, and gray with moss.
+
+Following one of these passages, Old Cy and Ray came to the ledge out
+of which the smoke was rising from a crevasse. It was a little lower
+than one in front, perhaps forty feet in breadth, double that in length,
+and of a more even surface. At each end was a short transverse passage
+hardly wide enough to walk in, and a few feet deep.
+
+And now, after a more careful examination of the crevasse out of which
+the thin film of smoke rose, Old Cy began a search. Up and down each
+narrow passway he peeped and peered, but nowhere was a crack or cranny
+to be found in their walls. In places they were as high as his head,
+sheer faces of slate, then broken, serrated, moss-coated, or of yellow,
+rusty color. Here and there a stunted spruce had taken root in some
+crack, and over, back from the topmost ledge, this green enclosure began
+and continued up the low mountain. Here, also, in a sunny nook below
+this belting tangle of scrub spruce, were ample signs of a trapper's
+occupation in the way of pelts stretched upon forked sticks and hanging
+from a cord crossing this niche. They were of the usual species found
+in this wilderness,--a dozen muskrat, with a few mink and otter skins
+and one lynx.
+
+Another sign of human presence was also noted, for here a log showing
+axe-marks, with split wood and chips all about, was seen.
+
+"Some o' them pelts is ourn," Old Cy ejaculated, glancing at the
+array, "an' I've a notion we'd best hook on to 'em. Mebbe not,
+though," he added a moment later, "it might git us into more trouble."
+
+But Ray was getting more and more uneasy each moment since they had
+landed there. It seemed to him a most dangerous exploit, and while Old Cy
+had hunted over this curious confusion of slate ledges and stared at
+the rising film of smoke, Ray had covertly watched the lake's outlet.
+
+"I don't think we'd better stay here much longer," he said at last.
+"We can't tell how soon that man may come back and catch us."
+
+"Guess you're right," Old Cy asserted tersely, and after one more look
+at the inch-wide crack out of which the smoke rose, he led the way to
+their canoe.
+
+"Thar's a cave thar, sure's a gun," he muttered, as they skirted the
+bold shore once more, "an' that smoke's comin' out on't. I wish I
+dared stay here a little longer 'n' hunt fer it."
+
+Old Cy was right, there was a cave there beneath the slate ledge--in
+fact, two caves; and in one, safe and secure, as its owner the notorious
+McGuire believed, were concealed the savings of his lifetime.
+
+More than that, so near do we often come to an important discovery and
+miss it, Old Cy had twice leaned against a slab of slate closing the
+entrance to this cave and access to a fortune, the heritage of Chip
+McGuire.
+
+Ray's fears, while well founded, were needless, however. McGuire--for it
+was this outlaw whom they had ample reason to avoid--was many miles away.
+And yet so potent was the sense of danger, that neither Old Cy nor Ray
+thought of food, or ceased paddling one moment, until they had crossed
+the vast swamp and once more pulled their canoe out at the point where
+they had entered it the day before.
+
+Here a brief halt for food and rest was taken; then they shouldered their
+light craft and started for Birch Camp.
+
+In the meantime another canoe was ascending this winding stream, and long
+before nightfall, Pete Bolduc, sure that he was on the trail of McGuire,
+entered the ledge-bordered lake.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+  "If most on us cud see ourselves as the rest see us, we'd
+  want to be hermits."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+To trail an enemy who is never without a rifle and the will to use it,
+requires courage and Indian cunning as well. Pete Bolduc had both, and
+after observing the many signs of a trapper's presence in the swamp,
+he knew, after he crossed it and reached this lake, that somewhere on
+its shores, his enemy, McGuire, had his lair.
+
+He paused at the outlet, as did Old Cy, to scan every rod of its rocky
+shores, not once, but a dozen times.
+
+The sun was now halfway down. A mellow autumn haze softened the
+encircling mountains and the broad, frowning peak to the right. A
+gentle breeze rippled the upper end of the lake, and here, in the
+wild rice growing along its borders, stood a deer, belly-deep in the
+green growth.
+
+No thought of the blessed harmony of lake, sky, and forest, or the
+sequestered beauty of this spot, came to the half-breed. Revenge and
+murder--twin demons of his nature--were in his heart, and the Indian
+cunning that made him hide while he watched for signs of his enemy. The
+bare peak overlooking the lake soon impressed him as a vantage point, and
+after a half-hour of watchful listening he laid his rifle across the
+thwart, handy to grasp on the instant, and, seizing his paddle once
+more, crossed the lake to the foot of the peak.
+
+To hide his canoe here, ascend this with pack and rifle, was the next
+move of this human panther, and here in a sheltering crevasse he lay and
+watched for his enemy.
+
+Two hours later, and just at sunset, McGuire returned to the lake.
+
+As usual, he, too, paused at the outlet to scan its shores. He believed
+himself utterly secure here, and thought no human being was likely to
+find this lakelet. But for all that, he was watchful. Some exploring
+lumberman or some pioneer trapper might cross this vast swamp and find
+this lake during his absence.
+
+A brief scrutiny assured him that he was still safe from human eyes, and
+he crossed the lake.
+
+From the bare cliff a single keen and vengeful eye watched him.
+
+As usual, also, McGuire made his landing at a convenient point, some
+fifty rods from his cave, and carried his canoe up and turned it over,
+back of a low-jutting ridge of slate. He skinned the half-dozen prizes
+his traps had secured that day and followed a shallow defile to his
+lair. Here his pelts were stretched, a slab of slate was lifted from
+its position in a deep, wide crevasse between two of these ledges, and
+McGuire crawled into his den.
+
+Most of these movements were observed by the half-breed, who, watching
+ever while he plotted and planned how best to catch his enemy unawares,
+saw him emerge from amid the ledges again, go down to the lake, return
+with a pail of water, and vanish once more.
+
+All this was a curious proceeding, for he, like Old Cy, had expected to
+find McGuire occupying some bark shelter, and even now he supposed there
+was one among this confusion of bare rocks.
+
+Another surprise soon came to this distant watcher, for he now saw a thin
+column of smoke rise from a ledge and continue in varying volume until
+hidden by twilight.
+
+And now, secure in his cave and quite unconscious of the watcher with
+murderous intent who had observed his actions, McGuire was enjoying
+himself. He had built a little slate fireplace within his cave. A funnel
+of the same easily fitted material carried the smoke up to a long,
+inch-wide fissure in the roof. He had a table of slate to eat from,
+handy by a bed filled with moss and dry grass, also pine knots for
+needed light.
+
+Opening into this small cave was a lesser one, always cool and dry, for
+no rain nor melting snow could enter it, and here was McGuire's pantry,
+and here also a half-dozen tin cans, safely hidden under a slab of slate,
+stuffed with gold and banknotes.
+
+To still further protect this inner cave, he had fitted a section of
+slate to entirely fill its entrance.
+
+When the last vestige of sunset had vanished and twinkling stars were
+reflected from the placid lake, the half-breed descended from his lookout
+point, and, launching his canoe, followed close to the shadowed shore
+and landed just above where McGuire disembarked. Indian that he was, he
+chose the hours of night and darkness to crawl up to the bark shelter
+which he expected to find, his intention being to thrust a rifle muzzle
+close to his enemy's head and then pull the trigger.
+
+But to do this required a long wait and extreme caution. His enemy
+surely had a camp-fire behind a ledge, and shelter as well. The smoke
+had seemed to rise out of a ledge, but certainly could not, and so--still
+unaware of McGuire's position, yet sure that he was amid these ledges,
+and near a shelter--Pete grasped his rifle and crept ashore.
+
+It was too early to surprise his enemy--time to fall asleep must be
+allowed. Yet so eager was the half-breed to deal death to him, that he
+must needs come here to wait. No chances must be taken when he did crawl
+up to his victim, for a false step or the rattle of a loose stone, or
+his form outlined against the starlit sky as he crawled over a ledge,
+might mean death to him instead of McGuire. And so, crouching safely
+in a dark nook above the landing, Pete waited, watched, and listened.
+
+One hour passed--it seemed two--and then the half-breed crept stealthily
+up to where the smoke had been seen. Not by strides, or even steps, but
+as a panther would, lifting one foot and feeling where it would rest and
+then another, and all the while listening and advancing again.
+
+It was McGuire's habit, while staying here, to look at the weather
+prospects each night, and also to obtain a drink of cool lake water
+before going to sleep.
+
+Often when the evenings were not too cold, he would sit by the lake shore
+for a half-hour, smoking and watching its starlit or moon-glittering
+surface, and listening to the calls of night prowlers.
+
+In spite of being an outlaw, devoid of moral nature, and one who preyed
+upon his fellow-man, he was not without sentiment, and the wild grandeur
+of these enclosing mountains, and the sense of security they gave, were
+pleasant to him. His life had been a harsh and brutal one. He had dealt
+in man's lust and love of liquor. He measured all humankind by his own
+standard of right and wrong, and believed that he must rob others or
+they would rob him. He had followed that belief implicitly from the
+start, and would so long as he lived. He felt that every man's hand
+was against him, and no reproaches of conscience had resulted from his
+cold-blooded killing of an officer. Never once did the thought return
+of the few years when a woman's hand sought his in tenderness, nor any
+sense of the unspeakable horror he had decreed for his own child.
+
+So vile a wretch seemed unfit for God's green earth; and yet the silence
+of night beside this lake, and the stars mirrored on its motionless
+surface, soothed and satisfied him.
+
+[Illustration: He grasped and struck at this enemy in a blind instinct of
+self-preservation.]
+
+He had now and then another impulse--to some day take his savings of many
+years, secreted here, and go to some other country, assume another name,
+and lead a different life.
+
+And now, while an unsuspected enemy was waiting for him to enter a sleep
+that should know no waking, he left his cave and seated himself on a
+shelf-like projection close to the lake, which was deep here, and the
+ledge shore a sheer face rising some ten feet above the water.
+
+One hour or more this strange compound of brute and man sat there
+contemplating the stars, and then he suddenly detected a sound--only
+a faint one, the mere click of one pebble striking another.
+
+He arose and listened.
+
+Soon another soft, crushing sound reached him. Some animal creeping along
+in the passage between the ledges, he thought.
+
+He stepped quickly to the end of the shelf. On that instant a crouching
+form rose upward and confronted him.
+
+He had one moment only, but enough to see a tall man a step below him,
+the next a flash of spitting fire, a stinging pain in one shoulder, and
+this human panther leaped upon McGuire!
+
+But life was sweet, even to McGuire, and as he grasped and struck at
+this enemy in a blind instinct of self-preservation as both closed in
+a death-grapple, one instant of awful agony came to him as a knife
+entered his heart--a yell of mingled hate and deadly fear, as two
+bodies writhed on the narrow shelf, a plunging sound, as both struck
+the water below--and then silence.
+
+Death and vengeance were clasped in one eternal embrace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+  "Thar's two things it don't pay to worry 'bout,--those ye
+  can help 'n' and those ye can't."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+When Old Cy and Ray once more made their way up the Beaver Brook valley,
+it was with the feeling that this lone and sinister trapper might be
+met at any moment. They dared not leave their canoe where it might be
+easily found, but adopting Indian tactics, Old Cy cunningly hid it in a
+rank growth of swamp grass, and oft doubling on their own tracks and
+wading the shallow stream, left only a confusing trail.
+
+When the deadfalls had been visited and they began gum-gathering again,
+they watched constantly for an enemy.
+
+A dense forest of tall spruces is at best a weird and ill-omened spot.
+Its vastness appalls, its shadows seem spectral, and every natural object
+becomes grotesque and distorted. An overturned stump with bleaching
+roots appears like a hideous devilfish with arms ready to entwine and
+crush. A twisted tree trunk, prone, rotting, and coated with moss, looks
+like a huge green serpent, and even a knot in the side of a big spruce
+will resemble a grinning gnome. Even the sunlight flitting through the
+dense canopy plays fantastic tricks, and every breath of wind becomes
+the moan of troubled spirits.
+
+Something of this weird impress now assailed Old Cy and more especially
+Ray, and after two days of unpleasant work in this part of the
+wilderness, they gave it up.
+
+"I don't like feelin' I'm bein' watched," Old Cy observed when
+they once more started for home, "an' to-morrer I guess we'd best
+go 'nother way. Thar's a good spruce growth over beyond the hog-back,
+'n' I'd feel safer leavin' the canoe whar Amzi kin keep an eye on't.
+We kin come up now once a week 'n' tend the deadfalls 'n' not leave
+the canoe more'n an hour."
+
+Little did Old Cy realize how groundless his fears now were, or that
+fathoms deep, in a cold, mountain-hid lake, the thieving McGuire and
+the implacable half-breed were now locked in the clasp of death.
+
+A change of location, however, banished somewhat of this spectral
+presence, and although Old Cy was ever alert and watchful, he showed
+no sign of it.
+
+Ray, more volatile and with implicit faith in his protector, soon
+returned to normal condition of mind and once more entered into the
+spirit of their work and sport with a keen zest.
+
+The traps gave increased returns, the little bin where they stored their
+gum was filling slowly but surely, and their life at this wildwood home
+became enjoyable.
+
+Neither was it all labor, for the ducks now migrating southward were
+alighting in the lake by thousands, a few hours' shooting at them from
+ambush made glorious sport, and what with all the partridges they had
+secured and these additions, their ice-house was soon unable to hold
+another bird.
+
+But the halcyon days of autumn were fast passing and signs of nearing
+winter were now visible. Ice began to form in little coves, the ducks
+ceased coming, soon the last of them had departed, the leaves of all
+hardwood trees were now joining in a hurry-scurry dance with every
+passing breeze, the days were of a suggestive shortness, and soon the
+grim and merciless snow--the White Spirit of Old Tomah--would be sweeping
+over the wilderness.
+
+And then one night the Frost King silently touched that rippled lake
+with his wand and the next morning Old Cy and Ray looked out upon its
+motionless expanse of black ice. The sky was also leaden, an ominous
+stillness brooded over forest, lake, and mountain, and midway of that
+day, the first snowfall came.
+
+Old Cy and Ray were a mile away from the cabin, busy at gum-gathering,
+when the first flakes sifted down through the canopied spruce tops. Soon
+the carpet of needles began to whiten, and by mid-afternoon they had to
+abandon work and return.
+
+"I guess we come pretty clus to bein' prisoners now," Old Cy
+ejaculated when he shook himself free from the white coating on the
+cabin porch, "but we've got to make the best on't. We'll git warm
+fust 'n' then go 'n' fetch our canoe up 'n' stow it in the
+shed. We ain't like to want it ag'in 'fore spring. One thing is
+sartin," he added, when the fire began to blaze in the open fireplace,
+"we are sure o' keepin' warm 'n' 'nuff to eat this winter, 'n'
+that's all we really need in life, anyway. The rest on't is mostly
+imagination."
+
+But in spite of his serene philosophy, Old Cy had dreaded the coming
+of winter more than Ray could guess, and all on account of that lad. He
+himself knew what a winter meant in this wilderness cabin, while Ray did
+not. Separated as they were from civilization by a full hundred miles,
+and from Tim's place by forty, they were, as he stated, practically
+prisoners for the next five months.
+
+To escape on snow-shoes was possible, of course, if the need arose, and
+yet it would be a pretty serious venture, after all.
+
+They were in no particular danger, however. With plenty of food and
+fuel, they need not suffer. If the cabin burned, they could erect another
+shelter or use the old one. Something of diversion could be obtained
+from ice-fishing or gum-gathering on warm days; but not enough, as Old
+Cy feared, to keep Ray content and free from the megrims.
+
+None of these fears escaped Old Cy, however. He was too wise for that;
+and moreover, in order to inspire Ray, he now began to affect an almost
+boyish interest in the snow coming and its enjoyments.
+
+"We can't do much more trappin'," he said that first winter evening
+beside the fire while the snow beat against the windows, "but we kin
+hev some fun keepin' warm an' cookin', 'n' when the snow hardens a
+bit we kin go fer gum again, or set tip-ups. We've got more'n a million
+shiners in the cage up the brook, 'n' 'fore it gits too cold, we'll
+ketch a lot o' trout."
+
+It was this faculty for adaptation to the situation, this making the
+best of all circumstances and seizing all opportunities for pleasure
+or profit, that was Old Cy's woodwise characteristic. No matter if
+it stormed, he knew that the sun shone behind the clouds. No matter
+if they were utterly isolated in this wilderness, he still saw ways
+of enjoyment, and even when snowbound, or shut in by zero weather, he
+would still find interest in cooking, keeping warm, or getting ready
+to fish, or in gathering gum, when the chance came.
+
+But winter had now come upon them with a sudden swoop. The next day snow
+fell incessantly, and when the sun shone again, a two-foot level of it
+hid the lake.
+
+Then, as if to test Ray's spirits, the temperature kept well below
+freezing for the next week, the wind blew continuously, sweeping the
+snow into drifts, and all the three could do, as Old Cy said, was to
+"cook vittles and keep warm."
+
+And now for the first time, Ray began to show homesickness. From the day
+Chip had left, not once had he mentioned her or his aunt or uncle in any
+way. He had kept step, as it were, with Old Cy in all things adventurous
+as well as labor and sport.
+
+The possible, even certain gain in the money value of the furs and gum
+which they had secured, coupled with their adventurous life, had occupied
+his every thought; but now that he could only help Old Cy indoors, he
+began to mope.
+
+"I wonder what they are doing now down in Greenvale," he said one
+evening after they had gathered about the fire. "I wish we could hear
+from 'em."
+
+It was the first sign of homesickness which Old Cy had so long dreaded
+to see in him.
+
+"Oh, they ain't havin' half the fun we are," Old Cy answered
+cheerfully. "Jest now I callate Chip's studyin' 'longside o' Aunt
+Comfort's fire; mebbe Angie 'n' Martin's over to Dr. Sol's,
+swappin' yarns. To-morrer Chip'll go ter school, ez usual, 'n' when
+Sunday comes they'll all dress up 'n' go ter meetin'. One thing
+is sartin, they ain't takin' any more comfort'n we are, or gittin'
+better things to eat. If the weather warms up, ez I callate it will in a
+day or two, we'll pull some trout out o' the lake that 'ud make
+all Greenvale stare. They allus bite sharp arter a cold spell. Ez fer
+Chip," he continued, eying Ray's sober face, "she ain't goin'
+to fergit ye, never fear, an' when I take ye out o' the woods in the
+spring 'n' start ye fer Greenvale with five hundred dollars in yer
+inside pocket, ez I callate, ye'll feel's though ye owned the hull
+town when ye git thar, an' Chip'll feel ez tho' she owned ye."
+
+"I wish I could hear how they are once in a while," Ray rejoined.
+"They may be sick."
+
+That "they" meant Chip was self-evident.
+
+Once a mood comes upon a person, it is hard to change it, and of all
+the moods that torture poor human beings, the love mood is the most
+implacable. While the zest of trapping was upon Ray, he was himself and a
+cheerful enough lad. There had also been the spice of danger from this
+unknown, thieving trapper; but when both had vanished, and all that was
+left for excitement was the monotony of indoor life, with occasional
+half-days when fishing through the ice was permissible, his spirits
+fell to low tide.
+
+Old Cy had feared this from the outset, but believing that the
+experience here was the best possible for the boy, to say nothing of the
+financial side, he had brought it about. And now he had his hands full.
+
+But he was equal to it. Next to sport, work, he knew, was the best
+panacea for any mental disorder, and work a-plenty he now found for
+Ray. First, it had been the making of tip-ups for use on the lake, then
+snow-shoes for both of them, and then cutting and splitting more wood.
+They had an ample supply already, piled high in a lean-to alongside the
+big cabin, but Old Cy asserted that it was not enough, and so more was
+added.
+
+The paths, one to the lake to obtain water and one to the ice-house, were
+allotted to Ray to keep open.
+
+A few days were consumed in filling the ice-house once more, and when
+a warm day came, Old Cy led the way to the sheltered side of the lake,
+as enthusiastic as a boy, to begin cutting holes and setting lines for
+fishing.
+
+This especially interested Ray, and one good day with a fine catch of
+trout would revive his spirits for some time.
+
+Each and every evening, also, when the social side came, Old Cy, always a
+prolific story-teller, would engage in his favorite pastime for a purpose.
+
+And what a marvellous fund he had to draw from! All the years when he,
+a sailor boy, had sailed afar, all the strange countries and people he
+had visited, and all the mishaps he had met were now levied upon.
+
+When these failed--and it was not soon--his wilderness wanderings before
+he settled down at Greenvale furnished tales, and when facts became
+scarce, his fancies came into play, and many a thrilling shipwreck and
+hair-breadth escape that never happened, held Ray's attention for a
+long evening.
+
+The banjo also helped out for many an hour. The old hermit with his
+jews'-harp joined in, and although Ray's fingers were prone to stray
+to "solemn" tunes, Old Cy persisted in his calls for livelier songs,
+even to the extent of adding his voice; and so the first few weeks of
+winter wore away.
+
+When Christmas neared, however, Ray had a "spell." It had been a
+calendar day in his memory, and he had been one of the crowd of young
+folks who made merry in the usual ways; but now no cheer was possible,
+he believed, and once more he began to look glum.
+
+It may seem rank foolishness and doubtless was, yet Ray, like all
+humanity, must be measured by his years and judged by his surroundings.
+
+In Greenvale he had been one of fifty schoolmates whose lives and moods
+were akin, and whose enjoyments must be much the same. Here he was, in a
+way, utterly alone so far as age means companionship, and worse than
+that, one of his two companions was morose and misanthropic. True, he
+twanged his jews'-harp in tune with Ray's plantation melodies, but
+when that bond of feeling ceased, he lapsed into chill silence once more.
+
+But Old Cy, wise philosopher that he was, saw and felt every mood and
+tense that came to Ray, and, seeing thus, forestalled each and every one.
+
+"Christmas is 'most here," he said to Ray, a few days before, "an'
+I've been figgerin' we three ought to celebrate it 'cordin' to
+the best o' our means. We can't do much in the way o' gifts, but we
+kin bust ourselves with vittles 'n' have some fun, just the same.
+I've kinder mapped out the day sorter this way, if it's pleasant.
+Fust, we'll hev an arly breakfast, then pack a lot o' things on the
+hand-sled, go 'cross the lake 'n' round to the cove facin' the south.
+Here we'll cut a few holes, set some lines, 'n' while you're tendin'
+'em, Amzi 'n' me'll clear a spot under the bank, build a bough
+lean-to facin' the sun, spread blankets in it, 'n' when noon comes,
+cook a meal fit fer the gods. We kin hev briled venison, fried trout
+jist out o' the water, boiled taters, hot coffee, 'n' an appetite
+that'll make ye lick yer fingers 'n' holler fer more. If only the
+sun shines, we kin hev a heap o' fun."
+
+It was all a boyish diversion as planned by Old Cy, and the sole object
+was to tide Ray over a day that might add to his homesickness. The
+weather favored this kindly interest.
+
+Christmas morn opened warm, and but for the deep snow it might have
+been an October day. Old Cy's romantic plan also materialized to the
+fullest, and when his green bough shed, with carpet of the same, was
+completed, the fire in front blazing cheerfully and dinner cooking, it
+was all a picture well worth a study.
+
+Then as if to prove that good luck trots in double harness, about this
+time the trout began to bite, and the line of tip-ups across the cove
+were flagging exciting signals that kept Ray and the old hermit on the
+jump. Even when their picturesque Christmas dinner was spread upon an
+improvised table in front of the bough shelter, Ray could hardly leave
+the sport to eat, and Old Cy had to interfere.
+
+"We ain't ketchin' fish to sell," he said to Ray, "but jist fer fun.
+You've got more'n we kin eat in two weeks, so give 'em a rest."
+
+When dinner was over there came a lazy lounging hour on the fir boughs in
+the warm sun, while Old Cy smoked his pipe of content.
+
+Ray, however, could not resist the signal flags any longer, and as soon
+as the meal was eaten he was out tending them again.
+
+When the sun was halfway down, again the happy trio broke camp and
+returned to the cabin, carrying fish enough to feed a multitude. That
+evening Old Cy told stories as usual, Ray picked his banjo and sang
+lively songs, and so ended Christmas in the wilderness.
+
+Our lives are but a succession of moods, varying ever as our surroundings
+change; and so it was with Ray, isolated as he was with two old men for
+companions. With work or sport to interest him, he was cheerful and
+content. But when, as now happened, another long and heavy snowfall
+succeeded that mellow Christmas Day, he grew morose. It was selfish,
+perhaps, and thoughtless, as youth ever is, and yet not surprising; for
+when the sun shone again, they were practically buried under snow. It
+took an entire day, with all three working, to shovel paths to the lake
+and ice-house, and when that was done there was naught else except to
+cook and keep the fire going. A few days of this bore heavily on
+Ray's spirits, and he became so glum that Old Cy took him to task.
+
+"You've got to brace up, my boy," he said one evening, "an' likewise
+count yer blessin's. We are shut up fer a spell, but think how much
+worse off ye might be. We've got plenty to eat 'n' keep warm with,
+thar's a good three hundred pounds o' gum we got, an' it's worth over
+four hundred dollars, say nothin' o' the furs, 'n' all yourn. Then,
+'nother thing, ye mustn't keep broodin' over yer own lonesomeness
+so much. I'll 'low ye're kind o' anxious to see the little gal
+ag'in, as is nat'ral; but s'pose it was two years ye hed to look
+forrard to, a-waitin', an' then on top o' that, arter waitin' so
+long, ye hed to face three more, with never a chance to larn whether
+she was dead or alive!"
+
+And now Old Cy paused, and watched the low-burning fire as if living once
+more in bygone days.
+
+"It seems a long time, these months," he continued at last, glancing
+at Ray, "an' so 'tis; but I had a longer spell on't once, an' it
+ended the way I hope your waitin' won't. It all happened more'n forty
+years ago, 'n' I've never told nobody 'bout it since.
+
+"I was born in Bayport, that's a seaport town, an' me 'n' my only
+brother took to the sea at an arly age. We had sweethearts, too, and,
+curislike, they was sisters. Mine was Abbie Grey--sweet Abbie Grey they
+used to call her, an' she well desarved it.
+
+"Wal, I used to see her 'tween viages, mebbe a week or two, onct in
+six or twelve months o' waitin', an' them was spells I've lived over
+hundreds o' times, I kin tell ye. We 'greed to hitch up finally arter
+I made one more viage, 'n' I went off, feelin' life ahead was all
+apple orchards 'n' sunshine."
+
+He paused, looked long at the dying embers once more, and then continued:
+"Life is all a mix-up o' hopes 'n' disapp'intments, tho', an' the
+brighter the hopes the more sartin they are to be upset. I started on
+that viage feelin' heaven was waitin' fer me at shore, 'n' I seemed
+to 'a' sailed right into the other place, fer our ship sprung a
+leak 'n' foundered. We took to the boats, ez I told ye onct. Most
+o' my crew died afore I was picked up, 'n' then the whaler that
+took me aboard was bound on a four years' viage. That was bad enough,
+but worse was possible, fer she fetched up on a coral island one
+night toward the last on't, and 'twas plumb six years 'fore I heard
+from home 'n' Abbie. Things had happened thar in that time, too, an' I
+was told my brother had been given up ez lost, 'n' Abbie, believin'
+we both was dead, had married 'nother man. I was so upsot I never let
+her know I was alive, 'n' she don't know it to-day, if she's
+still livin', which I hope she is."
+
+For a long time now Old Cy remained silent, his head bowed, his eyes
+closed, as that long-ago page of memories returned, while Ray watched him.
+
+"Life is a curis puzzle," he added at last, "an' we all live in
+to-morrers. Fust we are like boys chasin' Jack-lanterns, rushin' on all
+the time, 'spectin' most o' the trouble is past 'n' the future
+is all rosy. We don't figger much on to-day, but callate next week, next
+month, next year, is goin' to be more sunshiny, till we get old 'n'
+gray 'n' grumpy, 'n' nobody wants us 'round."
+
+Once more he ceased speaking, and once more his eyes closed. Five, ten,
+twenty minutes passed while Ray watched Old Age in repose and the fire
+quite died away.
+
+"It's gittin' chilly," Old Cy said at last, suddenly rousing himself
+from his dream of the long ago and sweet Abbie Grey, "an' we'd best
+turn in."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+  "The biggest fool thing--an' we all do it--is shakin'
+  hands with trouble 'fore ye meet it."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+For two months life at Birch Camp much resembled that of a woodchuck or
+a squirrel. Now and then a day came when the crusted snow permitted a
+gum-gathering trip into the forest, or a few midday hours at ice-fishing;
+and never were the first signs of spring more welcome than to those
+winter-bound prisoners. The wise counsel and patient example of Old Cy
+had not been lost upon Ray, either; and that winter's experience had
+changed him to an almost marvellous degree. He was no longer a moody and
+selfish boy, thinking only of his own privations, but more of a man, who
+realized that he had duties and obligations toward others, as well as
+himself.
+
+With the returning sun and vanishing snow, animal life was once more
+astir, and a short season of trapping was again entered upon, and
+mingled with that a few days more of gum-gathering. It was brief and at a
+disadvantage, for ice still covered the lake, and until that disappeared
+no use of the canoes could be made.
+
+Once well under way, however, spring returned with speed, the brooks
+began to overflow, the lake to rise, and one morning, instead of a white
+expanse of watery ice, it was a blue and rippled lake once more.
+
+And now plans for Ray's return to Greenvale were in order, and the sole
+topic of discussion. He was as eager as a boy anxious for the close of
+school, and for a double reason, which is self-evident.
+
+It was agreed that Old Cy and himself should make the trip out together
+in two canoes, and convey their stores of gum and firs. At the settlement
+these were to be packed, to await later sale and shipment. Old Cy would
+then return to camp, and Ray would go on to Greenvale.
+
+A change in this plan came in an unexpected manner, however, for a few
+days before the one set for departure, Old Cy, always on watch, saw a
+canoe enter the lake, and who should appear but Levi, Martin's old guide.
+
+"I've been cookin' up at a lumber camp on the Moosehorn," he
+explained, after greetings had been exchanged, "an' I thought I
+would make a trip up here an' call on ye 'fore I went out."
+
+How welcome he was, and how all, even Amzi, of those winter-bound
+prisoners vied with each other in making him the guest of honor, need not
+be asserted. He had been a part of their life here the previous summer,
+with all its joys and dangers, and now seemed one of them.
+
+When mutual experiences and their winter's history had been exchanged,
+of course Chip's rescue, the half-breed's escape, and the whereabouts
+of her father came up for discussion that evening.
+
+"I've heard from Tim's Place two or three times this winter," said
+Levi, "an' neither Pete nor old McGuire has been seen or heard on
+since early last fall. Pete got thar all safe, but vowed revenge on
+McGuire, as Martin and I found, when we went out. He stayed round a week
+or so, I heard later, and then started for his cabin on the Fox Hole,
+'n' since then hain't never been seen or heard of by nobody. Tim
+an' Mike went over to his cabin 'long in the winter, but no signs of
+him was found, or even of his bein' thar since snow came. McGuire also
+seems to hev dropped out o' business and ain't been heard on since
+in the summer. We've expected him all winter at the lumber camp, but
+he didn't show up."
+
+"We've seen him," put in Old Cy, flashing a smile at Ray, "leastwise
+I callated 'twas him, though I never let on to that effect. He was
+trappin' over beyond a big swamp last fall, 'n' he paid us a visit,
+stole a half-dozen o' our catches 'n' left his trade-mark on our
+canoe." And then Old Cy told the story of their adventure, omitting,
+however, any reference to the supposed cave.
+
+"It's curis what has become o' him," Levi said, when the tale was
+told, "and our camp crowd all believe that thar's been foul play,
+with Pete at the bottom on't. Nobody's shed any tears, though, an'
+I'm thinkin' the woods is well rid o' him. He's been a terror to
+everybody long enough."
+
+Much more of this backwoods gossip and change of experience filled in
+the evening, and next morning Old Cy gave Ray a word of caution.
+
+"I kept whist 'bout our findin' what we callated was a cave," he
+said, "an' I want you to. This matter o' McGuire and the half-breed
+ain't blowed over yit, an' we don't want to git mixed up in it. Ez
+fer the cave, if we 'lowed we found one, the folks at Tim's Place 'ud
+go huntin' fer it, sure, 'n' I've my reasons for not wantin' they
+should go. So mum's the word to Levi 'bout it."
+
+Levi's arrival, however, changed their plans, for he at once offered to
+convoy Ray out of the woods, thus relieving Old Cy, and three days later
+these two, with well-laden canoes, started on the out-going journey.
+
+It was not without incident, for when the main stream was reached, it was
+dotted with floating logs and the red-shirted drivers with the bateaux
+and spike shoes were in evidence. A monster jam was met at the first
+rapid, the bags of gum nuts, bundles of firs, and canoes had to be
+carried around it, and when Tim's Place was reached, a score of the
+good-natured woodsmen were in possession.
+
+Levi discreetly avoided all questions as to what Tim knew of Chip,
+her father, or the half-breed. Ray's lips were also sealed, and so
+both escaped much questioning. Here, also, they learned what both had
+guessed--that McGuire and Pete had either left the wilderness or had
+perished that winter. Where and how, if such was the case, no one seemed
+to know or care, and a close observer would have said that every one at
+Tim's Place hoped that these two outlaws had met their fate.
+
+Old Tomah was also found at Tim's Place, and he was undeniably glad to
+see both Ray and Levi, and to learn that Chip was likely to be well cared
+for.
+
+When these two voyagers were ready to start, he joined and kept with
+them until the settlement was reached. Knowing full well the value of
+gum and furs, he soon found a purchaser for Ray's store and stock at
+its full value; and when that youth, now elated as never before, was
+ready to start for Greenvale, this fine old Indian showed almost a white
+man's emotion.
+
+"Take this to little girl," he said, handing Ray a package, "and tell
+her Old Tomah not forget. He hope she come back to see him soon."
+
+"Tell Mr. Frisbie I shall be here, waitin' to meet him, when he sends
+word," Levi said; and shaking hands with both of his good friends, Ray
+now bade them good-by with many thanks for all they had done.
+
+Of his homeward trip and all the charming anticipations now his, no
+mention need be made. They are but the flowers wisely strewn in the
+pathway of youth, and Ray--now more a man than when he entered the
+woods--full well deserved all that lay before him.
+
+But Old Tomah's heart was sad, and far away beside a rippled lake was
+another who felt the same.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+  "When ye see two hearts tryin' to beat ez one, gin 'em the
+  chance."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Chip's success and popularity in Greenvale was practically nullified
+by Hannah, who from wounded vanity and petty jealousy became her enemy
+from the outset.
+
+Aunt Comfort did not know it. Angie was not conscious of the facts, or,
+busy with her own social duties and home-making, gave them no thought.
+And yet, inspired by Hannah's malicious tongue, Greenvale looked upon
+poor Chip as one it was best to avoid.
+
+With Angie as sponsor, she had been made one of the Christmas church
+decorators, and had been twice invited to parties, only to exasperate
+Hannah all the more and cause an increase of sneers.
+
+"She's nobody an' an upstart," Hannah said at the first meeting of
+the village sewing circle after Chip's advent, "an' I've my doubts
+about her father an' mother ever bein' married. Then she's an infiddle
+an' believes in Injun sperrits an' hobgoblin things she calls spites,
+an' is a reg'lar heathen. I don't trust her a minit, an' never leave
+the house 'thout I lock up my things."
+
+Much more of this sort fell from Hannah's lips whenever occasion
+offered, though never within hearing of Aunt Comfort or Angie. Neither
+did the townspeople enlighten them, and so the undercurrent of innuendo
+and gossip, once started by Hannah, spread until all Greenvale looked
+askance at Chip.
+
+There was also some color for this ill repute, for Angie had concealed
+nothing, and Chip, foolishly perhaps, had asserted her belief when it
+would have been better to conceal it.
+
+The parson also, chagrined at his failure to make a convert of the girl,
+referred to her as "rebellious, obstinate in her ideas, and one who
+needed chastening."
+
+Her teacher, however, was her stanch friend. Aunt Comfort beamed upon her
+morning and night, while Angie, having provided her with home, raiment,
+opportunity for schooling, escort to church, and much good advice, felt
+that she had fulfilled her duty. And in a way, she had.
+
+But social recognition in a country village can be made or marred by
+such a person as Hannah, and quite unknown to those most interested,
+Chip's popularity was not decreed. Neither was she conscious of this
+undercurrent. Each day she went to and returned from school in a sturdy
+sort of way. A most devoted pupil, she never failed to thank her teacher
+for every word of help, and if--thanks to Hannah--she failed to make
+friends about the village, she won a place near to Aunt Comfort's heart.
+
+But somehow Aunt Comfort, who loved everybody alike, good or bad, or
+at least spoke no ill of the bad ones, didn't count. That she must
+inevitably take Chip under her motherly wing, all recognized. She had
+taken Hannah, then Angie and Nezer, and now this waif who, as Hannah
+insisted, was all bad; and according to Greenvale's belief, Aunt Comfort
+would keep on "taking in" homeless waifs and outcast mortals as long
+as she lived, or house room held out. And it was true.
+
+By midwinter Martin's new house was all furnished, and social
+obligations began to interest Angie, which made matters all the worse for
+Chip, for now Hannah could persecute her with less danger of exposure.
+
+But Chip was hard to persecute. She had known adversity in its worst
+form. Her life at Tim's Place had been practical slavery, and the worst
+that Hannah could do was as pin pricks compared to it.
+
+It is certain, also, if Chip had "spunked up," as Hannah would call
+it, now and then, it would have been better for her; but it wasn't
+Chip's way. To work and suffer in silence had been her lot at Tim's
+Place. Angie had said, "You must obey everybody and make friends," and
+impelled by experience, and this somewhat broad order, Chip was doing
+her best.
+
+One hope cheered her all that long, hard winter of monotonous study--the
+return of Ray, and possibly Old Cy, when summer came. Somehow these two
+had knit themselves into her life as no one else had or could. Then
+she wondered how Ray would seem to and feel toward her when he came,
+and if the little bond--a wondrous strong one, as far as her feelings
+went--would still call him to her side.
+
+Of love and its real meaning she was scarce conscious as yet. She simply
+felt that this youth with his sunny face and brown eyes was the one
+being on earth she wished to please. All the romance and pathos of
+that summer idyl, all the moonlight and canoeing, all the songs he had
+charmed her with, and every word and act of his from that first evening
+when, ragged and starving, she had stumbled into the camp, until she had
+parted from him with misty eyes, had been lived over by her countless
+times.
+
+It had all been a beacon of hope to her in the uphill road toward the
+temple of learning; and how hard she had studied, and how patiently she
+had tried to correct her own speech, not even her teacher guessed.
+
+Few of us can see ourselves as others see us, and yet Chip, mature
+of mind as one just entering womanhood, realized somewhat her own
+condition. Perhaps, also, she was conscious in some degree as to why
+she was not more popular, but that was a matter of scant interest to
+her. All she wished and all she strove for was to learn what others knew,
+speak as others spoke, and act as they acted; and all for one end and
+purpose--to win favor in the eyes of Ray.
+
+And so no one, not even Hannah, whose prying eyes saw all things, guessed
+her secret.
+
+A little of gall and bitterness was now and then meted out to Hannah
+in return for all her sneers, for Chip's teacher occasionally spent an
+evening at Aunt Comfort's, and every word of praise she let fall for
+her pupil was a thorn to Hannah. But she revenged herself, as might be
+expected.
+
+"I think that Injun gal's a witch," she said once to her bosom friend
+after one of these unpleasant evenings, "the way she pulls wool over
+Miss Phinney's eyes by pretending she's so anxious to learn. You'd
+think to hear her go on that learnin' was all she was livin' for, and
+her teacher almost an angel. I think Angie must 'a' ben spellbound
+the same way when she fetched her here to crowd out her betters."
+
+But Chip, fortunately, was still unconscious of the extent and injury
+of Hannah's malice.
+
+With the coming of springtime and green grass, life for Chip assumed
+a more smiling face, for now she could fly to the hillsides, and for
+the time being imagine herself at the lake once more. Somehow Greenvale
+as a whole had impressed her as cold and unloving, and to escape it was
+a relief. Her teacher was dear to her, Aunt Comfort a kindly mother,
+Angie a good friend; but none were kin to her and never could be, as
+she more and more realized.
+
+Then, too, poor Chip, in spite of Tim's Place, was growing homesick for
+the wilderness again; or, to be more accurate, for the little lake where
+her heart had been touched by the wand of love.
+
+With some insight into books and a developing mind came a keener
+sensitiveness, and what people thought of her and how they felt toward
+her became of more consequence. Her life was simple. She rose early,
+assisted as a housemaid in Aunt Comfort's home, departed at a set time
+for school with its six hours of almost unbroken study, and, most prized
+of all, a few moments' companionship with her teacher. To her Chip
+had confided all her joys and sorrows and most of her history as well.
+And be it said to Miss Phinney's credit, she had discretion and honor
+enough not to betray Chip's confidence.
+
+It is also possible, in fact almost certain, that that unfortunate
+waif's somewhat pitiful tale had won her teacher's interest and
+affection as naught else could. Only one reservation was made by
+Chip--her own feelings toward Ray. All else became an open book to
+Miss Phinney.
+
+When school was out, the two walked homeward together as far as their
+ways permitted, and then Chip obtained the one hour of the day which she
+felt was quite her own. At first, during the autumn days, she had used it
+for a scamper through the nutbrown woods. When winter came and it was
+not too cold, she occasionally visited the mill pond above the village,
+where, if the conditions were right, all the skating and sliding youth
+were gathered; and when blessed spring returned, it was away to the
+hills and fields once more.
+
+On Saturdays she seldom left the house, unless sent on an errand, and
+Sunday became a day of penance.
+
+"I don't know why folks watch me so much when I go to meetin'," Chip
+complained once to her teacher, "but they do, and I don't like it. I
+can see now why they did when I first came. I guess they thought I was
+an Injun, maybe; but what do I do now to make 'em so curious?"
+
+"Oh, I wouldn't mind them," Miss Phinney answered soothingly, "no
+one intends to annoy you; but it takes a long time for people here to
+become accustomed to a stranger."
+
+Miss Phinney dared not tell her pupil that her somewhat wild belief
+and unquestionably rude origin and early life formed the basis of this
+curiosity.
+
+And now, when the flowers and birds had once more returned to Greenvale,
+and Ray might return any day, a little plan that Chip had had in mind
+for many weeks took shape. She knew Ray must come on the stage, and eager
+for a sight of his face as only love can make one, she meant to be the
+first to meet and greet him.
+
+A mile down the village street and beyond the last house was a sharp
+hilltop. The stage usually reached here about an hour after the close of
+school, and to this vantage point, where she could hide behind a stone
+wall, Chip now betook herself each day.
+
+Her plans for meeting her young hero were well considered. She was sure
+he would, like herself, prefer a seat with Uncle Joe. That important
+person, whose heart she had won by her admiration of his horses on her
+arrival, would surely invite her to ride into the village, if he saw her.
+If he was alone, she would remain hid; but if _some one_ was with him,
+she would then disclose herself and the coveted invitation and meeting
+with Ray would follow.
+
+It was a vague, uncertain plan. No one in Greenvale had the remotest idea
+when Ray would return. Chip only knew that he was expected in the spring.
+The day, or even week, was a long-range guess. But even that slim chance
+poor, lonesome, heart-longing Chip would not miss, and so each day at
+close of school she hurried to her lookout point to watch and wait.
+
+It was a silly, almost hopeless sentinelship, as she knew well enough;
+but with the dog's heart that was hers, she would keep her vigil, and
+like one of those dumb brutes, wait weeks, months, ay, years even, for a
+master coming.
+
+It was mid-April when Chip began her daily watch, and missed no day
+unless a pelting rain prevented. It was June ere she won her reward, and
+then one balmy afternoon when she saw the stage afar, there, perched
+beside Uncle Joe, was--a companion!
+
+How sure that weary, waiting waif was that her heart was not mistaken!
+How her pulses leaped and thrilled as the slow-moving stage crept up
+the hill; and how Ray, eager to catch the first glimpse of his native
+village, saw a winsome, smiling face shaded by a flower-decked hat,
+peeping at him over a wall, was but a minor episode in the lives of
+these two; yet one to be recalled many, many times afterward and always
+with a heartache.
+
+None came to them now, for on the instant Ray saw who was waiting for him
+he halted the stage, and the next moment he was beside his sweetheart.
+And Uncle Joe, with the wisdom and sympathy of old age, discreetly
+averted his face, and said "Go-lang" to his horses, and drove on alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+  "There ain't but few folks smell woollen quite quick enough."
+  --Old Cy Walker.
+
+During all the long weeks while Chip had awaited her lover's coming,
+one hope had been hers--that his return would end all her loneliness and
+begin a season of the happy, care-free days like those by the lake once
+more.
+
+And there were many reasons for it.
+
+In this quiet, strictly religious, gossip-loving village, a dependant
+upon charity, as it were, and with Hannah's sneers, Chip had slowly but
+surely learned how little akin she was to them all, and how distrustful
+they all were of her. This knowledge had come by degrees: first, from
+the way in which the older pupils at school regarded her, having
+always kept aloof; then the insistent staring she received each Sunday
+at church; the somewhat chilly reception she had met in a social
+way; and lastly, a seeming indifference on Angie's part. There was no
+reason for it all, so far as Chip could understand. She walked in
+the straight and narrow path laid out for her each day, made herself
+useful between school hours at Aunt Comfort's, studied hard, thanked
+Angie for every trifle, and after her first unfortunate experience in
+defending her belief in spites and Old Tomah's hobgoblins, she had
+never referred to them again. But the seeming fact that she was disliked
+and unwelcome here had slowly forced itself upon her and added to her
+loneliness.
+
+It was all to end, however, when Ray came. In him or from him she would
+find a welcome. He knew her as she was, and what she was. He had not been
+distrustful, but tender and loving, and all clouds and sorrow and all
+humiliations would fade away when he came.
+
+She had pictured to herself, also, how much they would be together
+and where; how he would come to Aunt Comfort's the first evening and
+tell all about his winter in the wilderness and Old Cy,--all about
+the trap-setting, gum-gathering, and the deep snows she knew so much
+about. Maybe he would bring his banjo now and then and play and sing the
+darky songs she had hummed so many times. Possibly he might come and
+meet her occasionally on the way home from school; and when vacation
+came, how many long rambles they would take in the dear old woods, with
+no such ogre as the half-breed to spoil them. It had all been a rosy-hued
+dream with her, while she waited his coming. And now he was here!
+
+For the first few moments after he kissed her upraised lips, she could
+not speak for very joy; and then, as hand in hand they started toward
+the village, her speech came.
+
+"I've been so lonesome," she said simply, "I've counted the days,
+and come down here to meet you daily, for over a month. I don't like
+it here, and nobody likes me, I guess. I'm so glad you've come, though.
+Now I shan't be lonesome no more. I've studied hard, too," she added,
+with an accent of pride. "I can read and spell words of six syllables.
+I've ciphered up to decimal fractions, an' begun grammar."
+
+"I'm glad to get home, too," answered Ray, as simply. "It was
+lonesome in the woods all winter, when we couldn't tend the traps. But
+I've made a lot of money--'most five hundred dollars--all mine, too.
+How is everybody?" And so they dropped from sentiment into commonplace.
+
+At the tavern he secured his belongings. At the corner where their ways
+parted, he bade Chip a light good-by, and with an "I'll see you soon,"
+left her.
+
+Her hero had arrived. They had met, kissed as lovers should, and the
+lonely waiting and watching days were at an end and a new life was to
+begin for Chip.
+
+Little did she realize what it would mean for her, or how utterly her
+hopes were to fail.
+
+"He will come to-night," her heart assured her, and that evening,
+without a word to Aunt Comfort or Hannah as to whom she expected, she
+arrayed herself in her one best dress and awaited his expected visit.
+
+And what a propitious and all-favoring evening it was! The June night
+was balmy. Blooming lilacs and syringas half hid, as well as adorned, the
+porch of Aunt Comfort's home. Aunt Comfort had just departed to make
+a call, Hannah was away at prayer meeting, and "no one nigh to hinder."
+
+But Chip waited in vain!
+
+The drowsy hum of the Mizzy Falls, up the village street, came to her;
+the fireflies twinkled amid the dense-growing maples and over the broad
+meadows; whippoorwills called across the valley; but no lover came to
+Chip. One, two, almost three hours she waited and watched. Then came
+Aunt Comfort and Hannah, and heavy-hearted and lonesome once more, poor
+Chip retired.
+
+At school next day her mind and heart were at war. The parts of speech
+and rules of subtraction and division seemed complete chaos, and when
+homeward bound, she loitered slowly along, hoping Ray would make amends
+and meet her on the way. But again he failed to appear.
+
+And that night, when alone with Hannah, a worse blow came.
+
+"I heerd young Stetson got back yesterday," she said, fixing her
+steely blue eyes on Chip, "an' you went down the road to meet him. I
+should think you'd be 'shamed o' yourself. If you're callatin'
+on settin' your cap for him, 'twon't do a mite o' good. His aunt
+wouldn't think o' havin' sich an outcast ez you for him--that I can
+tell ye."
+
+But not a word of reply came from poor Chip. Such speeches were not new
+to her, and she had long before ceased to answer them. But this one, from
+its very truth, hurt more than all others had, and, crushed by it, she
+stole away out of the house.
+
+No thought that Ray might call came to her. She only wished to escape
+somewhere, that she might cry away her misery and shame in solitude.
+
+The evening was but a repetition of the previous one. The same sweet
+influence and silvered light was all about, but no heed of its beauty
+came to Chip. Instead, she felt herself a shameful thing of no account.
+Her lover had failed her--now she knew why, and as she sped along the
+lonely way to the schoolhouse, scarce conscious of her steps, all hope
+and all joy left her. Why or for what purpose she was hurrying toward
+this deserted little building, she knew not. Hot tears filled her eyes.
+Shame surged in her heart. She was a nobody in the eyes of all her
+world, and once she had reached the worn sill, so often crossed by
+her, she threw herself upon it and sobbed in utter despair.
+
+For a long hour she sat there while the tide of feeling ebbed and tears
+came unchecked, and then the reaction came. With it, also, came something
+of the old courage and defiance that had once led her to face night,
+danger, and sixty miles of wilderness alone.
+
+"I have made a mistake," she said, sitting up, "and Hannah was right.
+I am a nobody here, and Ray has been told so and has kept away."
+
+And now with returning calm, and soothed, maybe, by the still, ethereal
+night, she saw herself, her past and present, as it all was. Back in
+an instant she sped in thought to the moment when, kneeling to these
+people, she begged for food; back to that first prayer she ever heard
+in the tent, and the offer of rescue that followed.
+
+And then her life here, with all its hopes and humiliation, rose before
+her.
+
+"It was all wrong, my coming here," she said, looking away to the
+village where lights twinkled; "I am not their sort, nor they mine.
+I'd better go away."
+
+Then, lifted a wee bit by this new resolve, she rose and returned to the
+house.
+
+The tall clock in the sitting room was just chiming ten when she entered,
+and Aunt Comfort was there alone.
+
+"Raymond was here this evening," she said kindly, "and waited quite
+a spell. Where have you been?"
+
+"Oh, nowhere," answered Chip, pleasantly, "only I was lonesome and
+went out for a walk."
+
+Little did good Aunt Comfort realize what a volcano of hope, despair,
+shame, and tender love was concealed beneath that calm answer, or the
+new resolve budding in Chip's heart.
+
+No more did Ray suspect it when he met her coming home from school the
+next afternoon.
+
+For during those two wretched hours when she was alone on the worn
+schoolhouse step, poor Chip McGuire, the low-born, pitiful waif, had
+become a woman and put away girlish impulses.
+
+"I couldn't come to see you that first evening," he said at once,
+"for uncle and aunty kept me talking till bedtime. Where were you last
+night?"
+
+"Oh, I didn't much think you would come," answered Chip, calmly,
+smiling at him in a far-off way. "I am a nobody here, as you will soon
+find out, and I don't expect--anything. I got lonesome last night and
+went off for a walk."
+
+Ray looked at her in wide-eyed astonishment. And well he might, for only
+two short days since she had met him, an eager, simple girl, and now she
+spoke like a woman. No word, no hint of his neglect, escaped her; but
+a cool indifference was apparent.
+
+"Tell me about the woods and Old Cy," she said, not waiting for him
+to speak again, "and how is the hermit? I want to know all about them."
+
+"Oh, I left 'em all right," answered Ray, sullenly, for like a boy
+he wanted to be coaxed. And then, urged a little by Chip, he told his
+winter's experience.
+
+One episode interested her most of all--the strange trapper's doings,
+his theft of their game, their pursuit of him and discovery of his hiding
+spot.
+
+"I know who that was," she said, when it was all described. "It was
+my father, and if he had caught you spying upon him, I guess he'd shot
+you both. He always used to go somewhere trapping every fall; but nobody
+could ever find where."
+
+This return to the memories of the wilderness wore away something of
+Chip's cool reserve, and when the house was reached her eyes had grown
+tender.
+
+"I shall be glad to see you often--as--as your folks will let you
+come," she said, somewhat timidly when they parted; and scarce
+understanding this speech, Ray left her.
+
+"Chip has changed a whole lot," he said to his aunt a little later,
+"and I wish she hadn't; she don't seem the same any more."
+
+"I'm glad of it if she has," answered Angie, smiling at him. "There
+was need enough of it."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+Old Cy had builded wiser than he realized when he coaxed Ray to spend
+a winter in the woods.
+
+The long tramps through the vast wilderness; the keen hunt for signs of
+mink, fisher, otter, and wildcat, with constant guard against danger;
+the unremitting though zestful labor of gum-gathering; the far-sighted
+need for winter preparation; and last but not least Old Cy's cheerful
+philosophy, had broadened the lad and developed both muscle and mind.
+
+His success, too, had encouraged him. He was eager to try another season
+there, and planned for hiring men to gather gum, and saw in this vocation
+possible future.
+
+But the change in Chip puzzled him. He had returned, expecting to find
+her the same timid, yet courageous little girl, ready to be his companion
+at all times and to kiss him when he chose--a somewhat better-educated
+girl, of course, using more refined language, but otherwise the same
+confiding child, as it were.
+
+She was all this the day of his return; and then, presto! like a sudden
+blast of cold air came a change. Too loyal to her to question any one,
+he could only wonder why this change.
+
+He called again soon after that first, unsatisfying walk home with her,
+to find her the same cool, collected young lady. She was nice to him,
+induced him to talk of the woods once more and his own plans; but it was
+not the Chip of old who listened, but quite another person.
+
+"I am going back to the lake with uncle and aunt," he said at last,
+"and I mean to coax them to take you along. You have been shut up in
+school so long, it will do you good."
+
+"Please don't say a word to them about it," she urged, in hurt tone,
+"for it will do no good. I wouldn't go, anyway."
+
+"Not go to the woods if you could," he exclaimed in astonishment;
+"why, what do you mean?"
+
+"Just what I say," she returned firmly, and then added wistfully,
+"I'd fly there, if I had wings. I'd give my life, almost, for one more
+summer like the last. But I shall not go again now, and maybe never."
+
+It was unaccountable and quite beyond Ray's ken--this strange decision
+of hers--and her "Please don't say any more about it," closed the
+subject.
+
+Another and even greater shock came to Ray when late that evening, on the
+porch, he essayed to kiss her.
+
+"No, no; please don't," she said with almost a sob, pushing him away.
+"It's silly now, and--and--you mustn't."
+
+A week later school closed, and Chip's conduct was then also a puzzle
+to Miss Phinney. As usual on these occasions, when the hour came, each
+pupil, young and old, filed past the teacher at her desk, the boys to
+shake hands, the girls to be kissed, and all bade good-by, after which
+they trooped away, glad to escape.
+
+This ceremony now took place as usual. All departed except Chip, and
+she remained at her desk. Some intuition of pity or sympathy drew Miss
+Phinney to her at once; and then, at the first word from her, Chip gave
+way to tears--not light ones, but sobs that shook her as a great grief.
+Vainly Miss Phinney tried to cheer and console her, stroking the bowed
+head until her own eyes grew misty.
+
+"I didn't mean to give way," Chip said at last, looking up and
+brushing away the tears, "but you've been so good and patient with
+me, I couldn't help it. I hain't many friends here, I guess, and--"
+choking back another sob--"I shall be more lonesome'n ever."
+
+It was true enough, as Miss Phinney well understood, and somehow her
+heart went out to this unfortunate girl now, as never before.
+
+"You mustn't think about that," she said at last, in her most soothing
+voice, "but come and see me as often as you can--every day, if you
+like, for I shall always be glad to have you. I'd keep on studying, if I
+were you," she added, as Chip brightened, "it will help you on, and I
+will gladly hear you recite every day."
+
+Then hand in hand, like two sisters, they left the dear old schoolhouse.
+Little did Miss Phinney, good soul that she was, realize how recently
+poor Chip had cried her heart almost out on its well-worn sill, or that
+never again would this strange, winsome, woman-grown pupil enter that
+temple.
+
+At the parting of their ways the two embraced, kissed, and with
+tear-dimmed eyes separated.
+
+"I can't account for it," Miss Phinney said to herself when well away.
+"It may be a love-affair with young Stetson, or it may be something
+worse."
+
+That evening she called on Angie. The result was fruitless, so far as
+obtaining any light upon this puzzling matter was concerned, for Angie
+was either blind to the situation, or feigned ignorance.
+
+"They were together all last summer, of course," she said, "in fact,
+they were forced to be like two children, you know. I was glad to have
+it so, feeling it would benefit the girl. If any love flame was started
+then, it has had ample time to die out since."
+
+"There is something else the matter with Chip, then," Miss Phinney
+rejoined, "she has been moody and quite upset at times for the past few
+weeks, and to-day when school closed, she sobbed like a brokenhearted
+woman. It was quite pathetic, and I had to cry myself."
+
+That night Angie took counsel of her husband.
+
+"Well, what if it is so," he responded, to her suggestion that a
+love-affair might have started between them. "It won't harm either.
+So far as I've observed, the girl couldn't have been better behaved
+since she came here. She has never missed an hour at school all winter,
+no matter how cold it has been. Her teacher says she has made wonderful
+progress. She has attended church with you every Sunday, and as for
+Ray--well, if I were in his shoes, I'd be in love with her myself."
+
+It was clear enough that Angie's fears were not shared by Martin.
+
+"But think of her origin and parentage," answered Angie, "and that
+outlaw father who might appear at any time! The very idea of Ray marrying
+her is preposterous. It would wreck his life."
+
+"But what about Chip?" returned Martin, who had broader views of life.
+"You brought her here to Christianize and educate her; do you propose
+to turn her adrift because she has a pretty face and the boy sees it? She
+isn't to blame for her origin. As for Ray, if he shows that he is able
+to support a wife and wants her, I honor him for it, and I'll give him
+a house to start with."
+
+At Aunt Comfort's, however, no signs of love troubles were visible;
+in fact, no signs of any sort, except the malicious "hanging around"
+interference of Hannah whenever Ray was there. She seemed to feel it
+her duty to remain on guard at such times, much to Ray's disgust. No
+annoyance at this was apparent in Chip. She helped at housework, studied
+at odd hours, and when Ray came she met and talked with him as if he were
+a brother.
+
+The day he was to leave Greenvale was close at hand, however, and the
+evening before he came early, bringing his banjo, and by tacit consent,
+perhaps to escape Hannah, they both left the house at once.
+
+Just above the village there was a long, narrow pond, wooded upon one
+side and around its upper end, with partially cleared land and scattered
+trees along the opposite bank. One of these trees was a monster beech
+near the water's edge, the trunk of which was scarred by many entwined
+initials.
+
+To this lovers' trysting tree now came Ray and Chip.
+
+The evening was not one for romance, for no moon graced it--only stars
+were reflected from the pond's motionless surface, while fireflies
+twinkled above it.
+
+The shadow of the near parting also hovered over these two as, hand
+in hand, they picked their way up and along the bank; and once seated
+beneath the tree, it seemed to forbid speech.
+
+"I wish you'd play some of the songs you used to," Chip said at last
+hurriedly, "I'd like to think I'm back at the lake again."
+
+Glad to do so, Ray drew out his banjo and began to tune it. He started
+a song also--one of the "graveyardy" ones which Old Cy had interdicted,
+but choked at once and stopped abruptly.
+
+"I can't sing to-night," he said, "I'm too blue about going away."
+
+There were two in this frame of mind, evidently, for Chip made no
+protest, and for another long interval they watched the fireflies
+and listened to the whippoorwills.
+
+"I wish you were going back with us," Ray said at last. "It breaks
+my heart to go away so soon and leave you. Why won't you let me ask my
+uncle to take you? He might be glad to do it, just for me."
+
+"No," answered Chip, firmly, "you mustn't. It would shame me so that
+I couldn't look them in the face." Then, as if this subject and their
+own feelings must be avoided, she added hurriedly, "Tell me what you
+will do when the folks come back--whether you will come with them or stay
+at the lake?"
+
+"Stay there, I suppose," answered Ray, somewhat doggedly, for
+money-making and love were in conflict. "Old Cy says we can make a
+lot of money if I will. I wish I were rich," he added with a sigh.
+
+He was not the first young man to whom that wish had come at such a
+moment. But converse between them was at ebb tide just now, and the
+parting moment, ever creeping nearer, overshadowed all else. To
+Chip--known only to herself--it meant forever. To Ray, another long
+isolation from all the world and young associates, and all for a few
+hundred dollars sorely needed by him, yet seeming of scant value
+compared to the sweet companionship of this maid.
+
+Then Chip's feelings and the reason for them were quite beyond him.
+He could not see why she was unwilling to ask to be taken to the woods
+again, nor why she held herself aloof from him. She had not done so at
+the lake, or when they met again, and why should she now?
+
+Something of this might have been inferred by Chip, for she suddenly
+arose.
+
+"I think we'd best go back," she said. "It's time, and Hannah will
+be watching for me."
+
+What Ray might have said had he been a world-wise man, does not matter.
+What he did was to pick up his useless banjo, and clasping Chip's arm,
+led her along the winding walk.
+
+Below the falls and near the house they paused, for now the last moment
+alone together had come, and with it the real parting.
+
+"Tell Old Cy I--I haven't forgot him," whispered Chip, her voice
+quivering, "and--and--you won't forget me either, will you, Ray?"
+
+That little sob in her speech was all that was needed to break away the
+barrier between them, for the next instant Ray's arms were about the
+girl.
+
+No words of love, no protestations, no promises. Only one instant's
+meeting of soul and impulse, fierce as love of life, sacred as the hand
+of death.
+
+Love consecrated it. The shadowing maples blessed it. The stars hallowed
+it.
+
+And yet it was a long, long parting.
+
+When Ray rode away next morning, he watched for her at the first sharp
+hilltop.
+
+It was in vain, for Chip's resolve had been taken, and he never saw the
+forlorn figure crouching behind that bush-topped wall, or knew that two
+wistful, misty eyes had seen him depart.
+
+Few of us ever see even a faint image of ourselves as others see us;
+and yet, calm reflection spurred to self-analysis by a hungry heart
+occasionally effects that almost miracle.
+
+In Ray's case it did; for after his eager eyes had scanned every rod
+of that roadside trysting-place in vain, a revelation came to him--not
+a wide open one, such as he deserved, but a glance at himself and his
+conduct as it had been. First he saw Chip just as she entered their camp
+that night in the wilderness, so pitiful in appearance, so pathetic in
+her abject gratitude. Once again he looked at her appealing eyes growing
+misty while he played and sang his old-time love songs. He remembered
+that during all the days, weeks, and months following, he had never
+failed to find the love-light of admiration when his eyes met hers.
+It had all been a summer idyl, so sweet, so romantic, so tender, and
+so unexpected that he had scarce realized its value--not at all then,
+but faintly now.
+
+For all that up-hill, down-dale journey to Riverton, he lived over
+this moonlit lake and wilderness camp episode, and every hour and
+every thought shared with him by this girl--a playmate and lover
+combined--returned again like echoes of past and gone heart throbs,
+each time a little sweeter, each time a trifle more piercing, until
+his own self-complacency faded quite away and an abject penitence
+began to replace it. For the first time in his callow youth he began to
+reflect, and once started on this beneficial course, the barometer of
+his vanity fell rapidly. It was not long ere his own conduct since he
+returned to Greenvale also added an assault. He had utterly failed to
+realize the meaning of Chip's abject devotion--her pitiful
+first-hour confessions of how hard she had studied, and all for his
+sake; how she had counted days and hours until he was likely to
+return; how many times she had gone to the hilltop to watch for him; and
+even the eagerness of her arms and the warmth of her lips at that first
+moment of meeting, now came back to him.
+
+Another and even a more painful self-reproach followed this--his own
+neglect of opportunities and the result.
+
+He had returned to Greenvale feeling that Chip was his devoted slave
+and had found that she was. Like many another arrogant youth, he had
+plumed himself upon that fact, taking everything for granted. He had
+yielded to his aunt's and other friends' coaxings to tell his past
+winter's history of life in the woods, feeling that Chip could and
+would wait; and then, an unexpected and most vexatious frost had fallen
+upon his little love-garden, and presto! his confiding sweetheart, his
+almost abject slave, was one no longer.
+
+At the moment of starting, that wildwood camp and charming lake had
+seemed a Mecca which he must hasten to reach once more. When he again
+beheld it, it had lost its fairness, and to return to Greenvale and
+beg and implore Chip's forgiveness--ay, even kneel to her, if need
+be--seemed the only duty life held.
+
+His punishment had only just begun.
+
+
+
+
+PART II
+
+VERA RAYMOND
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+For a few more days, Chip lived the life that had now become unbearable,
+and then the end came. It was hastened, perhaps, by Hannah, for that
+ill-tempered spinster had been ever watchful, and with shrewd insight
+had seen or guessed all that had transpired.
+
+"I s'pose ye know why the Frisbies hurried away so soon after Ray got
+back," she said to Chip that last day. "If you don't, I can tell ye.
+It was 'cos they noticed the goin's on 'tween you an' him, an'
+wanted to head it off."
+
+Not a word of protest came from the poor child in response to this sneer,
+and that night she wrote two notes, one to Miss Phinney, the other to
+Aunt Comfort. Then, making a bundle of the few belongings she could call
+her own--the beaded moccasins, cap, and fur cape old Tomah had given
+her, and other trifles--she waited until almost midnight and stole out
+of the house.
+
+Once before she had left her only shelter, in a more desperate mood.
+Now the same impulse nerved her, and for ample reason. Dependent upon
+the bounty of those in no wise kin to her, tortured by the sarcastic
+tongue of Hannah, her heart hungering for a love she believed could
+never be hers, no other outcome seemed possible; and defiant still,
+yet saddened beyond all words, she set out to escape it all.
+
+Where to go, she knew not nor cared--only to leave Greenvale and all the
+shame, sorrow, and humiliation it held for her, and make her own way in
+the world as best she could.
+
+The village street was as silent as midnight always found it. The low
+murmur of the Mizzy Falls whispered down the valley. A half-moon was
+just rising, and as Chip reached the hilltop where she had waited for
+Ray, she halted. From here must be taken the last glance at Greenvale,
+and as she turned about a sob rose in her heart, in spite of her stern
+resolve, for ties cannot be sundered easily.
+
+And how vivid and life-lasting was that picture! The two long rows of
+white houses facing the broad street, the tall-spired church in the
+middle of them; scattered dwellings to the right and left; away to one
+side the little brown schoolhouse that had been her Mecca; the stream
+that wound through the broad meadows; and over all the faint sheen of the
+rising moon.
+
+Only for a moment she paused for this good-bye look, then turned and
+ran. On and on she sped mile after mile, up hill, down hill, halting now
+and then for breath until a cross-road was reached, and here she stopped.
+Here also came the question of direction. To follow the main road was
+to reach Riverton, between which and Greenvale the stage journeyed. To
+go there meant being recognized perhaps. In her study of geography,
+she had found that the village which was her birthplace lay northeast
+from Greenvale. She meant sometime and somehow to reach that spot and
+visit her mother's grave once more, and also, if possible, to send
+word to Old Tomah. And so guided by this vague plan, she turned to the
+left.
+
+From now on the road became narrow. Miles elapsed between houses, and
+Chip, wearied and heavy-eyed, could only creep along. The way became
+more devious now, bending around a wooded hill and then crossing a
+wide swamp to enter a stretch of forest. Direction became lost in these
+turnings, the road grew hilly and less travelled. The moon scarce showed
+it; and Chip, almost exhausted, stumbled over stones and felt that
+she was becoming lost in an unsettled country. And then, just as she
+emerged from a thicket and ascended a low hill, the light of coming
+dawn faced her, and with it the need of sleep and concealment.
+
+Full well she knew she must avoid all observing eyes and place many
+more miles between herself and Greenvale to be certain of escape. And
+then, as the daylight increased, she caught sight of an old, almost
+ruined dwelling half hid among bushes just ahead. Even if empty, as it
+appeared, it would serve for shelter, and finding it so, she crept in,
+so wearied that she fell asleep at once on the warped and mouldy floor.
+
+It was only a brief nap, for soon the rattle of a passing farm wagon woke
+her, but refreshed somewhat by it, she again pushed on.
+
+Soon a brook, singing cheerfully as it tumbled down a ledge, was reached,
+and here Chip bathed her face and hands and drank of the sweet, cool
+water.
+
+Hunger also asserted itself, but that did not daunt her. She had faced
+it once before.
+
+Then something of a plan as to her future movements began to shape itself
+in her mind, following which came an increased courage and self-reliance.
+Not a cent did she now possess. Food she could not have until she had
+made good her escape and could earn it somewhere.
+
+But the sun was shining, the birds were singing, her young, supple body
+was strong, life and the world were ahead; and, best of all, never again
+would she have to feel herself a dependent upon any one.
+
+With these blessings, scant to most of us, hardened as she had been by
+servitude at Tim's Place, came a certain buoyancy of spirit and defiance
+of all things human.
+
+No wild beasts were here to menace, no spites to creep and crawl along
+fence or hedgerow, no hideous half-breed to pursue, and as she counted
+her blessings, while her spirits rose, a new life and new hope came to
+her.
+
+And now another feeling came--the certainty that she had come so far that
+no one would recognize her. At first that morning, when she heard a team
+coming or overtaking her, she had hidden by the roadside until it passed.
+When a house was sighted ahead, she made a wide detour in the fields to
+avoid it. Now this sense of caution vanished, and she strode on fearless
+and confident.
+
+When night came again she crept into an unused sheep barn, and when
+daylight wakened her, she hurried on once more.
+
+During all that first day's journey, her one fear had been that some one
+she would meet might recognize her and report the fact in Greenvale. To
+avoid that had been her sole thought. Now that feeling of danger was
+vanishing, and when people were met, she looked at them fearlessly and
+kept on. When cross-roads were reached and a choice in ways became
+necessary, she followed the one nearest to northeast, and for the reason
+that her school map had shown that her birthplace lay in this direction.
+How far away it was, she had not the faintest idea, or whether she
+could live to reach it. Her sole thought was to escape Greenvale and
+the humiliating life of dependence there, and when she was so far away
+that no one could find her, obtain work at some farm-house.
+
+All that second day she plodded on that same patient up-hill, down-dale
+journey, never halting except to pick a few berries, or where a brook
+crossed the road to obtain a handful of watercress or some sweet-flag
+buds.
+
+Now and then villages were passed, again it was country sparsely settled,
+where farm-houses were wide apart, and when this day was waning, even
+these had vanished and she found herself in almost a wilderness once more.
+
+[Illustration: "Won't you please give me a lift an' a chance to earn
+my vittles for a day or two?"]
+
+Hills now met her already weary feet; they seemed never ending, for as
+the crown of one was reached, another met her eyes. The roadway also
+became badly gullied, always stony, with grass growing in the hollows.
+
+By now she was faint and dizzy from two days' fasting, and so footsore
+that she could scarce limp along. So far her defiant pride had kept her
+from begging food, but now that was weakening, and at the next house she
+would have asked a morsel. But no next house came. Only the same scrub
+growth along the wayside with now and then a patch of forest, with never
+a fence, even, to indicate human ownership.
+
+The sun had now vanished. Already the stretches of forest were shadowy,
+and as Chip reached the apex of another long hill, beyond and far below
+she could see another darkened valley. Night seemed creeping up from it
+to meet her. Not a house, not even a fence or recent clearing--only the
+unending tangle of green growth and this dark vale beyond.
+
+"I guess I'll starve 'fore I find another house," poor Chip muttered,
+and then as the utter desolation of her situation and surroundings were
+realized for a moment, her defiant courage gave way.
+
+For two days and half a night she had plodded on without food and with
+scarce a moment's rest. Her feet were blistered, her eyes smarted
+from sun and dust, her head swam. She was miles away from any human
+habitation, footsore, weary, and despondent, with night enclosing her--a
+homeless waif, still clinging to the small bundle that contained her all.
+
+But now as she crouched by the roadside, too exhausted to move on, the
+memory of those three days and nights of horror, one year ago, came to
+her. Her plight was bad enough now, but nothing to compare with what it
+was then, and as all the terror and desperation of that mad flight now
+returned, it renewed her courage.
+
+"I ain't so bad off as I was then," she said. "I'm sure of finding
+a house to-morrow."
+
+And now, as if this moment marked the turning-point of her fortunes,
+from far down the hill she had climbed, came the faint creak, creak,
+and jolting sound of an ascending wagon. Slowly it neared, until just
+at the hilltop where Chip sat, the tired horse halted, and its driver saw
+her rise almost beside the wagon.
+
+"Mister," she said, "I'm nearly tuckered out and 'bout starved.
+Won't you please give me a lift an' a chance to earn my vittles for
+a day or two?"
+
+The man gave a low whistle.
+
+"Why sartin, sartin," he answered in a moment, "but who be ye? I
+thought for a minute ye was a sperit. Git up here," he added, without
+waiting for a reply and moving to make room. Then as Chip obeyed, he
+chirruped to his horse and down the hill they rattled.
+
+"Who might be ye, girlie, an' whar'd ye come from?" he asked again,
+as they came to another ascent and the horse walked.
+
+"My name's Vera, Vera--Raymond," answered Chip, "an' I run away from
+where I was livin'."
+
+"That's curis," answered the old man, glancing at her; "whar'd ye
+run away from, some poor farm?"
+
+"No, sir," replied Chip, almost defiantly, "but I guess I was a sort
+o' pauper. I was livin' with folks that fetched me out o' the woods
+an' was schoolin' me, and I couldn't stand it, so I run away. I don't
+want to tell where they be, or where I came from either," she added
+in a moment, "for I don't want them ever to find me."
+
+"Wal, that's a proper sort o' feelin'," responded the man, still
+looking at his passenger, "an' I don't mind. I live down beyond here
+in what's called the Holler. Somebody called it Peaceful Valley once.
+We'll take keer o' ye to-night 'n' to-morrer we'll see what's best
+to be done. I guess ye need a hum 'bout ez bad ez a body kin, anyway."
+
+And so Chip McGuire, waif of the wilderness and erstwhile protegee of a
+philanthropic woman, as Vera Raymond found another home, and began still
+another life with this old farmer, Judson Walker, and his wife Mandy.
+
+But a sorrow deeper far than Chip ever realized fell upon Aunt Comfort
+when her brimming eyes read her note the morning after her flight.
+
+    "Dear Aunt Comfort,
+
+    "I can't stand Hannah or being a pauper any longer. She as
+    good as told me I wanted your money and I never thought of
+    it. She said I wasn't good enough for Ray, either, and that
+    was the reason Mrs. Frisbie took him away so soon. I know I
+    ain't good for nothin' nor nobody, but I didn't ask to
+    be fetched here and I am going away, never, never, never to
+    come back. If ever I can, I will pay you and Mrs. Frisbie for
+    all I've eat and had.
+
+                                        "Good-bye Forever,
+                                                        "Chip."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+  "There's a heap o' comfort in lookin' on the dark side o'
+  life cheerfully."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Old Cy especially found life dull after Ray had gone. The hermit also
+appeared to miss him and became more morose than ever. He never had
+been what might be termed social, speaking only when spoken to, and then
+only in the fewest possible words. Now Old Cy became almost a walking
+sphinx, and found that time passed slowly. His heartstrings had somehow
+become entwined with Ray's hopes and plans. He had bent every energy
+and thought to secure for Ray a valuable stock of furs and gum, and,
+as was his nature, felt a keen satisfaction in helping that youth to
+a few hundred dollars.
+
+Now Ray had departed, furs, gum, and all. He had promised to return with
+Martin and Angie later on, but of that Old Cy felt somewhat dubious, and
+so the old man mourned.
+
+There was no real reason for it, for all Nature was now smiling. The lake
+was blue and rippled by the June breezes; trout leaped out of it night
+and morning; flowers were blooming, squirrels frisking, birds singing
+and nest-building; and what Old Cy most enjoyed, the vernal season was
+at hand.
+
+Another matter also disturbed him--the whereabouts of McGuire and the
+half-breed, Pete Bolduc.
+
+Levi had brought the information that neither had been seen nor heard
+of since the previous autumn; but that was not conclusive, and somehow
+Old Cy felt that a certain mystery had attached itself to them, and once
+we suspect a mystery, it pursues us like a phantom. He did not fear
+either of these renegades, however. He had never harmed them. But he
+felt that any day might bring a call from one or the other, or that some
+tragic outcome would be disclosed.
+
+Another problem also annoyed him--who this thief of their game could be,
+and whether his supposed cave lair was a permanent hiding-spot.
+
+Two reasons had kept Old Cy from another visit to that sequestered lake
+during the fall trapping season: first, its evident danger, and then lack
+of time. But now, with nothing to do except wait for the incoming ones,
+an impulse to visit again this mysterious spot came to him.
+
+He had, at the former excursion, felt almost certain that this unknown
+trapper was either McGuire or the half-breed. Some assertions made by
+Levi seemed to corroborate that theory, and impelled by it, Old Cy
+started alone, one morning, to visit this lake again. It took him until
+midday to carry his canoe, camp outfit, rifle, and all across from
+stream to stream, and twilight had come ere he reached the lagoon where
+he and Ray had left the main stream and camped. Up here Old Cy now
+turned his canoe, and repairing the bark shack they had built, which
+had been crushed by winter's snow, he camped there again.
+
+Next morning, bright and early, he launched his canoe and once more
+followed the winding stream through the dark gorge and out into the
+rippled lake again.
+
+Here he halted and looked about.
+
+No signs of aught human could be seen. The long, narrow lakelet sparkled
+beneath the morning sun. The bald mountain frowned upon it, the jagged
+ledges just across faced him like serried ramparts, an eagle slowly
+circled overhead, and, best indication of primal solitude, an antlered
+deer stood looking at him from out an opening above the ledges.
+
+"Guess I'm alone here!" exclaimed Old Cy, glancing around; "but if
+this ain't a pictur worth rememberin', I never saw one. Wish I could
+take it with me into t'other world; an' if I was sure o' findin' a
+spot like it thar, I'd never worry 'bout goin' when my time comes."
+
+After a long wait, as if he wanted to observe every detail of this
+wondrous picture of wildwood beauty, he dipped his paddle, crossed the
+sheet of rippled water, and stepped ashore at the very spot where he
+and Ray had landed over eight months before.
+
+"Great Scott!" he exclaimed, glancing around, "if thar ain't a canoe,
+bottom up! Two, by ginger!" he added, as he saw another drawn out and
+half hid by a low ledge.
+
+To this second one he hastened at once, and looked into it.
+
+It had evidently rested there all winter, for it was partially filled
+with water, and half afloat in it were two paddles and a setting pole.
+A gunny-cloth bag, evidently containing the usual cooking outfit of a
+woodsman, lay soaking in one end, a frying-pan and an axe were rusting
+in the other, and a coating of mould had browned each crossbar and thwart.
+
+"Been here quite a spell, all winter, I guess," muttered Old Cy,
+looking it over, and then he advanced to the other canoe. That was,
+as he asserted, bottom up, and also lay half hid back of a jutting
+ledge of slate. Two paddles leaned against this ledge, and near by was
+another setting pole. All three of these familiar objects were brown
+with damp mould and evidently had rested there many months.
+
+"Curis, curis," muttered Old Cy again. "I callated I'd find nothin'
+here, 'n' here's two canoes left to rot, 'n' been here all winter."
+
+Then with a vague sense of need, he returned to his canoe, seized his
+rifle, looked all around, over the lake, up into the green tangle above
+the ledges, and finally followed the narrow passage leading to where he
+had once watched smoke arise. Here on top of this ledge he again halted
+and looked about.
+
+Back of it was the same V-shaped cleft across which a cord had held
+drying pelts, the cord was still there, and below it he could see the
+dark skins amid the confusion of jagged stones.
+
+Turning, he stepped from this ledge to the lower one nearer the lake,
+walked down its slope, and looked about again. At its foot was a long,
+narrow, shelf-like projection, ending at the corner of the ledge. Old Cy
+followed this to its end and stepped down into a narrow crevasse.
+
+"Great Scott!" he exclaimed, taking a backward step as he did so.
+
+And well he might, for there at his feet lay a rifle coated with rust
+beside a brown felt hat.
+
+Had a grinning skull met his eyes, he would not have been more astounded.
+In fact, that was the next object he expected to see, and he glanced up
+and down the crevasse for it. None leered at him, however, and picking
+up the rusted weapon, he continued his search.
+
+Two rods or so below where he had climbed the upper ledge, he was halted
+again, for there, at his hand almost, was a curious doorlike opening some
+three feet high and one foot wide, back of an outstanding slab of slate.
+
+The two abandoned canoes had surprised him, the rusty rifle astonished
+him, but this, a self-evident cave entrance, almost took his breath away.
+
+For one instant he glanced at it, stepped back a step, dropped the rusty
+rifle and cocked his own, as if expecting a ghost or panther to emerge.
+None came, however, and once more Old Cy advanced and peered into this
+opening. A faint light illumined its interior--a weird slant of sunlight,
+yet enough to show a roomy cavern.
+
+The mystery was solved. This surely was the hiding-spot of the strange
+trapper!
+
+"Can't see why I missed it afore," Old Cy muttered, kneeling that he
+might better look within, and sniffing at the peculiar odor. "Wonder
+if the cuss is dead in thar, or what smells so!"
+
+Then he arose and grasped the slab of slate. One slight pull and it fell
+aside.
+
+"A nat'ral door, by hokey!" exclaimed Old Cy, and once more he knelt
+and looked in.
+
+The bravest man will hesitate a moment before entering such a cavern,
+prefaced, so to speak, by two abandoned canoes, a rusty rifle, human head
+covering, each and all bespeaking something tragic, and Old Cy was no
+exception. That he had come upon some grewsome mystery was apparent.
+Canoes were not left to rot in the wilderness or rifles dropped without
+cause.
+
+And then, that hat!
+
+Surely here, or hereabout, had been enacted a drama of murderous nature,
+and inside this cavern might repose its blood-stained sequel.
+
+But the filtering beams of light encouraged Old Cy, and he entered.
+No ghastly corpse confronted him, but instead a human, if cramped,
+abode. A fireplace deftly fashioned of slate occupied one side of this
+cave; in front a low table of the same flat stone, resting upon small
+ones; and upon the table were rusty tin dishes, a few mouldy hardtack, a
+knife, fork, and scraps of meat, exhaling the odor of decay. A smell of
+smoke from the charred wood in the fireplace mingled with it all. In
+one corner was a bed of brown fir twigs, also mouldy, a blanket, and
+tanned deerskins.
+
+The cave was of oval, irregular shape, barely high enough for Old Cy to
+stand upright. Across its roof, on either side of the rude chimney, a
+narrow crack admitted light, and as he looked about, he saw in the dim
+light another doorlike opening into still another cave. Into this he
+peered, but could see nothing.
+
+"A queer livin' spot," he muttered at last, "a reg'lar human panther
+den. An' 'twas out o' this I seen the smoke come. An' here's his
+gun," he added, as, more accustomed to the dim light, he saw one in
+a corner. "Two guns, two canoes, an' nobody to hum," he continued.
+"I'm safe, anyhow. But I've got to peek into that other cave, sartin
+sure," and he withdrew to the open air.
+
+A visit to a couple of birches soon provided means of light, and he
+again entered the cave. One moment more, and then a flaring torch of bark
+was thrust into the inner cave, a mere crevasse not four feet wide, and
+stooping, as he now had to, Old Cy entered and knelt while he looked
+about.
+
+He saw nothing here of interest except the serried rows of jutting slate,
+across two of which lay a slab of the same--no vestige of aught human,
+and Old Cy was about to retreat when his flare burning close to his
+finger tips unnoticed, caused him to drop it on the instant, and drawing
+another from his pocket he lit it while the flame lasted in the first one.
+
+It is said that great discoveries are almost invariably made by some
+trifling accident--a gold mine found by stumbling over a stone, a valley
+prolific of diamonds disclosed by digging for water.
+
+In this case it was true, for as Old Cy bent to light his second torch
+ere he withdrew from the inner cave, a flash of reflected light came
+from beneath this slab--only for one second, but enough to attract his
+attention.
+
+He stooped again and lifted the slab. Six large tin cans had been hidden
+by it. He grasped one and could scarce lift it. Again his fingers closed
+over it. He crawled backward to the better-lighted cave and drew the
+cover off the can with eager motion, and poured a heap of shining,
+glittering coin out upon that food-littered table.
+
+Into that dark hole he dived again, as a starved dog leaps for food,
+seized the cans, two at a time, almost tumbled back, and emptied them.
+Four had been filled with gold coin and two stuffed with paper money.
+
+Folded with these bills of all denominations from one to fifty dollars
+was a legal paper yellowed by age, with a red seal still glowing like a
+spot of blood.
+
+It was an innholder's license, authorizing one Thomas McGuire to furnish
+food, shelter, and entertainment for man and beast.
+
+With eyes almost tear-dimmed and heart throbbing at having found poor
+Chip's splendid heritage, Old Cy now gazed at it.
+
+The sharp stones upon which he knelt nearly pierced his flesh, but he
+felt them not.
+
+The glint of sunlight from the crack above caressed his scant gray hairs
+and white fringing beard, forming almost a halo, yet he knew it not.
+
+He only knew that here, before him, on this rude stone table, lay
+thousands of dollars, all belonging to the child he loved.
+
+"Thank God, little gal," he said at last, "I've found what belongs
+to ye, 'n' ye hain't got to want for nothin' no more. I wish I could
+kiss ye now."
+
+Little did he realize that at this very moment of thankfulness for her
+sake, poor Chip was lost to all who knew her, and, half starved and
+almost hopeless, knew not where to find shelter.
+
+[Illustration: "Thank God, little gal, I've found what belongs to ye."]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+  "When life looks darkest to ye, count yer blessin's, boy,
+  count yer blessin's."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+When the sun rose again and Chip awoke, she scarce knew where she was.
+Outside, and almost reaching the one window of her little room, was the
+top of an apple tree in full bloom. Below she could hear ducks quacking,
+now and then a barnyard monarch's defiant crow, from farther away came
+the rippling sound of running water, and as she lay and listened to the
+medley, a robin lit on the tree-top not ten feet away and chirped as he
+peered into her window. A scent of lavender mingled with apple blossoms
+became noticeable; then the few and very old-fashioned fittings of the
+room,--a chest of drawers with little brass handles, over it a narrow
+mirror with gilt frame, two wood-seated chairs painted blue, and white
+muslin curtains draped away from the window.
+
+And now, conscious that she was in some strange place, back in an
+instant came the three days of her long, weary tramp, the nights when she
+had slept in a sheep barn and in a deserted dwelling, and at last,
+faint, footsore, and almost hopeless, she had been rescued from another
+night with only the sky for a roof.
+
+Then the quaint old man, so much like Old Cy, whom she had accosted, the
+rattling, bumping ride down into this valley, and the halt where a cheery
+light beamed its welcome and a motherly woman made it real.
+
+It was all so unexpected, so satisfying, so protective of herself, that
+Chip could hardly realize how it had come about.
+
+No questions had been asked of her here. These two quaint old people had
+taken her as she was--dusty, dirty, and travel-worn. She had bathed and
+been helped to an ample meal and shown to this sweet-smelling room as if
+she had been their own daughter.
+
+"They must be awful kind sort o' people," Chip thought, and then
+creeping out of bed she dressed, and taking her stockings and sadly
+worn shoes in hand softly descended the stairs.
+
+No one seemed astir anywhere. The ticking of a tall clock in the sitting
+room was the only sound, the back door was wide open, and out of this
+Chip passed and, seating herself on a bench, began putting on stockings
+and shoes. This was scarce done ere she heard a step and saw the old man
+emerge from the same door.
+
+"Wal, Pattycake, how air ye?" he asked, smiling. "I heerd ye creepin'
+downstairs like a mouse, but I was up, 'n' 'bout dressed. Hope ye
+slept well. It's Sunday," he added, without waiting for a reply,
+"an' we don't git up quite so arly ez usual. Ye can help Mandy 'bout
+breakfast now, if ye like, 'n' I'll do the milkin'."
+
+And this marked the entry of Chip into the new home, and outlined her
+duties. No more questions were asked of her. She was taken at her own
+valuation--a needy girl, willing to work for her board, insisting on it,
+and yet, in a few days, so hospitable were these people and so winsome
+was Chip, that she stepped into their affection, as it were, almost
+without effort.
+
+"I don't think we best quiz her much," Uncle Jud (as he was known)
+said to his wife that first night. "I found her on the top o' Bangall
+Hill, where she riz up like a ghost. She 'lowed she run away from
+somewhar, but where 'twas, she didn't want to tell. My 'pinion is
+thar's a love 'fair at the bottom on't all; but whether it's so or
+not, it ain't none o' our business. She needs a home, sartin sure.
+She says she means to airn her keep, which is the right sperit, an'
+long as she minds us, she kin have it."
+
+That Chip "airned her keep" and something more was soon evinced, for
+in two weeks it was "Aunt Mandy" and "Uncle Jud" from her, and
+"Patty" or "Pattycake," the nickname given her that first morning,
+from them. More than that, so rapidly had she won her way here that
+by now Uncle Jud had visited the Riggsville store, some four miles
+down this valley, and materials for two dresses, new shoes, a broad sun
+hat, and other much-needed clothing were bought for Chip.
+
+Neither was it all one-sided, for these people, well-to-do in their
+isolated home, were also quite alone. Their two boys had grown up, gone
+away and married, and had homes of their own, and the company of a
+bright and winsome girl like Chip was needed in this home.
+
+Her adoption and acceptance of it were like a small stream flowing into
+a larger one, for the reason that these people were almost primitive in
+location and custom.
+
+"We don't go to meetin' Sundays," Uncle Jud had explained that
+first day after breakfast. "We're sorter heathen, I s'pose; but then
+ag'in, thar ain't no chance. Thar used to be meetin's down to the
+Corners, 'n' a parson; but he only got four hundred a year, an'
+hard work to collect that, 'n' so he gin the job up. Since then the
+meetin'-house has kinder gone to pieces, 'n' the Corner folks use
+it now for storin' tools. We obsarve Sundays here by bein' sorter
+lazy, 'n' I go fishin' some or pickin' berries."
+
+To Chip, reared at Tim's Place, and whose knowledge of Sunday was its
+strict observance at Greenvale, this seemed a relief. Sundays there had
+never been pleasant days to her. She could not understand what the
+preaching and praying meant, or why people needed to look so solemn
+on that day. She had been stared at so much at church, also, that the
+ordeal had become painful. The parson had, on two occasions, glared and
+glowered at her while he assured her that her opinions and belief in
+spites were rank heresy and that she was a wicked heathen; and, all
+in all, religion was not to her taste. With these people she was to
+escape it, and instead of being imprisoned for long, weary hours while
+being stared at each Sunday, she was likely to have perfect freedom and
+a chance to go with this nice old man on a fishing or berry-picking jaunt.
+
+And then Uncle Jud was so much like Old Cy in ways and speech that her
+heart was won. And besides these blessings, the old farm-house, hidden
+away between two ranges of wooded hills, seemed so out of the world and
+so secure from observation that she felt that no one from Greenvale ever
+could or would discover her. She had meant to hide herself from all who
+knew her, had changed her name for that purpose, and here and now it
+was accomplished.
+
+That first Sunday, also, became a halcyon one for her, for after chores,
+in the performance of which Chip made herself useful, Uncle Jud took his
+fish-pole, and giving her the basket to carry, led the way to the brook,
+and for four bright sunny hours, Chip knew not the lapse of time while
+she watched the leaping, laughing stream, and her second Old Cy pulling
+trout from each pool and cascade.
+
+And so her new life began.
+
+But the change was not made without some cost to her feelings, for
+heartstrings reach far, and Miss Phinney and her months of patient
+teaching were not forgotten.
+
+Aunt Comfort and her benign face oft returned to Chip, "and dear Old
+Cy," as she always thought of him, still oftener. Ray's face also
+lingered in her heart. Now and then she caught herself humming some
+darky song, and never once did the moon smile into this quiet vale that
+her thoughts did not speed away to that wildwood lake, with its rippled
+path of silver, the dark bordering forest, and how she wielded a paddle
+while her young lover picked his banjo.
+
+No word or hint of all this bygone life and romance ever fell from her
+lips. It was a page in her memory that must never be turned,--an idyl
+to be forgotten,--and yet forget it she could not, in spite of will or
+wishes.
+
+And now as the summer days sped by, and Chip helping Uncle Jud in the
+meadows or Aunt Mandy about the house, and winning love from both, saw a
+new realm open before her. There was in the sitting room of this quaint
+home a tall bookcase, its shelves filled with a motley collection of
+books: works on science, astronomy, geology, botany, and the like; books
+of travel and adventure; stories of strange countries and people never
+heard of by Chip; and novels by Scott, Lever, Cooper, and Hardy. These
+last, especially Scott and Cooper, appealed most to Chip, and once she
+began them, every spare hour, and often until long past midnight, she
+became lost in this new world.
+
+"I know all about how folks live in the woods," she said one Sunday
+to Uncle Jud, when half through "The Deerslayer." "I was brought up
+there. I know how Injuns live and what they believe. I had an old Injun
+friend once. I've got the moccasins and fur cape he gave me now. His
+name was Tomah, 'n' he believed in queer things that sometimes creep
+an' sometimes run faster'n we can."
+
+It was her first reference to her old life, but once begun, she never
+paused until all her queer history had been related.
+
+"I didn't mean to tell it," she explained in conclusion, "for I
+don't want nobody to know where I came from, an' I hope you won't
+tell."
+
+How near she came to disclosing what was of far more importance to
+herself and these people than old Tomah's superstition she never knew,
+or that all that saved her was her reference to Old Cy by that name only.
+
+More than that, and like Old Cy standing over the cave where her heritage
+lay hid, she had no suspicion that this kindly old man, so much like him
+in looks and speech, was his brother.
+
+With the coming of September, however, a visitor was announced. "Aunt
+Abby's comin' to stay with us a spell," Uncle Jud said that day;
+"she's Mandy's sister, Abigail Bemis, an' she lives at Christmas
+Cove. It's a shore town, 'bout a hundred miles from here. She ain't
+much like Mandy," he added confidentially to Chip; "she's more
+book-larned, so you'll have to mind your _p_'s and _q_'s. If ye like,
+ye can go with me to the station to meet her."
+
+And so it came to pass that a few days later, Chip, dressed in her best,
+rode to the station with Uncle Jud in the old carryall, and there met
+this visitor.
+
+She was not a welcome guest, so far as Chip was concerned, wonted as she
+had now become to Uncle Jud and Aunt Mandy, whose speech, like her own,
+was not "book-larned," and for this reason, Chip felt afraid of her. So
+much so, in fact, that for a few days she scarce dared speak at all.
+
+Her timidity wore away in due time, for Aunt Abby--a counterpart of her
+sister--was in no wise awe-inspiring. She saw Chip as she was, and soon
+felt an interest in her and her peculiar history, or what was known of
+it. She also noted Chip's interest in books, and guessing more than she
+had been told, was not long in forming correct conclusions.
+
+"What do you intend to do with this runaway girl?" she said one day to
+her sister, "keep her here and let her grow up in ignorance, or what?"
+
+"Wal, we ain't thought much about that," responded Mandy, "at least
+not yet. She ain't got no relations to look arter her, so far ez we kin
+larn. She's company for us, 'n' willin'. Uncle Jud sets lots of store
+by her. She is with him from morn till night, and handy at all sorts o'
+work. This is how 'tis with us here, an' now what do you say?"
+
+For a moment Aunt Abby meditated. "You ought to do your duty by her,"
+she said at last, "and she certainly needs more schooling."
+
+"We can send her down to the Corners when school begins, if you think
+we orter," returned her sister, timidly; "but we hate to lose her now.
+We've kinder took to her, you see."
+
+"I hardly think that will do," answered Aunt Abby, knowing as she
+did that the three _R_'s comprised the full extent of an education at
+the Corners. "What she needs is a chance to mingle with more people
+than she can here, and learn the ways of the world, as well as books.
+Her mind is bright. I notice she is reading every chance she can get,
+and you know my ideas about education. For her to stay here, even with
+schooling at the Corners, is to let her grow up like a hoyden. Now what
+would you think if I took her back to Christmas Cove? There is a better
+school there. She will meet and mingle with more people, and improve
+faster."
+
+"I dunno what Judson'll say," returned Aunt Mandy, somewhat sadly.
+"He's got so wonted to her, he'll be heart-broke, I'm afraid." And
+so the consultation closed.
+
+The matter did not end here, for Aunt Abby, "sot in her way," as
+Uncle Jud had often said, yet in reality only advocating what she felt
+was best for this homeless waif, now began a persuasive campaign. She
+enlarged on Christmas Cove, its excellent school and capable master, its
+social advantages and cultured people, who boasted a public library and
+debating society, and especially its summer attractions, when a few
+dozen city people sojourned there. Its opportunities for church-going
+also came in for praise, though if this worthy woman had known how
+Chip felt about that feature, it would have been left unmentioned.
+
+"The girl needs religious influence and contact with believers, as
+well as schooling," she said later on to Aunt Mandy, "and that must
+be considered. Here she can have none, and will grow up a heathen. I
+certainly think she ought to go back with me for a year or two, at least,
+and then we can decide what is best."
+
+"Thar's one thing ye ain't thought 'bout," Mandy answered, "an'
+that's her sense o' obligation. From what she's told me, 'twas that
+that made her run away from whar she was, 'n' she'd run away from
+here if she didn't feel she was earnin' her keep. She's peculiar in
+that way, 'n' can't stand feelin' she's dependent. How you goin'
+to get round that?"
+
+"Just as you do," returned Aunt Abby, not at all discouraged. "We live
+about as you do, as you know, only Mr. Bemis has the mill; and she can
+help me about the house, as she does here."
+
+But Chip's own consent to this new plan was the hardest to obtain.
+
+"I'll do just as Uncle Jud wants me to," she responded, when Aunt
+Abby proposed the change; "but I'd hate to go 'way from here. It's
+all the real sort o' home I've ever known, and they've been so good
+to me I'll have to cry when I leave it. You'd let me come here once
+in a while, wouldn't ye?"
+
+As she seemed ready to cry at this moment, Aunt Abby wisely dropped
+the subject then and there; in fact, she did not allude to it again
+in Chip's presence.
+
+But Aunt Abby carried her point with the others. Uncle Jud consented
+very reluctantly, Aunt Mandy also yielded after much more persuasion,
+and when Aunt Abby's visit terminated, poor Chip's few belongings were
+packed in a new telescope case; she kissed Aunt Mandy, unable to speak,
+and this tearful parting was repeated at the station with Uncle Jud. When
+the train had vanished he wiped his eyes on his coat sleeves, climbed
+into his old carryall, and drove away disconsolate.
+
+"Curis, curis, how a gal like that 'un'll work her way into a man's
+feelin's," he said to himself. "It ain't been three months since I
+picked her up, 'n' now her goin' away seems like pullin' my heart
+out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+Christmas Cove had entered its autumn lethargy when Aunt Abby Bemis and
+her new protegee reached it. Captain Bemis, who "never had no say 'bout
+nothin'," but who had cooked his own meals uncomplainingly for three
+weeks, emerged, white-dusted, from the mill, to greet the arrivals,
+and Chip was soon installed in a somewhat bare room overlooking the
+cove. Everything seemed slightly chilly to her here. This room, with
+its four-poster bed, blue-painted chairs, light blue shades, and dark
+blue straw matting, the leafless elms in front, the breeze that swept in
+from the sea, and even her reception, seemed cool. Her heart was not in
+it. Try as she would, she could not yet feel one spark of affection
+for this "book-larned" Aunt Abby, who had already begun to reprove her
+for lapses of speech. It was all so different from the home life she
+had just left; and as Chip had now begun to notice and feel trifles,
+the relations of the people seemed as chilly as the room to which she
+was consigned.
+
+When Sunday came--a sunless one with leaden sky and cold wind bearing the
+ocean's moaning--Chip felt herself back at Greenvale with its Sundays,
+for now she was stared at the moment she entered the church. The singing
+was, of course, of the same solemn character, the minister's prayers
+even longer, and the preaching as incomprehensible as in Greenvale.
+
+To Chip, doubtless a heretic who needed regeneration, it seemed a
+melancholy and solemn performance. The sermon (on predestination, with a
+finale which was a description of the resurrection day) made her feel
+creepy, and when the white-robed procession rising from countless
+graves was touched upon, and a pause came when she could hear the
+ocean's distant moan once more, it seemed that spites were creeping
+and crawling all about that dim room.
+
+With her advent at school Monday came something of the same trouble first
+met at Greenvale, for the master, a weazen, dried-up little old man, who
+wore a wig and seemed to exude rules and discipline, lacked the kindly
+interest of Miss Phinney.
+
+Chip, almost a mature young lady, was aligned with girls and boys of
+ten and twelve, and once more the same shame and humiliation had to
+be endured. It wore away in time, however, for she had made almost
+marvellous progress under Miss Phinney. Her mind was keen and quick, and
+once at study again, she astonished Mr. Bell, the master.
+
+Something of her old fearless self-reliance now came to her aid, also.
+It had made her dare sixty miles of wilderness alone and helpless, it
+had spurred her to escape Greenvale and her sense of being a dependent
+pauper, and now that latent force for good or ill still nerved her.
+
+But Christmas Cove did not suit her. The sea that drew her eyes with
+its vastness seemed to awe her. The great house, brown and moss-coated,
+where she lived, was barnlike, and never quite warm enough. The long
+street she traversed four times daily was bleak and wind-swept. Aunt
+Abby was austere and lacking in cordiality; and Sundays--well, Sundays
+were Chip's one chief abhorrence.
+
+She may be blamed for it,--doubtless will be,--and yet she never had
+been, and it seemed never would be, quite reconciled to Sundays. At
+Tim's Place they were unknown. At Greenvale they had been dreaded,
+and now at Christmas Cove they were no less so.
+
+At Uncle Jud's, in Peaceful Valley, where she had found an asylum,
+loving care, and companionship akin to her, Sundays were only
+half-Sundays--days of chore-doing, of reading, of rest, or long
+strolls along shady lanes with Uncle Jud, or following the brook and
+watching him fish. It was not right, maybe. It was somewhat of
+sacrilege, perhaps, this lazy, summer-day-strolling, flower-picking,
+berry-gathering way of passing them, and yet, as the months with Martin
+and his party in the wilderness where Sunday could not be observed, and
+those with Uncle Jud were all that Chip had really enjoyed, she must
+not be blamed.
+
+Another influence--an insidious heart-hunger she could not put away--now
+added to her loneliness in the new life. It carried her thoughts back
+to the rippled, moonlit lake, where Ray had picked his banjo and sung to
+her; even back to that first night by the camp-fire when she had watched
+and listened to him in rapt admiration. It thrilled her as naught else
+could when she recalled the few moments at the lake when, unconscious
+of the need of restraint, she had let him caress her.
+
+Then the long days of watching for his return were lived over, and the
+one almost ecstatic moment when he had leaped from the stage and over
+the wall, with no one in sight, while he held her in his arms.
+
+And then--and this hurt the most--that last evening before they were to
+part again, when beside the firefly-lit mill-pond he had the chance to
+say so much, and said--nothing!
+
+It was all a bitter-sweet memory, which she tried to put away forever the
+night she left Greenvale. She was now Vera Raymond. No one could trace
+her; and yet, so at odds were her will and heart, there still lingered
+the faint hope that Ray would sometime and somehow find her out.
+
+And so, studying faithfully, often lonesome, now and then longing for
+the bygone days with Ray and Old Cy, and always hoping that she might
+sometime return to Peaceful Valley, Chip passed the winter at Christmas
+Cove.
+
+Something of success came to her through it all. She reached and retained
+head positions in her classes. A word of praise came occasionally from
+Mr. Bell. Aunt Abby grew less austere and seemed to have a little pride
+in her. She became acquainted with other people and in touch with young
+folks, was invited to parties and sleigh-rides. The vernacular of
+Tim's Place left her, and even Sundays were less a torture, in fact,
+almost pleasant, for then she saw most of the young folks she mingled
+with, and now and then exchanged a bit of gossip.
+
+Her own dress became of more interest to her. Aunt Abby, fortunately
+for Chip, felt desirous that her ward should appear well, and Chip, thus
+educated and polished in village life, to a degree, at least, fulfilled
+Aunt Abby's hopes.
+
+Another success also came to her, for handsome as she undeniably was,
+with her big, appealing eyes, her splendid black hair, and well-rounded
+form, the young men began to seek her. One became persistent, and when
+spring had unlocked the long, curved bay once more, Chip had become
+almost a leader in the little circle of young people.
+
+Her life with those who had taken her in charge also became more
+harmonious. In fact, something of affection began to leaven it, for the
+reason that never once had Aunt Abby questioned Chip as to her past.
+Aunt Mandy and Uncle Jud had both cautioned her as to its unwisdom, and
+she was broad and charitable enough to let it remain a closed book until
+such time as Chip was willing to open it; and for this, more than
+all else that she received, Chip felt grateful. But one day it came
+out--or at least a portion of it.
+
+"I suppose you have often wondered where I was born, and who my parents
+were," Chip said, one Sunday afternoon, when she and Aunt Abby were
+alone, "and I want to thank you for never, never asking." And then,
+omitting much, she briefly outlined her history.
+
+"I was born close to the wilderness," she said, "and my mother died
+when I was about eight years old. Then my father took me into the
+woods, where I worked at a kind of a boarding house for lumbermen. I
+ran away from that when I was about sixteen. I had to; the reasons I
+don't want to tell. I found some people camping in the woods when I'd
+been gone three days and 'most starved. They felt pity for me, I
+guess, and took care of me. I stayed at their camp that summer, and then
+they fetched me home with them and I was sent to school. Somebody said
+something to me there, somebody who hated me. She had been pestering
+me all the time, and I ran away. Uncle Jud found me and took care of
+me until you came, and that's all I want to tell. I could tell a lot
+more, but I don't ever want these people to find me or take me back
+where they live, and that's why I don't tell where I came from. Then I
+felt I was so dependent on them--I was twitted of it--that it's another
+reason why I ran away. I wouldn't have stayed with Uncle Jud more than
+over night except I had a chance to work and earn my board."
+
+"But wasn't it unkind of you--isn't it now--not to let these people
+know you are alive?" answered Aunt Abby. "They were certainly good to
+you."
+
+"I know that they were," returned Chip, somewhat contritely; "but I
+couldn't stand being dependent on them any longer. If they found where I
+was, they'd come and fetch me back; and I'd feel so ashamed I couldn't
+look 'em in the face. I'd rather they'd think I was dead."
+
+"Well, perhaps it is best you do not," returned Aunt Abby, sighing;
+"but years of doubt, and not knowing whether some one we care for is
+dead or alive, are hard to bear. And now that you have told me some of
+your history, I will tell you a lifelong case of not knowing some
+one's fate. Many years ago my sister and myself, who were born here,
+became acquainted with two young men, sailor boys from Bayport, named
+Cyrus and Judson Walker. Cyrus became attached to me and we were engaged
+to marry. It never came to pass, however, for the ship that Judson was
+captain of, with Cyrus as first mate, foundered at sea. All hands took to
+the two boats. The one Judson was in was picked up, but the other
+was never heard of afterward. In due time Judson and my sister Amanda
+married. He gave up a sailor's life, and they settled down where they
+now live. I waited many years, vainly hoping for my sweetheart's
+return, and finally, realizing that he must be dead, married Captain
+Bemis. That all happened so long ago that I do not care to count the
+years; and yet all through them has lingered that pitiful thread of
+doubt and uncertainty, that vain hope that somehow and someway Cyrus
+may have escaped death and may return. I know it will never happen. I
+know he is dead; and yet I cannot put away that faint hope and quite
+believe it is so, and never shall so long as I live. Now you have
+left those who must have cared something for you in much the same
+pitiful state of doubt, and it is not right."
+
+For one moment something almost akin to horror flashed over Chip.
+
+"And was he called--was he never--I mean this brother, ever heard
+from?" she stammered, recovering herself in time.
+
+"Why, no," answered Aunt Abby, looking at her curiously, "of course
+not. Why, what ails you? You look as if you'd seen a ghost."
+
+"Oh, nothing," returned Chip, now more composed; "only the story and
+how strange it was."
+
+It ended the conversation, for Chip, so overwhelmed by the flood of
+possibilities contained in this story, dared not trust herself longer
+with Aunt Abby, and soon escaped to her room.
+
+And now circumstances came trooping upon her: the shipwreck, which
+she had heard Old Cy describe so often; the name she knew was really
+his; the almost startling resemblance to Uncle Jud in speech, ways, and
+opinions; and countless other proofs. Surely it must be so. Surely Old
+Cy, of charming memory, and Uncle Jud no less so, must be brothers,
+and now it was in her power to--and then she paused, shocked at the
+position she faced.
+
+She was now known as Vera Raymond, and respected; she had cut loose
+forever from the old shame of an outlaw's child; of a wretched drudge
+at Tim's Place; of being sold as a slave; and all that now made her
+blush.
+
+And then Ray!
+
+Full well she knew now what must have been in his heart that last evening
+and why he acted as he did. Hannah had told her the bitter truth, as
+she had since realized. Ray had been assured that she was an outcast, and
+despicable in the sight of Greenvale. He dared not say "I love you;
+be my wife." Instead, he had been hurried away to keep them apart;
+and as all this dire flood of shame that had driven her from Greenvale
+surged in her heart, the bitter tears came.
+
+In calmer moments, and when the heart-hunger controlled, she had hoped
+he might some day find her and some day say, "I love you." But now, so
+soon, to make herself known, to tell who she was, to admit to these new
+friends that she was Chip McGuire with all that went with it, to have to
+face and live down that shame, to admit that she had taken Ray's first
+name for her own--no, no, a thousand times no!
+
+But what of Old Cy and Uncle Jud, and their lifelong separation?
+
+Truly her footsteps had led her to a parting of the ways, one sign-board
+lettered "Duty and Shame," the other a blank.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+  "Good luck comes now 'n' then; bad luck drops 'round
+  frequently."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+When Old Cy emerged from the cave, his face glorified and heart
+throbbing with the blessings now his to give Chip, he looked about with
+almost fear. The two abandoned canoes and the trusty rifle had seemed
+an assurance of tragic import, and yet no proof of this outlaw's
+death. That this cave had been his lair, could not be doubted; and so
+momentous was this discovery, and so anxious was Old Cy to rescue this
+fortune, that he trembled with a sudden dread.
+
+But no sign of human presence met his sweeping look.
+
+The lake still rippled and smiled in the sunlight. Two deer, a buck and
+doe, were feeding on the rush-grown shore just across, while at his feet
+that rusty rifle still uttered its fatal message.
+
+Once more Old Cy glanced all about, and then entered the cave again.
+Here, in the dim light and with trembling hands, he filled the cans once
+more, and almost staggering, so faint was he from excitement, he hurried
+to the canoe, and packing them in its bow, covered the precious cargo
+with his blanket.
+
+Then he ran like a deer back to the cave, closed it with the slab,
+grasped his rifle, and not even looking at the rusty one, bounded down
+the path to his canoe again, launched it, and pushed off.
+
+Never before had it seemed so frail a craft. And now, as he swung its
+prow around toward the outlet, a curious object met his eyes.
+
+Far up the lake, and where no ripple concealed it, lay what looked like a
+floating log, clasped by a human arm.
+
+What intuition led him hither, Old Cy never could explain, for escape
+from the lake was now his sole thought. And yet, with one sweep of his
+paddle, he turned his canoe and sped across the lake. And now, as he
+neared this object, it slowly outlined itself, and he saw a grewsome
+sight,--two bloated corpses grasping one another as if in a death
+grapple. One had hair of bronze red, the other a hideously scarred face
+with lips drawn and teeth exposed.
+
+Hate, Horror, and Death personified.
+
+Only for a moment did Old Cy glance at this ghastly sight, and then he
+turned again and sped back across the lake.
+
+The bright sun still smiled calm and serene, the morning breeze still
+kissed the blue water, the two deer still watched him with curious eyes;
+but he saw them not--only the winsome face and appealing eyes of Chip as
+he last beheld them.
+
+And now in the prow of his canoe lay her fortune, her heritage, which
+was, after all, but scant return for all the shame and stigma so far
+meted out to her.
+
+It was almost sunset ere Old Cy, his nerves still quivering and wearied
+as never before, crossed the little lake and breathed a sigh of
+heart-felt gratitude as he drew his canoe out on the sandy shore
+near the ice-house. No one was in sight, nor likely to be. A thin
+column of smoke rising from the cabin showed that the hermit was still on
+earth, and now for the first time, Old Cy sat down and considered his
+plans for the near future.
+
+First and foremost, not a soul, not even his old trusted companion here,
+not even Martin, or Angie, and certainly not Ray, must learn what had
+now come into his possession. Neither must his journey to this far-off
+lake or aught he had learned there be disclosed.
+
+But how was he to escape from the woods and these people, soon to arrive
+for their summer sojourn? And what if Chip herself should come? Two
+conclusions forced themselves upon him now: first, he must so conceal
+the fortune that none of these friends even could suspect its presence;
+next, he must by some pretext leave here as soon as Martin and his
+party arrived, and cease not his watchful care until Chip's heritage
+was safe in some bank in her name.
+
+And now, with so much of his future moves decided upon, he hurried to the
+cabin, greeted Amzi, urged him to hasten supper, and, securing a shovel,
+returned to his canoe.
+
+In five minutes the cans of gold were buried deep in the sand, not two
+feet from where the half-breed had once landed, and upon Old Cy's person
+the bills found concealment. How much it all amounted to, he had not
+even guessed, nor scarce thought. To secure it and bear it safely away
+from this now almost accursed lake had been his sole thought, and must be
+until locks and bolts could guard it better. That night Old Cy hardly
+slept a moment.
+
+And now began days of waiting and watching, the slow course of which
+he had never before known. He dared not leave the cabin except to fish
+close by and within sight of the one focal point of his interest. Each
+midday, for not sooner would the expected ones be apt to arrive, he
+began to watch the lake's outlet, and ceased not this vigil until
+darkness came. A dozen times a day he covertly visited the ice-house to
+be certain no alien footprints had been stamped upon the sand near his
+buried treasure, and had the hermit been an alert and normal man, he must
+have noticed Old Cy's strange conduct.
+
+This burden of care also began to haunt his sleep, and in it he saw the
+open cave, and himself watched by vicious, leering faces. Once he saw
+those ghastly corpses still clasped together, but hovering over him, and
+then awoke with a sense of horror.
+
+A worse dream than this came later, for in it he saw the half-breed
+creeping along the lake's shore, and then, stooping where the gold was
+buried, he began to dig, at which Old Cy sprang from his bed in sudden
+terror.
+
+"I'll go crazy if I don't git rid o' that money 'fore long," he
+said to himself; and the next day another place of concealment occurred
+to him.
+
+There was, beneath the new cabin, a small cellar entered through a
+trap-door. It was some ten feet square, and had been used to store
+potatoes, pork, and the like. To carry out his new plan, which was to
+hide the gold in this cellar, it became necessary to keep Amzi out of
+sight until its transfer was made. That was an easy task, for Amzi,
+docile as a child, was sent out on the lake to fish, and then Old Cy,
+hastily constructing a bag of deerskin, hurried to the beach, dug up
+the treasure, poured the glittering coin into this bag, hid it in the
+cellar, nailed the trap-door down, and that night slept better.
+
+Two days after, just as the sun was nearing the mountain top, Martin,
+Angie, Levi, and Ray entered the lake.
+
+How grateful both Old Cy and Amzi were for their arrival, how eagerly
+they grasped hands with them at the landing, and how like two boys Martin
+and Ray behaved needs no description.
+
+All that had happened in Greenvale was soon told. Chip's conduct and
+progress were related by Angie. Ray's plans to remain here another
+winter were disclosed by him; and then, when the cheerful party had
+gathered about the evening fire, Martin touched upon another matter.
+
+"I met Hersey as we were coming in," he said, "and he says that
+neither McGuire nor the half-breed has been seen or heard of since early
+last fall. Hersey came in early this spring with one of his deputies;
+they visited a half-dozen lumber camps, called twice at Tim's Place, and
+even went over to Pete's cabin on the Fox Hole, but nowhere could
+they learn anything of these two men. More than that, no canoe was found
+at Pete's hut, and there was no sign of occupation at all this past
+winter. Nothing could be learned from Tim, either, although not much was
+expected from that source. It is all a most mysterious disappearance,
+and the last that we can learn of Pete was his arrival and departure
+from Tim's Place after we rescued Chip."
+
+"I think both on 'em has concluded this section was gittin' too warm
+for 'em," remarked Levi, "an' they've lit out."
+
+"It's good riddance if they have," answered Old Cy, "an' I'm sartin
+none on us'll ever set eyes on 'em agin."
+
+And Old Cy spoke the truth, for none of this party ever did. In fact,
+no human being, except himself and Martin, ever learned the secret that
+this mountain-hid lake could tell.
+
+But another matter now began to interest Old Cy--how Ray and Chip stood
+in their mutual feelings. That all was not as he wished, Old Cy soon
+guessed from Ray's face and actions, and he was not long in verifying it.
+
+"Wal, how'd ye find the gal?" he said to Ray when the chance came.
+"Was she glad to see ye?"
+
+"Why, yes," answered Ray, looking away, "she appeared to be. I wasn't
+in Greenvale but two weeks, you know."
+
+"Saw her 'most every evenin' durin' that time, I s'pose?"
+
+"No, not every one," returned Ray, vaguely; "her school hadn't closed
+when I got home, and she studied nights, you see."
+
+Old Cy watched Ray's face for a moment.
+
+"I ain't pryin' into yer love matters," he said at last, "but as
+I'm on your side, I'd sorter like to know how it's progressin'.
+Wa'n't thar nothin' said 'tween ye--no sort o' promise, 'fore ye
+come 'way?"
+
+"No, nothing of that sort," answered Ray, looking confused, "though
+we parted good friends, and she sent her love to you. I'm afraid Chip
+don't quite like Greenvale."
+
+Old Cy made no answer, though a smothered "hum, ha" escaped him at the
+disclosure of what he feared.
+
+"I wish ye'd sorter clinched matters 'fore ye left," he said, after
+a pause; "that is, if ye're callatin' to be here 'nother winter.
+It's 'most too long to keep a gal guessin'; 'sides, 'tain't right."
+
+Ray, however, made no defence, in fact, seemed guilty and confused, so
+Old Cy said no more.
+
+A few days later he made a proposal that astonished Martin.
+
+"I've been here now 'bout two years," he said, "an' I'm gittin'
+sorter oneasy. I callate ye kin spare me a couple o' weeks."
+
+No intimation of his real errand escaped him, and so adroitly had he laid
+his plans and timed his movements, that when his canoe was packed and he
+bade them good-bye, no one suspected how valuable a cargo it carried.
+
+But Old Cy was more than "sorter oneasy," for the only spot where he
+dared close his eyes in sleep during that three days' journey out of
+the wilderness was in his canoe, with his head pillowed on that precious
+gold.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+  "A miser was created to prove how little real comfort kin be
+  got out o' money."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+When Old Cy joined the little party at the lake again, he seemed to
+have aged years. His sunny smile was gone. He looked weary, worn, and
+disconsolate.
+
+"Chip's run away from Greenvale," he said simply, "an' nobody can
+find hide nor hair on her. They've follered the roads for miles in
+every direction. Nobody can be found that's seen anybody like her 'n'
+they've even dragged the mill-pond. She left a note chargin' it to
+that durn fool, Hannah, and things she said, which I guess was true.
+I'd like to duck her in the hoss-pond!"
+
+Such news was like a bombshell in the camp, or if not, what soon followed
+was, for after a few days Old Cy made another announcement which upset
+the entire party.
+
+"I think I'd best go back to Greenvale," he said, "an' begin a
+sarch for that gal. I ain't got nobody in the world that needs me so
+much, or I them. I'm a sorter outcast myself, ez you folks know. That
+little gal hez crept into my heart so, I can't take no more comfort
+here. Amzi don't need me so much as I need her, 'n' I've made up my
+mind I'll start trampin' till I find her. I've a notion, too, she'll
+head for the wilderness ag'in, 'n' I'm most sartin she'll fetch
+up whar her mother was buried. I watched that gal middlin' clus all last
+summer. She's true blue 'n' good grit. She won't do no fool thing,
+like makin' 'way with herself, 'n' I'll find her somewhar arnin'
+her own livin' if I live long 'nuff. From the note she left, I know
+that was in her mind."
+
+Martin realized that there was no use in trying to change Old Cy's
+intent--in fact, had no heart to do so, for he too felt much the same
+toward Chip.
+
+"I'll give you all the funds you need, old friend," he made answer,
+"and wish you Godspeed on your mission. I'll do more than that even.
+I'll pay some one to watch at Grindstone for the next year, so if Chip
+reaches there, we can learn it."
+
+That night he held a consultation with his wife.
+
+"I suspect we are somewhat to blame for this unfortunate happening,"
+he said to her, "or, at least, some thoughtless admissions you may have
+made led up to it. It's a matter we are responsible for, or I feel so,
+anyway. I think as Old Cy does, that this girl must be found if money
+can do it, and I propose that we break camp and return to Greenvale.
+If Amzi can't be coaxed to go along, I must leave Levi with him. No
+power on earth can keep Old Cy here any longer."
+
+But the old hermit had changed somewhat since that night he broke away
+and returned to this camp, and when the alternative of remaining here
+alone, or going out with them all, was presented, he soon yielded.
+
+"If Cyrus is goin', I'll have to," he said. "I'd be lonesome
+without him." And to this assertion he adhered.
+
+Ray, however, was the most dejected and unhappy one now here, though
+fortunately Old Cy was the only one who understood why, and he kept
+silent.
+
+Old Cy's defection had influenced all alike, and wood life was no longer
+attractive. It was a pity, in a way, for no more charming spot than this
+sequestered lake could be found. The trout leaping or breaking its glassy
+surface night and morning seemed to almost urge an angler; not an hour
+in all the day but two to a dozen deer might be seen along its shore, and
+blueberries were ripening over in the "blow down." Amzi's garden,
+now doubled in size, was well along, and it seemed a sin to leave so
+many attractions.
+
+But Martin had lost heart for these allurements. The thought of poor,
+homeless Chip begging her way somewhere, spoiled it all. Conscious that
+her own neglect might have invited this calamity, Angie was almost
+heart-broken, and it was a saddened party that closed and barred the
+new cabin and left this rippled lake one morning.
+
+They were even more sad when Aunt Comfort showed them Chip's message,
+and Angie read it with brimming eyes.
+
+And now came Old Cy's departure, on a quest as hopeless as that of the
+Wandering Jew and as pathetic as the Ancient Mariner's.
+
+But the climax was reached when Old Cy gave Martin his parting message
+and charge:--"Here's a bank book," he said, "that calls fer 'bout
+sixty thousand dollars. It's the savin's o' McGuire, 'n' belongs
+to Chip. I found the cave whar 'twas hid. I found McGuire 'n' the
+half-breed, both dead 'n' floatin' in the lake clus by, an' 'twas
+to keer fer this money I quit ye three weeks ago.
+
+"If I never come back here,--an' I never shall 'thout I find
+Chip,--keep it fer her. Sometime she may show up. If ever she does,
+tell her Old Cy did all he could fer her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+  "Those who hev nothin' but a stiddy faith the Lord'll provide,
+  never git fat."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Life at Peaceful Valley and the home of Judson Walker fell into its usual
+monotony after Chip's departure.
+
+Each day Uncle Jud went about his chores and his crop-gathering and
+watched the leaves grow scarlet, then brown, and finally go eddying up
+and down the valley, or heap themselves into every nook and cranny for
+final sleep.
+
+Existence had become something like this to him, but he could no longer
+anticipate a vernal budding forth as the leaves came, but only the sear
+and autumn for himself, with the small and sadly neglected churchyard
+at the Corners for its ending.
+
+Snow came and piled itself into fantastic drifts. The stream's summer
+chatter was hushed. The cows, chickens, and his horse, with wood-cutting,
+became his sole care. Once a week he journeyed to the Corners for his
+weekly paper and Mandy's errands, always hoping for a message from
+Chip. Now and then one came, a little missive in angular chirography,
+telling how she longed to return to them, which they read and re-read
+by candlelight.
+
+Somehow this strange wanderer, this unaccounted-for waif, had crept into
+his life and love as a flower would, and "Pattycake," as he had named
+her, with her appealing eyes and odd ways, was never out of his thoughts.
+
+And so the winter dragged its slow, chill course. Spring finally unlocked
+the brook once more, the apple and cherry blossoms came, the robins began
+nest-building, and one day Uncle Jud returned from the corner with a
+glad smile on his face.
+
+"Pattycake's school's goin' to close in a couple o' weeks more,
+'n' then she's comin' home," he announced, and Aunt Mandy, her face
+beaming, made haste to wipe her "specs" and read the joyous tidings.
+
+For a few days Uncle Jud acted as if he had forgotten something and knew
+not where to look for it. He lingered about the house when he would
+naturally be at work. He peered into one room and then another, in an
+abstracted way, and finally Aunt Mandy caught him in the keeping room,
+with one curtain raised,--a thing unheard of,--seated in one of the
+haircloth chairs and looking around.
+
+"Mandy," he said, as she entered, "do you know, I think them picturs
+we've had hangin' here nigh on to forty year is homely 'nuff to stop
+a horse, 'n' they make me feel like I'd been to a funeral. Thar's
+that 'Death Bed o' Dan'l Webster,' an' 'Death o' Montcalm,'
+'specially. I jest can't stand 'em no longer, an' 'The Father
+o' his Country.' I'm gittin' tired o' that, 'n' the smirk he's
+got on his face. I feel jest as though I'd like to throw a stun at
+him this minute. You may feel sot on them picturs, but I'd like to
+chuck the hull kit 'n' boodle into the cow shed. An' them winder
+curtains," he continued, looking around, "things so blue they make me
+shiver, an' this carpet with the figgers o' green and yaller birds,
+it sorter stuns me.
+
+"Now Pattycake's comin' purty soon. She must 'a' seen more cheerful
+keepin' rooms'n ourn, 'n' I'm callatin' we'd best rip this
+'un all up an' fix it new. Then thar's the front chamber--in fact,
+both on 'em--with the yaller spindle beds 'n' blue curtains, an'
+only a square of rag carpet front o' the dressers. Say, Mandy," he
+continued, looking around once more, "how'd we ever happen to git so
+many blue curtains?"
+
+His discontent with their home now took shape in vigorous action, and
+Aunt Mandy came to share it. Trip after trip to the Riggsville store was
+made. Two new chamber sets and rolls of carpeting arrived at the station
+six miles away, and came up the valley. A paper-hanger was engaged and
+kept busy for ten days. The death-bed pictures were literally kicked into
+the cow shed, and in three weeks four rooms had been so reconstructed
+and fitted anew that no one would recognize them.
+
+Meanwhile Uncle Jud had utterly neglected his "craps," while he worked
+around the house. The wide lawn had been clipped close. A new picket
+fence, painted white, replaced the leaning, zigzag one around the garden.
+Weeds and brush disappeared, and only Aunt Mandy's protest saved the
+picturesque brown house from a coat of paint.
+
+And then "Pattycake" arrived.
+
+Nearly a year before she had been brought here, a weary, bedraggled,
+dusty, half-starved waif. Now Uncle Jud met her at the station, his face
+shining; Aunt Mandy clasped her close to her portly person; and as Chip
+looked around and saw what had been done in her honor and to make her
+welcome, her eyes filled.
+
+"I never thought anybody would care for me like this," she exclaimed,
+and then glancing at Uncle Jud, her eyes alight, she threw her arms about
+his neck and, for the first time, kissed him.
+
+And never in all his life had he felt more amply paid for anything he
+had done.
+
+Then and there, Chip resolved to do something that now lay in her
+power--to face shame and humbled pride and all the sacrifice it meant to
+her in the end, and reunite these two long-separated brothers. But not
+now, no, not yet.
+
+Before her lay two golden joyous summer months. Aunt Abby was coming up
+later. She could not face her own humiliation now. She must wait until
+these happy days were past, then tell her wretched story, not sparing
+herself one iota, and then, if she must, go her way, an outcast into the
+world once more.
+
+How utterly wrong she was in this conclusion, and how little she
+understood the broad charity of Uncle Jud, need not be explained. She
+was only a child as yet in all but stature. The one most bitter sneer of
+malicious Hannah still rankled and poisoned her common sense. Its effect
+upon Chip had been as usual on her nature and belief, and this waif
+of the wilderness, this gnome child, must not be judged by ordinary
+standards. Like reflections from grotesque mirrors, so had her ideas of
+right and duty been distorted by eerie influences and weird surroundings.
+There was first the unspeakable brutality of her father; then the
+menial years at Tim's Place, with no more consideration than a horse
+or pig received, her only education being the uncanny teachings of Old
+Tomah. Under this baleful tuition, coupled with the ever present menace
+and mystery of a vast wilderness, she passed from childhood into
+womanhood, with the fixed belief that human kind were no better than
+brutes; that the forest was peopled by a nether world of spites, the
+shadowy forms of both man and beast; and worse than this, that all
+thought and action here must be the selfish ones of personal gain and
+personal protection. Like a dog forever expecting a blow, like any
+dumb brute ever on guard against superior force, so had Chip grown to
+maturity, a cringing, helpless, almost hopeless creature, and yet one
+whose inborn impulses and desires revolted at her surroundings.
+
+Once removed from these, however, and in a purer atmosphere, she was
+like one born again. Her past impressions still remained, her queer
+belief of present and future conditions was still a motive force, and
+the cringing, blow-expecting nature was yet hers.
+
+For this reason, and because this new world and these new people were
+so unaccountable and quite beyond her ken in tender influence and
+loving care, what they had done and for what purpose seemed all the
+more impressive. But it was in no wise wasted; instead, it was like
+God-given sunshine to a flower that has never known aught except the
+chilling shadow of a dense forest.
+
+And now ensued an almost pathetic play of interest, for Chip set herself
+about the duty of giving instead of obtaining pleasure.
+
+She became what she was at Tim's Place,--a menial, so far as they would
+let her,--and from early morning until bedtime, some step, some duty,
+some kindly care for her benefactors, was assumed by her. She worked and
+weeded in the garden, she drove and milked the cows, she followed Uncle
+Jud to the hay-field, insisting that she must help, until at last he
+protested.
+
+"I like ye 'round me all the time, girlie," he assured her, "for
+ye're the best o' company, 'n' I'd rather see yer face'n' any
+posy that ever grew. But you've got to quit workin' so much in the sun.
+'Twill get yer hands all calloused 'n' face freckled, an' I won't
+have it. I want ye to injie yourself, read books, pick flowers, 'n'
+sit in the shade. I see ye've got into the habit o' workin', which
+ain't a bad 'un, but thar ain't no need on't here."
+
+One day a stranger happened up this valley, so seldom travelled that
+its roadway ruts were obscured by grass. Chip noticed him that morning
+where the brook curved almost to the garden, a fair-haired young man
+with jaunty straw hat, delicate, shining rod, and new fish basket. He
+was garbed in a spick-span brown linen suit. He saw her also, looking
+over the garden wall, and raising his hat gracefully, strode on.
+
+His appearance, so neat and dainty and so like pictures of fishermen in
+books, his courteous manner of touching his hat, without a rude stare
+or even a second glance at her, caught her attention, and she watched him
+a few moments.
+
+He did not look back until he had cast his line into a few eddies some
+twenty rods away; and then he turned, looked at her, the house, barns,
+garden, all as one picture, and then continued up the brook.
+
+He was not seen again until almost twilight by her, and then he and Uncle
+Jud entered the sitting room.
+
+"This is Mr. Goodnow, Mandy," Uncle Jud explained, nodding to the
+newcomer and glancing at Aunt Mandy and Chip. "He says he follered the
+brook further up'n he figgered on. It's four miles to the Corners,
+'n' he wants us to keep him over night. I 'lowed we could, if you was
+willin'."
+
+"I shall be most grateful if you kind ladies will permit my intrusion,"
+the stranger added. "I have been so captivated by this delightful brook
+that I quite forgot where I was or the distance to the village until I
+saw that the sun was setting. If you can take care of me until morning,
+any payment you will accept shall be yours."
+
+"I guess we can 'commodate ye," responded Aunt Mandy, pleasantly. And
+so this modern Don Juan found lodgement in the home of these people.
+
+"I am an enthusiast on trout-catching," he explained, after all had
+gathered on the vine-enclosed porch and he had presented Uncle Jud with
+an excellent cigar. "About all I do summers is to hunt for brooks. I
+came to the village below here yesterday, having heard of this stream,
+and never before have I found one quite so attractive."
+
+Then followed a more or less fictitious account of his own station
+and occupation in life, all very plausible, entirely frank, and quite
+convincing.
+
+"I am unfortunate in one respect," he said, "in that I have no fixed
+occupation. My father, now dead, was a prominent physician. I was
+educated for the same profession and had just begun its practice when he
+died. An uncle also left me a large bequest at about the same time. My
+mother insisted that I give up practice, and now I am an enforced idler."
+
+He was such an entirely new specimen of manhood, so charming of manner,
+so smooth of speech, that Chip watched and listened while he talked
+on and on, quite enthralled. She had seen similar gentlemen pass and
+repass Tim's Place, not quite so dainty and suave, perhaps, but dressed
+much the same. She had now and then noticed a pictured reproduction of
+one in some magazine. Insensibly, she compared this Mr. Goodnow with
+Ray, to the latter's discredit, and when the evening was ended and
+she was alone in her room, this new arrival's delicately chiselled
+face, smiling blue eyes, slightly curled mustache, and refined manners
+followed her.
+
+"He's a purty slick talker," Uncle Jud admitted to his wife later
+on, "a sorter chinaware, pictur-book feller 'thout much harm in him.
+I kinder felt sorry for him, so I 'lowed we'd keep him over night.
+Guess he ain't much use in the world."
+
+How little use and how much harm he was capable of may be gleaned from a
+brief resume of this stranger's history.
+
+He was, as he stated, without occupation and with plenty of money. He
+also, as stated, loved trout brooks and wildwood life--not wildwood life
+in its true sense, but the summer-day kind, where, clad as he was,
+he could follow some meadow brook or sit in the shade and watch it
+while indulging in day-dreams and smoking. He loved these things, but
+he loved fair ladies--collectively--still more. He had stumbled upon
+Peaceful Valley by accident, coming to it from a fashionable resort to
+escape an intrigue with a foolish _grande dame_ and consequent irate
+husband. Chip's face and form had caught his eyes as he strolled by that
+day, and admission to the home of Uncle Jud and opportunity to meet,
+and, if possible, impress this handsome country lass, had been a matter
+of shrewd calculation with him. He had purposely remained up the brook
+until nightfall. He watched for and intercepted Uncle Jud in the nick
+of time, persuaded that confiding man that he was too tired to reach the
+village, and with all the blandishments of speech at his command, had
+obtained entry to this home.
+
+But he failed to impress Chip as he had hoped. She was no fool, if she
+had been reared at Tim's Place. A certain shiftiness in his eyes when he
+looked at her, a covert, sideways glance, never firm but ever elusive,
+was soon noted and awoke her suspicion. Then the glib story he had
+told of himself was soon contradicted by him in a few minor details.
+Like all liars, he lacked a perfect memory, and, talking freely, he
+occasionally crossed his own tracks.
+
+Unfortunately for him, he also showed more interest in her than in the
+brook the next day, and the following one he capped the climax by asking
+her to go fishing with him--an invitation which she promptly refused.
+
+"I don't like that Mr. Goodnow," she asserted to Uncle Jud a little
+later. "I think he's a deceitful man. He pesters me every chance he
+can, and I wish he'd go away."
+
+That was enough for Uncle Jud, and after supper he harnessed his horse
+and politely but firmly requested Mr. Goodnow's company to the village.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+For many weeks now Chip had suffered from a troubled conscience, and,
+like most of us, was unable to face its consequences and admit her sin.
+
+Time and again she had planned how she could best evade it and yet bring
+those two brothers together without first confessing. Old Cy must be
+told, of course. She could explain her conduct to him. He would surely
+forgive her, she thought, and then, maybe, find another home for her
+somehow and somewhere. Oversensitive as she was, to now confess her
+cowardly concealment and her deception of those who had loved and trusted
+her, seemed horrible.
+
+But events were stronger than her will, for one day in the last of
+August, Uncle Jud returned from the village store, bringing dress
+materials and startling information. "Cap'n Bemis is failin' purty
+fast," he said, "so Aunt Abby writes, an' she ain't comin' up here.
+It won't make no difference to you, girlie," he continued, turning to
+Chip. "I've brought home stuff to rig ye out fer school. Miss Solon
+the dressmaker's comin' to-morrer, 'n' we'll take keer o' ye in
+good shape. We've made up our minds ye belong to us fer good, me
+'n' Mandy," he added, smiling at Chip, "an' I shall go with ye
+to Christmas Cove, if Cap'n Bemis ain't improvin', 'n' find ye a
+boardin' place."
+
+"I'm awful sorry to hear 'bout the Cap'n," interrupted Aunt Mandy,
+as if the other matter and Chip's future were settled definitely;
+"but if he drops off, Aunt Abby must come here fer good. I dunno but
+it'll be a relief," she added, looking at Uncle Jud and sighing.
+"'Twa'n't no love-match in the first place, 'n' Abby's mind's
+always been sot on your brother Cyrus, 'n' she never quite gin up the
+idee he was alive."
+
+And now a sudden faintness came to Chip as the chasm in her own life was
+thus opened. Only one instant she faltered, and then her defiant courage
+rose supreme and she took the plunge.
+
+"Oh, your brother Cyrus isn't dead, Uncle Jud," she exclaimed, "he's
+alive and I know him. I've known it all summer and dare not tell
+because I'm a miserable coward and couldn't own up that I lied to you.
+My name isn't Raymond, it's McGuire; and my father was a murderer,
+and I'm nobody and fit for nobody. I know you'll all despise me now
+and I deserve it. I'm willing to go away, though," and the next
+instant she was kneeling before Uncle Jud and sobbing.
+
+It had all come in a brief torrent of pitiful confession which few would
+be brave enough to make.
+
+To Chip, seeing herself as she did, it meant loss of love, home, respect,
+and all else she now valued, and that she must become a homeless wanderer
+once more.
+
+But Uncle Jud thought otherwise, for now he drew the sobbing girl into
+his lap.
+
+"Quit takin' on so, girlie," he said, choking back a lump; "why,
+we'll all love ye ten times more fer all this, an' ez fer bein' a
+nobody, ye're a blessed angel to us fer bringin' the news ye hev."
+And then he kissed her, while Aunt Mandy wiped her eyes on her apron.
+
+The shower, violent for a moment, was soon over; for as Chip raised her
+wet eyes, a sunshiny smile illumined Uncle Jud's face.
+
+"If Cyrus is alive," he said, "as ye callate, I'll thank God till I
+set eyes on him, and then I think I'll lick him fer not huntin' me up
+all these years."
+
+"But mebbe he found Abby was married 'n' didn't want to," interposed
+Aunt Mandy. "We mustn't judge him yet."
+
+"No, I won't judge him," asserted Uncle Jud; "I'll jest cuff him,
+good 'n' hard, an' let it go at that.
+
+"Ez fer you, girlie, an' jest to set yer mind at rest, we found out
+what your right name was and where ye run away from last fall, but never
+let on to nobody. 'Twas your business and nobody else's, an' made no
+difference in our feelin's, ez ye must see; an' now I'll tell ye how
+I found out.
+
+"I was down to the Corners one day arter ye went to Christmas Cove,
+'n' a feller--nice-lookin' feller, too, with honest brown eyes--was
+askin' if anybody had seen or heard o' a runaway girl by the name o'
+McGuire. Said she'd run away from Greenvale--'That's 'bout a hundred
+miles from here,' he said--an' he was huntin' for her. Nobody at
+the Corners knew about ye 'n' I kept still, believin' ye had reason
+fer not wantin' to be found out."
+
+And now another tide--the thrill of love--surged in Chip's heart, and
+her face became glorified.
+
+And so the clouds rolled away. That night Chip wrote a brief but curious
+letter, so odd, in fact, it must be quoted verbatim:--
+
+[Illustration: "Quit takin' on so, girlie," he said.]
+
+  "Mr. Martin Frisbie,
+
+  "Please send word at once to Mr. Cyrus Walker that his brother
+  Judson, who lives in Riggsville, wants to see him. No one else
+  must be told of this, for it's a secret.
+
+                                                "One who Knows."
+
+But Chip's secret was a most transparent one, for when this missive
+reached Martin three days later, he recognized its angular penmanship
+and similarity to the note Aunt Comfort still treasured, and knew that
+Chip wrote it.
+
+It startled him somewhat, however, for Old Cy's youthful history was
+unknown to him, and suspecting that some mystery lay beneath this
+information, he told no one, but started for Riggsville at once.
+
+The tide of emotion that had upset the even tenor of Uncle Jud's home
+life slowly ebbed away, and a keen sense of expectancy took its place.
+
+Chip, after giving him her letter, explained that Old Cy was most likely
+in the wilderness, and that the letter might not reach him for weeks.
+
+And then one day a broad-shouldered, rather commanding, and somewhat
+citified man drove up to the home of Uncle Jud.
+
+"Does Mr. Judson Walker live here?" he inquired of Aunt Mandy, who met
+him at the door.
+
+Her admission of that fact was scarce uttered when there came a
+rustling of skirts, a "Why, Mr. Frisbie!" and Chip was beside her,
+at which Martin, collected man of the world that he was, felt an unusual
+heart-throb of thankfulness.
+
+A little later, when Uncle Jud had been summoned into their newly
+furnished "keeping room," disclosures astonishing to all followed.
+
+"We have been searching for you, Chip, far and near," Martin assured
+them, "and Old Cy is still at it. He left us at the camp, almost a year
+ago, came to Greenvale, found you had run away, and came back to tell
+us. It upset us all so that we broke camp at once, taking Amzi with us,
+and returned to Greenvale. Old Cy there bade us good-bye and started
+to find you. Ray also began a search as well. I've advertised in dozens
+of papers, have kept Levi on watch for you at Grindstone ever since, and
+now I hope you will return with me to Greenvale."
+
+"I thank you all, oh, so much," answered Chip, scared a little at this
+proposal, "but I don't want to. I'm nobody there and never can be.
+I'd be ashamed to face folks there any more."
+
+"I guess she best stay with us," put in Uncle Jud, "fer we sorter
+'dopted her, 'n' not meanin' no disrespect to you folks, I callate
+she'll be more content here. I'd like ye to get word to Cyrus, though,
+soon's possible. I hain't sot eyes on him fer forty years, 'n',"
+his eyes twinkling, "I'm jest spilin' to pull his hair 'n' cuff
+him."
+
+"I will help out in that matter at once, and more than gladly,"
+replied Martin, again looking at Chip and noting how improved she was;
+"but I still think Miss Runaway had better return with me. We need you,
+Chip," he continued earnestly, "and so does some else I can name,
+more than you imagine, I fancy, and my wife will welcome you with open
+arms, you may be sure. As for that foolish Hannah, she's the most
+penitent person in Greenvale. There's another reason still," he
+added, glancing around with a smile, "and no one is more glad of it
+than we all are. It's a sixty-thousand-dollar reason--your heritage,
+Miss Vera McGuire, for your father is dead, and that amount is now
+in the Riverton Savings Bank awaiting you."
+
+Martin had expected this news to be overpowering, and a "Good God!"
+from Uncle Jud, and a gasping "Land sakes!" from Aunt Mandy, proved
+that it was.
+
+Chip's face, however, was a study. First she grew pale, then flashed
+a scared glance from one to another of the three who watched her, and
+then almost did her shame and hatred of this vile parent find expression.
+
+"I'm glad he--no, I won't say so, for he was my father," she
+exclaimed; "but I want Old Cy to have some of the money, and Uncle
+Jud here, and you folks, all. I was a pauper long enough," and then,
+true to her instinct of how to escape from trouble, she ran out of the
+room.
+
+"She's a curis gal," asserted Uncle Jud, looking after her as if
+feeling that she needed explanation, "the most curis gal I ever saw.
+But we can't let her go, money or no money, Mr. Frisbie. I found her
+one night upon top o' Bangall Hill. She was so starved an' beat out
+from trampin' she couldn't hardly crawl up on to the wagon, 'n'
+yet she said she wouldn't be helped 'thout she could arn it. I think
+she's like folks we read about, who starve ruther'n beg. But she kin
+have all we've got some day, an' we jest can't let her go."
+
+And Martin, realizing its futility, made no further protest.
+
+Something of chagrin also came to him, for, broad-minded as he was,
+he realized how partial neglect, the narrow religious prejudice of
+Greenvale, and unwise notice of her childish ideas about spites and
+Old Tomah's superstitions had all conspired to drive her away. She was
+honest and self-respecting, "true blue," as Old Cy had said, grateful
+as a fawning dog for all that had been done for her, and in spite of
+her origin, a circumstance that carried no weight with Martin, she was
+one, he believed, who would develop into splendid womanhood. That she
+was well on her way toward that goal, her improved speech and devotion to
+these new friends gave ample evidence.
+
+And now Ray's position in this complex situation occurred to Martin;
+for this young man's interest in Chip and almost heart-broken grief over
+her disappearance had long since betrayed his attachment.
+
+"I suppose you may have guessed that there was a love-affair mixed up
+with this episode," he said to the two somewhat dazed people.
+
+"I callated thar was, that fust night," Uncle Jud responded, his eyes
+twinkling again, "an' told Mandy so. 'Twas that more'n anything
+else kept us from quizzin' the gal. I knowed by her face she had heart
+trouble, 'n' I've seen the cause on't."
+
+"You have," exclaimed Martin, astonished in turn, "for Heaven's sake,
+where?"
+
+"Oh, down to the Corners, 'most a year ago, 'n' a likely boy he was,
+too."
+
+"And never told her?"
+
+"No, why should I, thinkin' she'd run away from him. We didn't want
+to spile her plans. We found out, though, her name was McGuire, but
+never let on till she told us a spell ago." And then Uncle Jud told
+the story of Ray's arrival in Riggsville in search of Chip.
+
+"That fellow is my nephew, Raymond Stetson," rejoined Martin with
+pride, "he also is an orphan, and I have adopted him. Chip has no cause
+to be ashamed of his attachment."
+
+"I don't callate she is," replied Uncle Jud. "'Tain't that that
+jinerally makes a gal kick over the traces. Mebbe 'twas suthin some o'
+you folks said." And then a new light came to Martin.
+
+"Mr. Walker," he answered impressively, "in every village there is
+always a meddlesome old maid who invariably says things she'd better
+not, and ours is no exception. In this case it was a dependent of our
+family who took a dislike to Chip, it seems, and her escapade was its
+outcome."
+
+"Wal, ye've got to hev charity for 'em," replied Uncle Jud with a
+broad smile. "Never havin' suffered the joys 'n' sorrows o' love,
+they look at it sorter criss-cross, an' mebbe this 'un did. Old maids
+are a good deal like cider--nat'raly turn into vinegar. What wimmin need
+more'n all the rest is bein' loved, 'n' if they don't get it, they
+sour up in time an' ain't no comfort to themselves nor nobody else.
+Then ag'in, not havin' no man nor no babies to look arter, they take
+to coddlin' cats 'n' dogs 'n' parrots, which ain't nat'ral."
+
+"I think," continued Uncle Jud, "now that we've turned another
+furrow, you'd best stop a day or two with us, 'n' sorter git
+'quainted. We'll be mighty glad to hev ye, me an' Mandy, an' then
+ag'in thar's a lot o' good trout holes up the brook. We hev plenty
+to eat, 'n' mebbe a few days here in Peaceful Valley'll sorter
+reconcile ye to leavin' the gal with us." And nothing loath, Martin
+accepted.
+
+Aunt Mandy and Chip now bestirred themselves as never before. The
+dressmaker was left to her own resources, Martin and Uncle Jud rigged
+fish-poles and started for the brook. Chip, with pail in hand, hurried
+away to the fields, and when teatime arrived, the big platter of crisp
+fried trout, saucers filled with luscious blackberries, and ample
+shortcake of the same with cream that poured in clots, assured Martin
+that these people did indeed have plenty to eat.
+
+"How did this come to be named Peaceful Valley?" he queried, when they
+had all gathered around the table. "It's very appropriate."
+
+"Wal," answered Uncle Jud, "we got it from a feller that come up
+here paintin' picturs one summer, an'," chuckling, "'twas all we
+got for a month's board, at that. He was a sort o' skimpy critter,
+with long hair, kinder pale, and chawed tobacco stiddy. He 'lowed
+his name was Grahame, that he was in the show business 'n' gittin'
+backgrounds, as he called 'em, fer show picturs. He roved up 'n' down
+the brook, puttin' rocks 'n' trees 'n' waterfalls on paper, allus
+gittin' 'round reg'lar 'bout meal-time--must 'a' gained twenty
+pounds while here. An' then one mornin' he was missin', 'n' so
+was Aunt Mandy's gold thimble 'n' all her silver spoons. She'd sorter
+took to him, too, he was that palaverin' in his way."
+
+There now ensued a series a questions from Uncle Jud in regard to Old
+Cy--how long Martin had known him, and all that pertained to his history.
+
+It was gladly recited by Martin, together with all the strange happenings
+in the wilderness, the finding of Chip, the half-breed's pursuit and
+abduction of her, and much else that has been told.
+
+It was almost midnight ere Martin was shown to the best front chamber,
+and even then he lay awake an hour, listening to the steady prattle of a
+near-by brook and thinking of all that had happened.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+A tone of regret crept into his voice, however, when, after thanking
+Uncle Jud and Aunt Mandy, and bidding them good-bye, he addressed Chip.
+
+"I wish I could take you back with me," he said, "your return would
+be such a blessing to Aunt Comfort and my wife. You may not believe it,
+but you are dear to them both. I must insist that you at least pay us a
+visit soon. Here is your bank book," he added, presenting it. "You
+are rich now, or at least need never want, for which we are all grateful.
+And what about Ray?" he added, pausing to watch her. "What shall I say
+to him? Shall I tell him to come and see you?"
+
+Chip shook her head firmly. "No, no," she answered, "please don't
+do that. Some day I may feel different, but not now."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+Sad news arrived in Peaceful Valley a week later, for Captain Bemis had
+passed on, Aunt Abby was in lonely sorrow, and wrote for Chip to come
+at once.
+
+Her fate was now linked with these people. Aunt Abby had been kind and
+helpful, and Chip, more than glad to return a little of the obligation,
+hurried to Christmas Cove.
+
+It was a solemn and silent house she now entered. Aunt Abby, despite
+the fact that it was not a love-match, mourned her departed companion.
+The mill's pertinent silence added gloom, and Chip's smiling face and
+affectionate interest was more than welcome to Aunt Abby.
+
+And now that concealment was no longer needed, Chip hastened to tell her
+story in full.
+
+How utterly Aunt Abby was astonished, how breathlessly she listened
+to Chip's recital, and how, when the climax came and Chip assured her
+that good Old Cy Walker was still alive, Aunt Abby collapsed entirely,
+sobbing and thanking God all at once, is but a sidelight on this tale.
+
+"I couldn't tell you before," Chip assured her, while her own tears
+still flowed. "I was so ashamed and guilty all in one, I couldn't
+bear to. I never did so mean a thing in all my life, and never will
+again. But when Uncle Jud told me what you didn't, and how much he
+cared for me, and how you once cared for Uncle Cy, I went all to pieces
+and told the whole story and sent word to Uncle Cy that day. I feel so
+guilty now, and so mean, I don't see how you can forgive me."
+
+But Aunt Abby's forgiveness was not slow in coming. The past ten days of
+sorrow had left her heart very tender. In spite of being "book-larned,"
+she was very humane. Chip's sad life and misfortunes appealed to
+her, as they had to Uncle Jud, and true Christian woman that she was, her
+heart opened to Chip.
+
+"I hope we shall never be parted while I live," she said, as the tears
+came again. "I have no children, and no one to live for but my sister.
+I am so wonted to Christmas Cove, I could not feel at home anywhere else.
+If Uncle Jud will consent, I will adopt you legally, and when I am laid
+away, all I have shall be yours."
+
+And so Chip McGuire, waif of the wilderness, child of an outlaw, once
+sold to a human brute, yet fighting her way upward and onward to a better
+life, despite every drawback, now found a home and mother.
+
+No light of education had illumined her pathway, no Christian teaching
+and no home example, only the inborn and God-given impulse of purity,
+self-respect, and gratitude; and yet, like a bud forcing its way up out
+of a muck heap and into the sunshine, so Chip had emerged to win respect
+and love.
+
+But all her history is not told yet. She still lacked even a common
+education. There was still an old man seeking to find her, who was yet
+wandering afar. A homeless, almost friendless old man was he, whose
+life had gone amiss, and whose sole ambition was to do for her and
+find content in her happiness. A wanderer and recluse for many years, he
+was still more so now, and out of place as well among the busy haunts
+of men. More than that, he was an object of curiosity to all grown people
+and the jest of the young, as he tramped up and down the land in search
+of Chip.
+
+And what a pitiful quest it was,--this asking the same question thousands
+of times, this lingering in towns to watch mill operatives file out,
+this peering into stores and marts, to go on again, and repeat it for
+months and months.
+
+There was still another link in this chain,--a boy, so far as experience
+goes, who was only deterred from unwise haste by a cool-headed man.
+
+"You had better not go to Chip now," Martin said to him on his
+return from Peaceful Valley. "She is an odd child of nature, and you
+won't lose by waiting. My advice to you is to forget her for the
+present, find some profitable occupation, and then, when you have made a
+little advancement in life, go and woo her if you can. To try it now
+is foolish."
+
+It was cold comfort for Ray.
+
+One of Chip's first acts of emancipation was to write to Aunt Comfort
+and Angie, assuring both of her love and best wishes, and thanking them
+for all they had done. Both letters were cramped in chirography but
+correct in spelling, and in Angie's was a note for Martin, asking that
+he draw one hundred dollars of her money and send it to her, and as
+much more to pay some one to follow Old Cy. The latter request Martin
+ignored, however, for he had already set the machinery of newspaperdom at
+work, and an advertisement for information of that wanderer was flying
+far and wide.
+
+Of the money sent her, Chip made odd and quite characteristic uses, only
+one of which needs mention,--the purchase of a banjo. Had Ray known
+this, and that the tender memory it invoked was the reason for this
+investment, he would have had less cause for grief. But Ray did not,
+which was all the better for him.
+
+And now, while she is in good company at Christmas Cove, with Mr. Bell,
+syntax, decimal fractions, the planetary system, and divisions of the
+earth six hours of each school day, or with Aunt Abby sewing, or picking
+at the banjo, or attending church, we must leave Chip and follow Old Cy.
+
+With a hunter's instinct he had calculated that Chip would head for the
+place of her birth, and then, if possible, send word to either himself
+or the Indian. That she had made way with herself he did not consider
+probable. She was not of that fibre, he felt positive; but instead,
+would make her own way across country, working, if need be, to obtain
+food and shelter until she at last reached the one spot nearest her
+heart,--her mother's grave.
+
+Believing this of her, and judging rightly, he left Greenvale, and, as
+it happened, twice crossed and once followed the very route she had
+taken for miles. That he failed to hear of her from the many he asked
+was solely due to accident, added to her own caution in avoiding all
+observant eyes.
+
+And what an almost hopeless and interminable tramp he took! Back and
+forth across the section of country she was likely to follow for weeks
+and weeks, halting a day in every village and two or three in each city,
+asking the same question over and over again, until his indomitable
+courage and almost deathless faith slowly ebbed away.
+
+Autumn came, the leaves grew scarlet and brown, snow followed, and winter
+locked all streams, and still Old Cy journeyed on. Spring and sunshine
+once more warmed the earth into life, the fields grew green, and yet he
+paused not.
+
+With June and the real beginning of summer, however, came a new
+inspiration, which was to go at once by rail and stage to Chip's native
+town and learn if, perchance, she, or any news of her, had reached this
+village.
+
+Another thought also came with this,--that Martin might soon again visit
+the woods and perhaps he could intercept him.
+
+A little satisfaction was obtained by this advance move, for when this
+village was reached, Levi was found waiting.
+
+"I've been watchin' for the gal over eight months now, under pay from
+Mr. Frisbie," he assured Old Cy when they met. "I also sent word to Old
+Tomah late last fall, 'n' he came out o' the woods 'n' stayed here
+two months, but nothin's been heard o' poor Chip by any one, 'n' I
+doubt ever will be."
+
+"Mebbe not yet," answered Old Cy, "but thar will be some day, an'
+here, too. She hadn't a cent when she left Greenvale--only grit,
+'n' it's a long ways here fer a gal what's got to arn her vittles
+while she's trampin'. It may be one year, it may be two, but some
+day Chip'll show up here, if she lives to do it. I callate I'd best
+wait here a few weeks tho', an' then, if nothin' turns up, I'll
+start ag'in."
+
+Nothing did, however; but during his stay, Old Cy learned that Chip's
+entire history, from the night she left Tim's Place until she ran away
+from Greenvale, was known at this village. This fact was of no value
+whatever, except to prove the universal interest all humanity has in
+the fate and fortune of one another.
+
+"I never told what happened in the woods," Levi responded when Old
+Cy questioned him, "an' didn't need to, for it got here 'fore I
+did. I jest 'lowed it was true, 'n' that I was hired to wait and watch
+here for Chip. It's curis, too, how everybody here feels 'bout it.
+They're a poorish sort here, families o' lumbermen, men that work in
+the sawmills, some farmin', an' all findin' it hard work to git a
+livin'. An' yet they're so interested in Chip 'n' so sorry for
+her, if she shows up now she'd be carried 'round the village like
+some queen 'ud be, with everybody follerin'. Thar's 'nother curis
+thing happened since I've been here that I'd never believed o'
+these people neither. I told them, of course, who I was, 'n' what I
+was here for, 'n' who was payin' me, when I come, an' then as
+time kinder went slow, I began huntin' some 'round here. Wal, thar's a
+little graveyard up back o' the village 'n' all growed up to weeds
+'n' bushes, an' one day last fall I happened to be lookin' it
+over 'n' somebody come 'long. It was a man that keeps store here,
+an' I asked him if 'twas here Chip's mother was buried. He said
+'twas, an' pointed out the spot 'way up in one corner, 'thout any
+stone, 'n' the mound most hid in a tangle. I didn't say nothin'--jest
+looked, an' went on, 'n' that was all. Wal, the curis part is last
+spring they sot a couple o' men to work cleanin' up the graveyard
+o' bushes an' laid out walks 'n' built a new fence 'round it. That
+one unmarked grave got the most attention o' all, for they turfed it
+over nice and built a little fence 'round it. I kinder callated how
+'n' why it all come 'bout, 'n' feelin' I oughter do suthin, I
+had a little stun sot up with Chip's mother's name on it."
+
+But time also went "kinder slow" for Old Cy, and as the date for
+Martin's probable coming had now passed, he finally yielded to Levi's
+suggestion and the call of the wilderness as well, and the two started
+for Martin's camp.
+
+It was almost like a pilgrimage to one's boyhood home; for while scarce
+a year had elapsed since Old Cy and Martin's party left it, Nature,
+always seeking to hide human handiwork, had been busy, and the garden
+was a tangle of weeds. Amzi's old cabin was almost hid by bushes, the
+walks were choked with them, and a colony of squirrels frisked about,
+and now, alarmed at human presence, added a touch of pathos.
+
+One act of vandalism was in evidence, for some wandering trappers had
+apparently used the larger cabin the previous season. Its floor was
+littered with all manner of debris, the bones of a deer mouldered in the
+woodshed, and a family of porcupines had also found the premises
+available. The impression conveyed by the entire spot and its
+surroundings made even Levi gloomy, while Old Cy scarce spoke the entire
+first day there, except to exclaim at "varmints" who would break
+locks, use the cabin for months, and then leave a litter of garbage to
+draw vermin.
+
+"It's curis how near to hogs 'n' hyenas a few humans are," he
+said as he looked around and saw how these vandals had behaved. "They
+wa'n't satisfied with burglin' the cabin, turnin' it into a pig-pen,
+stealin' all they could carry off, but they was so durned lazy, they
+smashed up the furniture to burn."
+
+For a few days only these two fine old backwoodsmen tarried here, and
+then Old Cy proposed departure.
+
+"I can't take no comfort here, nohow," he said, "for the premises
+seem ha'nted. Whichever way I turn I 'spect to meet Amzi with his moon
+eyes, or see Chip watchin' me, or Angie steppin' out o' the cabin.
+If I stayed here long, I'd see Chip's spites crawlin' out o' the
+bushes soon ez it got dusky. I'm used to the woods, but this spot seems
+like a graveyard.
+
+"I never done no prayin'," he added sadly. "I don't b'lieve in't.
+But if I could set eyes on Chip this minit, I'd go right down on my
+knees 'n' say, 'Thank God for this blessin'.' I'm 'fraid I never
+will, though."
+
+The next morning these two friends left this abode of unseen forms,
+more disconsolate than ever. They halted at Tim's Place long enough
+to learn that no tidings of McGuire or the half-breed had even reached
+that filthy station, and then returned to the settlement once more. Here
+Old Cy waited until the summer waned, vainly hoping each day would at
+least bring some word from Martin or Chip, and then bade Levi good-bye,
+and departed.
+
+He had been gone a week, a wandering tramp once more, when Ray appeared,
+bearing the glad news that Chip had been found. And also another and a
+more astounding fact.
+
+But Old Cy was not there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+Life, always colorless at Christmas Cove, except in midsummer, now
+became changed for Aunt Abby. For all the years since her one girlish
+romance had ended, she had been a patient helpmate to a man she merely
+respected. Religion had been her chief solace. The annual visit to her
+sister's gave the only relief to this motionless life, monotonous as
+the tides sweeping in and out of the cove; but now a counter-current
+slowly flowed into it.
+
+Chip, of course, with her winsome eyes and grateful ways, was its
+mainspring, and so checkered had been her career and so humiliating all
+her past experiences, that now, escaped from dependence and feeling
+herself a valued companion, she tasted a new and joyous life. So true
+was this, that hard lessons at school, the regularity of church-going,
+and the unvarying tenor of it all seemed less by comparison.
+
+Another undercurrent, aside from Chip's devotion, also swept into Aunt
+Abby's feelings,--the strange emotions following the knowledge that
+her former lover was still alive. For many years she had waited and hoped
+for this sailor boy's return; then her heart had grown silent, as hope
+slowly ebbed, and then, almost forgetfulness--but not quite, however,
+for the long, lily-dotted mill-pond just above had now and then been
+visited by them. A certain curiously grown oak which was secluded near
+its upper end was once a trysting-place, and even the old mill with its
+plashing wheel held memories.
+
+And now after forty years, during which she had become gray-haired and
+slightly wrinkled, all these memories returned like ghosts of long ago.
+No word or hint of them fell from her lips, not even to Chip, who was
+now nearest to her; and yet had that girl been a mind-reader, she would
+have seen that Aunt Abby's persistent interest in all she had to tell
+about Old Cy meant something. Where he was now, how soon he would learn
+that his brother was still alive after all these years, was the one
+most pertinent subject oft discussed.
+
+How Chip felt toward him, not alone for the heritage he had secured
+for her, but for other and more valued heart interests, need not be
+specified. He had seemed almost a father to her at the lake. He was
+the first of her new-found friends whose feelings had warmed toward her,
+and Chip was now mature enough to value these blessings at their true
+worth.
+
+A certain mutual expectancy now entered the lives of Chip and Aunt Abby.
+Nothing could be done, however. Old Cy had gone out into the wide, wide
+world, as it were, searching for the little girl he loved. No manner
+of reaching him seemed possible; and yet, some day, he must learn what
+would bring him to them as fast as steam could fetch him.
+
+"I know that he loved me as his own child there at the lake," Chip said
+once in an exultant tone. "His going after me proves it; and once he
+hears where I am, he will hurry here, I know."
+
+Whether Aunt Abby's heart responded to that wish or not, she never
+disclosed.
+
+But the days, weeks, and months swept by, and Old Cy came not. Neither
+did any message come to Chip from Greenvale. At first, rebelling at
+Ray's treatment of her, Chip felt that she never wanted to see him
+again. She had been so tender and loving toward him at the lake, had
+striven so hard to learn and to be more like him, had waited and
+watched, counting the days until his return, only to be told what she
+could not forget and to find him so neglectful, so cool to her, when
+her girlish heart was so full of love, that her feelings had changed
+almost in one instant, and pride had made her bitter.
+
+Hannah had told an unpleasant truth, as Chip knew well enough; but truth
+and confiding love mixed illy, and Ray's conduct, leaving her as he did
+with scarce a word or promise, was an episode that had chilled and almost
+killed Chip's budding affection. As is always the case, such a feeling
+fades and flares like all others. There would now be a brief space when
+Chip hoped and longed for Ray's coming, and then days when no thought of
+him came.
+
+It was perhaps fortunate for him that Christmas Cove contained no serious
+admirer of Chip the while, else his cause and all memory of him would
+have been swept away. But that quaint village was peopled chiefly by old
+folk, those of the male persuasion being quite young, with a few girls
+of Chip's age. Few young men remained there to make their way, and so no
+added interest came to vary Chip's life.
+
+The coming of summer, however, brought the annual influx of city boarders
+once more. First came elderly ladies, more anxious about suitable rooms
+and food than aught else, and then came the younger ones, whose gowns
+and their display appeared the only motive for existence. A few young
+men followed in their wake. Now and then a small yacht anchored in the
+mouth of the cove. The long wharf became a rendezvous for promenaders,
+tennis courts were established, and gay costumes, bright parasols, and
+astounding hats were in evidence.
+
+It was all a new and fascinating panorama for Chip. Never before had she
+seen such butterflies of fashion, who glanced at her and her more modest
+raiment almost with scorn, and scarce conscious of them, she looked on
+with awe and admiration.
+
+The old mill, the quaint house where she dwelt, and especially the
+long pond, now sprinkled thickly with lilies, became a Mecca for these
+newcomers, and not a pleasant day passed but from two to a dozen of
+them came trooping about and around it. They peered into the mill,
+exclaimed over the great dripping wheel, and almost shouted at the sight
+of the white blossoms on the pond.
+
+One day a bevy of laughing and chattering girls with one gallant in
+white flannels approached the mill while Chip in calico was kneeling
+beside a flower-bed. She looked up at once and saw her erstwhile admirer
+at Peaceful Valley, Mr. Goodnow. One instant only their eyes met, his
+to turn quickly away, and then Chip, coloring at the slight, rose and
+entered the house. Once safe in this asylum, womanlike, she hastened
+to peep out at the arrivals. They halted for only a glance about and
+then, their protector (?) still in the lead, vanished behind the mill.
+
+The next afternoon, just as Chip was returning from the village store,
+she met Mr. Goodnow again, this time alone.
+
+With a bow and smile he raised his hat and halted.
+
+"Why, Miss Raymond," he exclaimed eagerly, "I am so glad to meet you
+again. Are you visiting here, and when did you leave Peaceful Valley?"
+
+"I am living here now," returned Chip, coolly, continuing on her way,
+"where you saw me yesterday."
+
+"Oh, yes," he answered, not the least abashed, "and you must pardon
+me for not recognizing you then. It's been a year, you know, since I
+saw you, and you have changed so in that time."
+
+"Of course," responded Chip, her eyes snapping, "you couldn't
+remember me so long. Why don't you tell the truth and say you didn't
+dare know me before those ladies?"
+
+"Why, Miss Raymond, you wrong me; but I admire your frankness--it is
+so unusual among your charming sex!"
+
+"Then you did know me," she returned sarcastically, "I knew well
+enough, and if they were with you now, you wouldn't know me. I'm no
+fool, if I do wear calico."
+
+It was blunt. It was truthful. It was Chip all over; but this polished
+rake never winced.
+
+"I never dispute a lady," he answered suavely; "it doesn't pay.
+Besides, I have found they all prefer sweet lies instead of truth. And
+now I will admit you looked so charming as you raised your face from
+among the flowers that I was dazed and didn't think to bow."
+
+"You weren't so dazed but that you managed to get away in a hurry."
+
+"Why, of course, I was piloting my friends up to the lily pond," he
+returned, still unruffled, "and much as I desired, I couldn't pause to
+visit with you."
+
+They had now reached Chip's home. She halted at the gate, turned, and
+looked at him.
+
+"I hope we may be friends, now that you have scolded me enough," he
+added. "I had a delightful week with you last summer. I've lived it
+over many times. May I not call here to-morrow, and you and I will gather
+some of the lilies?"
+
+A droll smile crept over Chip's face at this.
+
+"Yes, if you will bring your lady friends also," she answered. And
+with a "Thank you," and raising his hat once more, this smooth-spoken
+fellow, impervious to sarcasm, turned away.
+
+"Who was the young man?" Aunt Abby queried, when Chip entered the house.
+
+"It's a Mr. Goodnow, who spent a week with Uncle Jud," she answered,
+smiling. "He came by here yesterday with three ladies and was close to
+me when I was working in my posy bed. He made out he didn't remember
+me then, when I met him this afternoon. I guess I was saucy to him. I
+meant to be. He wouldn't take it, and walked home with me."
+
+Aunt Abby looked surprised.
+
+"I hope you weren't really saucy," she answered, "that wouldn't have
+been becoming."
+
+Mr. Goodnow appeared next day, not at all disturbed, and Chip, a little
+more gracious, consented to gather lilies with him. The leaky punt
+that had served for that purpose many years was bailed out. He manned
+the oars. Chip bared one rounded arm, and, thus equipped, two really
+enjoyable hours were passed.
+
+As Uncle Jud had said, he was a "slick talker." Truth was not
+considered by him; instead, subtile flatteries were his stock in
+trade, and Chip, for the first time in her life, felt their insidious
+influence. She was in no wise deceived. Her woman's wit and good sense
+detected the sham, and caring not one whit for him, she responded as
+saucily as she chose. It was not, perhaps, quite ladylike, but Chip
+was not as yet a polished lady; instead, she was a decidedly blunt-spoken
+girl who enjoyed exasperating this fashionable Lothario.
+
+And never before had he met her like or one so fearless of speech.
+
+"You are the sauciest girl I have ever had the pleasure of meeting,"
+he said, as they drew up to the landing and began sorting the lilies. "I
+didn't notice it so much last summer; and yet you are no less charming,
+mainly because you are so frank. Most ladies whom I know are not so.
+They are arrant hypocrites and not one assertion in ten can be taken
+at its face value."
+
+"You seem to have been an apt scholar," Chip responded, smiling. "If
+you like my blunt speech, as you say, why don't you imitate it and be
+truthful for once in your life?"
+
+"I dare not. No man ever yet won a woman's favor by plain speech."
+
+"And so you want my favor. What for? I am not of your sort. I do not
+spend my life playing golf and tennis and wearing fine clothes."
+
+"But you ought to. You have the face and form required, and once you
+got into the swim of society, you would become a leader."
+
+Chip greeted this with a laugh. "Do you plaster it on as thick as that
+with every one," she queried, "and will they stand it?"
+
+"Why, yes," he chuckled, "and almost beg for more. My ladies thrive on
+flattery, and unless a man doles it out to them, they think him stupid."
+
+When he had helped her out of the boat, holding and pressing her hand
+unduly long she thought, he gathered up the lilies and, with a graceful
+bow and "Sweets to the sweet," offered them to her.
+
+"I don't want them," she answered bluntly. "Take them to your arrant
+hypocrites and tell them a girl you couldn't fool sent 'em." And
+nonplussed a little at this speech, but still smiling, he followed Chip
+to the house. At the gate he halted and their eyes met.
+
+"I've had a most charming morning, for which I thank you," he said.
+And drawing two of the largest blooms from the bunch of lilies, he laid
+the rest on the gate-post. "You will have to take them," he added.
+"And now I have something else to propose. I own a small yacht. It is
+anchored down near the wharf. How would you like a sail to-morrow? I
+shall be highly pleased to have you for my guest. Will you go?"
+
+But Chip was not caught so easily.
+
+"I'll go if you will ask Aunt Abby also," she answered, "not
+otherwise."
+
+"Why, of course," he responded graciously, "that is understood."
+
+And still unruffled by this parting evidence of distrust, he bowed
+himself away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+  "A girl with a new ring allus hez trouble with her hair."
+  --Old Cy Walker.
+
+_As_ might be expected, Chip gave Aunt Abby a full recital of her
+morning's episode as soon as she entered the house, and with it her
+comments upon this smooth-spoken young man.
+
+"He reeled off flattery by the yard," she said, "and no matter how I
+took it, or how sharply I set him back, he kept at it. The way he piled
+it on was almost funny, just as though he thought I believed it. Of
+course I didn't, not a word, and what's more I wouldn't trust him
+farther than I could see him. He's got shifty eyes, and Cy once told
+me never to believe a man with such eyes. He wants me to go sailing
+with him to-morrow, and I said I would go if you were asked. I knew you
+wouldn't go, however."
+
+"Of course not," answered Aunt Abby, severely, "and his asking you in
+such a way was almost an insult. If he had meant well, he would have
+said he was taking other friends out and would have asked us both to
+join them. I should not have consented to that even, however. These
+summer people are not our sort, and to accept such favors from them is to
+put ourselves in a fair way of being laughed at. I would advise, also,
+that you have no more to say to this young man. It will not reflect
+credit upon you if you do."
+
+That afternoon, while Chip practised upon her banjo, it being vacation
+time, Aunt Abby called upon several neighbors with news-gathering intent.
+She succeeded to the fullest, and that evening related it to Chip.
+
+"This Mr. Goodnow has been here about two weeks," she said, "and is
+boarding at Captain Perkins's. He came in a small steam yacht he claims
+he owns, and has been going about with three ladies who are stopping at
+the Mix House. Two of them are sisters, the Misses Wilson, and a Mrs.
+Simpson, a widow. He seems the most devoted to the widow. They have been
+out driving quite often, and once or twice she has been sailing with
+him alone. It's all right, of course, only she being a good deal older
+than he is, makes it seem curious. When he calls here to-morrow, as I
+suppose he will, I'd better see him."
+
+He called quite early the next morning, as may be guessed, and a more
+picture-book yachtsman Aunt Abby never set eyes upon. His white duck
+shoes, trousers, and cap, white flannel coat, dark blue silk shirt,
+jaunty sailor tie and russet belt, all completed an attire so spick and
+span that it seemed that he must have just emerged from a tailor shop.
+
+But Aunt Abby was not awed overmuch. She had seen his like before, and
+met him at her door with serene self-possession.
+
+"I am Mr. Goodnow," he explained with easy assurance, "and Miss
+Raymond has kindly consented to accept a few hours' enjoyment in my
+yacht if you will also honor me." And he bowed again.
+
+"We thank you very much, sir," Aunt Abby responded stiffly, "but I
+must decline for us both. We should hardly care to accept hospitalities
+which we could not return."
+
+"I regret it very much," he answered in a hurt tone, "and assure you
+I am the one to feel obligated." And then, as Aunt Abby drew back, and
+the door began to close very slowly, he bowed and retreated in good order.
+
+But he was not to be thus checkmated, and from now on he began to watch
+for chances to intercept and accost Chip.
+
+It was, and always had been, a part of her nature to be out of doors as
+much as possible, and since the close of school she was out more than
+ever. Somewhat akin to Old Cy in love of Nature, the fields, woods, and
+streams had always attracted her, and at Christmas Cove the sea added a
+new charm to which she yielded nearly every pleasant day. And her steps
+led her far and wide.
+
+Down to the seldom-used wharf to watch the tide ebb and flow between its
+mussel-coated piles, over the broad-rippled sands of the cove when the
+tide left them bare, around to the long, rocky barrier beyond the cove
+where the sea waves dashed, were her favorite strolls.
+
+The next afternoon she strayed to where the ocean spray was leaping. She
+had scarce reached her favorite lookout spot, a shaded cliff, when she
+saw Goodnow approaching.
+
+Her first impulse was to return home at once, the next to remain.
+
+She did not fear him, he seemed such an effeminate, foppish sort of man,
+that lithe and strong as she was, she felt she could outrun him, or, if
+need be, throw him into the sea. And so she waited, cool and indifferent.
+Although conscious that he was nearing her, she never turned her head
+until he was beside her. Then she looked up.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said, raising his hat, "but may I share this
+cliff with you?" And he seated himself near.
+
+"It isn't mine," answered Chip, rather ungraciously, "so there's no
+need to ask."
+
+"But every lady has a right to decline a gentleman's company wherever
+she is," he responded in his usual suave tone. "I saw you coming here,
+and I'll admit I was bold enough to follow."
+
+"And what for?" she answered, in her blunt way, "I never invited you."
+
+"No, you didn't, and I never expect you will. But you are such a saucy,
+fascinating little wood-nymph that I couldn't help it. I am sorry,
+though, that you and your worthy aunt refused my yacht yesterday. I
+wanted an opportunity to get better acquainted with her and yourself as
+well, and thought that a good way.
+
+"Do you love the ocean," he continued, as Chip made no response, "and
+is this village your real home, or do you reside at Peaceful Valley?"
+
+"I live here now," returned Chip, resolving to be brief in all her
+answers and hoping he would betake himself away.
+
+She did not like him, nor his smooth, polished speech. She felt that
+it was all affected, and that at heart he meant no good toward her.
+Then his failure to recognize her when with his lady friends still
+rankled. She knew well enough that he dared not admit acquaintance
+with a calico-clad country girl at that moment. And what the gossips of
+Christmas Cove insinuated about him and this widow awoke her contempt.
+
+Totally unused to the ways of fashionable society as she was, for him to
+play court to a widow evidently ten or fifteen years his senior seemed
+unnatural.
+
+His almost nauseating and persistent flattery of herself was equally
+objectionable. All this flashed over her now while he was talking.
+
+"You must find it lonesome here," he said, in response to her
+admission; "but perhaps you have a beau, a sweetheart, somewhere, whom
+you care for."
+
+Chip colored slightly, but made no answer.
+
+"I'm sure you haven't here," he went on, "for I've not seen an
+eligible fellow native to this village since I came." He paused a
+moment, awaiting an admission, and then continued: "How do you pass
+the time, anyway, and isn't life here monotonous? Don't you long for
+some excitement, some fun, some color to it all? I've watched these
+villagers now for three weeks and their lives seem so prosy, so dead
+slow, it is painful. They get up, eat, chase the cows and chickens, hoe
+in the gardens, mow hay, and every blessed woman wears the same calico
+gown six days in the week. Sundays they all spruce up, go to meeting,
+and the next week repeat the programme. Isn't it so?"
+
+"I presume it is," answered Chip, with rising ire; "but if folks here
+weren't satisfied, they could move away, couldn't they? And if it's
+all so dull, what did you come here for? Nobody asked you, did they?"
+
+"No," he responded, laughing, "no one did, and no one will miss me
+when I go--not even you. The only redeeming feature is that they all seem
+willing to take my money."
+
+"Would you stay if they weren't," she returned, still more hotly,
+"would you sponge on us folks and sneer at us as well?"
+
+"Keep cool, my dear girl," he answered unruffled, "keep cool, and
+let your lovely hair grow. I'm not sneering at you or any one. I am
+merely stating facts. To us who live in the whirl of city life, a few
+weeks here is a delightful change, and we are glad to pay well for it. I
+am only speaking of how it must seem to live this way all the time."
+
+He paused a moment, watching Chip's face turned half away, and then
+continued persuasively: "I am sorry you are so ready to believe ill
+of me or to think I am sneering at all things. In that you have changed
+very much since last summer. Then you seemed to enjoy talking with me;
+now you blaze up into wrath at my pleasantry. I am very sorry you feel
+as you do. I'd like to be better friends with you if possible, otherwise
+I wouldn't have risked the rebuff I received from your excellent aunt
+yesterday. I'd like very much to call on you, and nothing would give
+me greater pleasure than to entertain you and your aunt on my boat. I
+am an idle fellow, I'll admit, with nothing to do but spend my time
+and money, but that is my misfortune, and you ought to have pity on me."
+
+And so this smooth-tongued, persuasive talker ran on and on while Chip,
+fascinated, in spite of her dislike of him, listened.
+
+More than that, he grew eloquent and even pathetic at times in describing
+his hopes and ambitions in life. He even asserted that he longed to
+live differently and to become a useful man, instead of an idle one. It
+was all hypocrisy, of course, but Chip was scarce able to detect it, and
+lulled by his specious, pleading voice, she admitted that she had no
+real reason for distrusting or disliking him. Also, that she would
+enjoy a sail on his boat, and would try to persuade her aunt to accept
+another invitation.
+
+This especially was what he most wanted, for shrewd schemer that he was,
+he knew that if he could ingratiate himself with this guardian aunt,
+permission to call must follow, and with that, some opportunity to make
+a conquest of this simple country girl.
+
+Sated as he was with the society of more polished and therefore
+artificial womanhood, _blase_ to all the purities of life and refined
+society, a roue and rake conversant with all vice, this fearless,
+wholesome, yet unsophisticated girl who seemed like a breath from the
+pine woods, attracted him as no other could.
+
+And now he had her almost spellbound on this lonely shore, with the sea
+murmuring at their feet and the cool winds whispering in the pine trees
+shading them.
+
+It was Don Juan and Haidee over again, only this Juan was a more selfish
+and heartless one, calculating on the ruin of this wood-born flower
+without thought of consequences.
+
+He made one mistake, however, after he had lulled her into almost
+believing him to be both honest and worthy,--he sneered at religion.
+
+"All that people go to church for is to see and be seen, ladies
+especially," he said. "They live to dress and show off their new
+gowns and hats, and were it not for the chance church-going gives
+them, not one parson in a hundred would have a corporal's guard for
+audience. As for the preaching, not one in ten understands a word of
+it, and most of those who understand fail to believe it. I don't, I am
+sure. I consider a minister is a man who talks to earn his money. A
+few old tabbies, of course, are sincere and believe in prayer and all
+that sort of foolishness, but the rest only make believe they do.
+There may be a God and maybe there isn't--I don't know. I doubt it,
+however. As for the hereafter, that is all moonshine. When we go,
+that is the end of us."
+
+"And so you don't believe in spirits and a future life," answered
+Chip, with sudden defiance. "Well, I do, and I know that people have
+souls that live again, for I've seen them, hundreds of times. As for all
+church-going people being hypocrites, that's a lie, and I know better.
+The best woman I ever knew believed in praying, and so did my mother,
+and I won't hear them called such a name."
+
+It was Chip, blazing up again, in defence of her own opinions, and this
+smooth-spoken fellow saw his mistake on the instant.
+
+"Oh, well, you may be right," he admitted at once. "I wasn't
+speaking of all womankind--only the fashionable ones whom I know. As
+for soul life, I want to believe as you do, of course, and wish you
+would convince me that it is true." And so peace was restored, and
+once more the lullaby of his wooing talk began.
+
+For two hours he spun to Chip the web of his blandishments, and then the
+sun warned her, and she rose to go.
+
+"It would be delightful to escort you home," he said, "but I fear I'd
+better not. Your aunt might see us returning, and scold you. Now if you
+will meet me here again to-morrow afternoon, and try to convince me that
+there is a future life, I shall be most happy. Will you?"
+
+But Chip was alert.
+
+"No, I don't think I shall," she responded bluntly; "I am not running
+after you--not a step. As for what you believe or don't believe, that
+isn't my lookout," and with an almost uncivil "Good day, sir," she
+left him.
+
+The farther away she got from this snakelike charmer, the more an
+intuitive belief in his real intentions possessed her. She was unskilled
+in the fine art of conversation, had only the inborn purity of her
+thoughts to protect her; and yet she half read this specious flatterer,
+and felt, rather than realized, his baseness.
+
+A change in her own convictions that now served as a mantle of protection
+against his persuasions had come to her during these dreamy hours by the
+sea. Accepting at first Old Tomah's superstitions, she had been led to
+contemplate the great question of future life and the existence of
+God. Aunt Comfort's unselfish character, combined with perfect faith
+in the Supreme Power, had had its influence. Angie's kindness and that
+first prayer Chip had heard in the tent were not lost. Aunt Abby's
+consistent belief and devotion to duty also had had its effect; and all
+these pertinent examples, combined with the impress of the vast ocean,
+the solitude of this lonely shore, and the echo of its ceaseless billows,
+had awakened true veneration in Chip's heart, and convinced her that
+some Unseen Power moved all human impulse and controlled all human
+destiny.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+After Chip had run away from Greenvale, concealment of her name and
+all else had forced itself upon her. It was not natural for her to
+deceive. She had kept it up for one unhappy year only under inward
+protest, which ended in abject confession and tears. Now recalling that
+unpleasant episode, she made haste to confess her long conversation with
+this fluent fellow.
+
+"Mr. Goodnow followed me over to the point this afternoon," she
+explained that evening to Aunt Abby, "and talked for two hours. He was
+nice enough, but he made me sick of him, he flattered me so much."
+
+Aunt Abby looked at her with a slight sense of alarm.
+
+"He certainly has the gift of impudence, at least," she said, "in
+view of the way I declined his invitation yesterday. I think you'd best
+discontinue your long rambles for the present, or until he leaves here.
+He is not our sort. He is not even a friend of ours, and if people see
+you together, they will say unkind things."
+
+That was warning enough for Chip, and from that time on she never even
+walked down to the village store except with Aunt Abby.
+
+A curious and almost ridiculous espionage followed, however, for a week,
+and not a pleasant afternoon passed but this fellow was noticed strolling
+somewhere near the old mill or past the house.
+
+Another amazing evidence of his intent was received a few days later, in
+the shape of a five-pound box of choicest candies, that came by express
+with his card. Aunt Abby opened this and saw the card, and the next day
+she commissioned the stage driver to deliver the box, card and all, to
+Mr. Goodnow at his boarding house.
+
+A long and adroitly worded letter to Chip came a day later, so humble,
+so flattering, and so importuning that it made her laugh.
+
+"I think that fellow must have gone crazy," she said, handing the
+letter to Aunt Abby, "he runs on so about how he can't sleep nights
+from thinking about me. He says that he must go away next week, and
+shall die if he can't see me once more. What ails him, anyway?"
+
+"Nothing, except evil intentions," responded Aunt Abby, perusing the
+missive. "He must think you a fool to believe such bosh," she added
+severely, after finishing it. "Honest love doesn't grow like a mushroom
+in one night, and the difference between his position and yours gives
+the lie to all he says. I hope he will go away next week, and never come
+back."
+
+Whether Chip's studied avoidance of him, combined with the snubbing,
+served its purpose, or he decided his quest was hopeless, could only be
+guessed, for he was seen no more near the mill, and the next week his
+yacht left Christmas Cove, and Chip felt relieved.
+
+It had been an experience quite new to her, and, in spite of its
+annoyance, somewhat exciting. It also served another purpose of more
+value,--it recalled Ray to her by sheer force of contrast. She had felt
+hurt ever since the night she left Greenvale. She had meant to put him
+out of her thoughts and forget all the silly hours and promises at the
+lake; and yet she never had succeeded. Instead, her thoughts turned
+to him in spite of her pride.
+
+And now, contrasting and comparing that honest, manly lad, a playmate
+only, and yet a lover as well, with this polished, fulsome, flattering,
+shifty-eyed fop, who sneered at everything good, only made Ray, with his
+far different ways, seem the more attractive.
+
+Then conscience began to smite her. She had yielded to pride and put
+him away from her thoughts. His uncle had almost pleaded for her to
+return to Greenvale, if only for a visit. She knew Ray had spent weeks
+in searching for her; yet not once in all the two years since they parted
+had she sent him a line of remembrance.
+
+More mature now, Chip began to see her own conduct as it was, and to
+realize that she had been both ungrateful and heartless; but she could
+not confess it to any one, not even Aunt Abby.
+
+Chip's life had been a strange, complex series of moods of peculiar
+effect, and her conduct must be judged accordingly.
+
+First, the dense ignorance of years at Tim's Place, with its saving
+grace of disgust at such surroundings and such a life. Then a few months
+with people so different and so kind that it seemed an entrance into
+heaven, to be followed by weeks of a growing realization that she was a
+nobody, and an outcast unfit for Greenvale.
+
+And then came the climax of all this: the bitter sneers of Hannah, Ray's
+cool neglect, the consciousness that she was only a dependent pauper,
+and then her flight into the world and away from all that stung her
+like so many whips.
+
+But a revulsion of feeling was coming. Chip, no longer a simple child of
+the wilderness, was realizing her own needs and her own nature. Something
+broader and more satisfying than school life and the companionship of
+Aunt Abby was needed; yet how to find it never occurred to her.
+
+With September came Aunt Abby's annual visit to Peaceful Valley. A
+few days before their departure, Chip received a letter which was so
+unexpected and so vital to her feelings that it must be quoted.
+
+It was dated at the little village of Grindstone, directed to Vera
+McGuire, care of Judson Walker, by whom it was forwarded to Christmas
+Cove.
+
+    "My dear Chip," it began.
+
+    "I feel that you will not care to hear from me, and yet I
+    must write. I know I am more to blame than any one for the way
+    you left Greenvale, and that you must consider me a foolish
+    boy, without much courage, which I have been, and I realize
+    it only too well now, when it is too late. But I am more of
+    a man to-day, I hope, and sometime I shall come and try to
+    obtain your forgiveness for being so blind. No one ever has
+    been, and I know no one ever will be, what you are to me. As
+    Old Cy says, 'Blessings brighten as they vanish,' and now,
+    after this long separation, one word and one smile from dear
+    little Chip would seem priceless to me, and I shall come and
+    try to win it before many months.
+
+    "I am here with Uncle Martin's old guide, Levi. We are going
+    into the woods to-morrow to gather gum and trap until spring.
+    I have hired two other men to help, and hope to do well and
+    make some money. I think you will be glad to know that Old
+    Cy was here this summer and was well. He does not know that
+    you have been found, and is still hunting for you. Levi told
+    me that the people here are much interested in you, that they
+    have fixed up the yard where your mother is buried, and he
+    put up a small stone.
+
+    "I wish I could hear from you, but there is no chance now.
+    Please try to forgive a foolish boy for being stupid, and think
+    of me as you did during those happy days by the lake.
+
+                                       "Good-bye,
+                                               "Ray."
+
+How every word of this half-boyish, half-manly letter was read and
+re-read by Chip; how it woke the old memories of the wilderness and of
+herself, a ragged waif there; and how, somehow, in spite of pride and
+anger, a little thrill of happiness crept into her heart, needs no
+explanation.
+
+But she was not quite ready yet to forgive him, and what he failed to
+say when he might, still rankled in her feelings.
+
+But Old Cy, that kindly soul, so like a father! Almost did she feel that
+to meet him would be worth more than to see any one else in the world.
+And to think he was still hunting for her, far and near!
+
+And now, quite unlike most young ladies, who deem their love missives
+sacred, Chip showed hers to Aunt Abby.
+
+"It's from Raymond Stetson," she said, rather bashfully, "a boy who
+was in the woods with those people who were kind to me, and we became
+very good friends."
+
+Aunt Abby smiled as she perused its contents.
+
+"And so he was the cause of your running away from Greenvale," she
+said. "Why didn't you write him a note of thanks after you learned
+he had been searching for you? I think he deserved that much, at least."
+
+"I wouldn't humble myself," Chip answered spiritedly, "and then I
+was ashamed to let any one know I had used his name. I hadn't time to
+think what name to give when Uncle Jud asked me, and his was the first
+that came to mind," she added naively.
+
+Aunt Abby laughed.
+
+"I guess Master Stetson won't find forgiveness hard to earn," she
+said, and then her face beamed at the disclosure of a romance while she
+read the letter a second time.
+
+But there was more to tell, as Aunt Abby knew full well, and now, bit by
+bit, she drew the story from Chip, even to the admission of the tender
+scenes between these two lovers, in which they promised to love each
+other and be married.
+
+"It was silly, I suppose," Chip continued blushingly, "but I didn't
+know any better then, and I was so happy that I didn't think about
+it at all. I never had a beau before, you see, and I guess I acted
+foolishly. Old Cy used to help us, too, and took us away so we could
+have a chance to hold hands and act silly. I was so lonesome, too, for
+Ray all that winter in Greenvale, and nobody knew it. I walked a mile
+to meet the stage every night for a month, to be the first to see him
+when he came. I guess he must have thought he owned me. I wouldn't
+do it now."
+
+Once more Aunt Abby laughed, a good, hearty laugh, and then, much to
+Chip's astonishment, she took her face in her hands and kissed it.
+
+"You dear little goose," she said, "and to think you ran away from
+a boy you cared for like that! I only hope he is good enough for you,
+for I can see what the outcome will be."
+
+That night when the tea-table had been cleared and the lamp lit, Aunt
+Abby once more began her adroit questioning of Chip; but this time it was
+of Old Cy, and all about him. For an hour, Chip, nothing loath, recited
+his praises, repeated his odd sayings, described his looks and ways and
+portrayed him as best she could, while Aunt Abby smiled content.
+
+"It makes me feel young again to hear your story and about Cyrus," she
+said when all was told. "I was just sixteen when he first came to see
+me. He was also my first beau, you know. I should judge he must have
+changed so I would never know him, and maybe he wouldn't recognize me.
+Forty years is a long time!" And she sighed.
+
+And now Aunt Abby closed her eyes, let fall her knitting, and lapsed into
+bygones.
+
+No longer was she a staid and matronly widow--not young, it is true, yet
+not old, but with rounded face, few wrinkles, and slightly gray hair.
+Instead was she sweet Abby Grey of the long ago, and once more the belle
+of this quiet village and Bayport, and the leader at every dance, every
+husking, and every party. Once more she primped and curled her hair,
+and donned her best, and waited her sailor boy's coming. Once more she
+heard the bells jingle and saw the stars twinkle as they sped away to a
+winter night's dance--and once more she felt the sorrow of parting, the
+long years of waiting, waiting, waiting, and at last the numb despair
+and final conviction that never would her lover return.
+
+And now he was still alive, though a wanderer, and some day he
+might--surely would come to see her, just once, if no more.
+
+"Ah, me," she said, rousing herself at last and looking at Chip's
+smiling, sunny face, "life is a queer riddle, and we never know how to
+guess it."
+
+Then she sighed again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+  "The milk o' human kindness 'most allus turns out old
+  cheese, 'n' all rind at that."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Some sneering critic once said that few young men ever start out in the
+world until they are kicked out, and there is a grain of truth in that
+assertion. It is seldom an actual kick, however, but some motive force
+quite as compelling.
+
+In Ray's case it was his uncle's assertion that if he hoped to win
+Chip he must first show the ability to provide a home for her, which is
+excellent advice for any young man to follow.
+
+"It won't be a pleasure trip," Martin said when Ray proposed to go to
+the wilderness and, with Levi and a couple of other assistants, make a
+business of gum-gathering and trap-setting, "but you can't lose much
+by it. You are welcome to the camp; Levi will see that you have game
+enough to eat, and boss the expedition. I will loan you five hundred,
+and with what you have, that is capital enough and you ought to do well.
+It would be better if Old Cy could take charge, but as it is, you must
+go it alone." And go it alone Ray did.
+
+Levi's services were easily secured. Two young fellows whom he knew
+were hired at Greenvale. A bateau was purchased, together with more traps
+and supplies, and after Ray had written Chip his plan, the party started
+for Martin's camp. They had been established there a month and were
+doing well. The first ice had begun forming in shallow coves when one
+afternoon, who should enter the lake and paddle rapidly across but Old Cy.
+
+"Ye can't git rid o' me when trappin's goin' on," he said cheerily,
+as Ray and Levi met him at the landing. "I fetched into the settlement
+kinder homesick fer the woods last week. I heard the good news 'bout
+Chip's bein' found 'n' you'd come here fer the winter, 'n' I
+didn't wait a minute 'fore I hired a canoe 'n' started." And then,
+in the exuberance of his joy, he shook hands with Ray and Levi once more.
+
+That evening, Ray, who had hard work to keep the secret so long, told
+Old Cy who lived in Peaceful Valley.
+
+It was like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky, a shock of joyful news that
+made Old Cy gasp.
+
+"Why, I feel jest like a colt once more," he said after the exclamation
+stage had passed. "An', do ye know, boys, I felt all the way comin'
+in ez though good news was waitin' fer me. I 'spose 'twas from
+hearin' Chip was all right ag'in."
+
+That evening was one that none who were in that wildwood camp ever
+forgot, for Old Cy was the central figure, and told as only he could
+the story of his year's wandering in search of Chip.
+
+It was humorous, pathetic, and tragic all in one, and a tale that held
+its listeners spellbound for three delightful hours.
+
+"I had dogs set on me, hundreds on 'em," Old Cy said, in conclusion,
+"an' I never knew afore how many kinds 'n' sizes o' dogs thar was in
+this world. I uster think thar warn't more'n two dozen or so kinds. I
+know now thar's two million 'n' a few more I didn't wait to count.
+I got 'rested a few times on account o' not havin' visible means o'
+support. I've been hauled over the coals by doctors tryin' to make me
+out a lunatic, 'n' I'd 'a' done time in jail if I hadn't had
+money to show. I tell ye, boys, this is an awful 'spicious world fer
+strangers, 'n' the milk o' human kindness is mostly old cheese,
+'n' all rind at that. I had a little fun, too, mixed in with all
+the trouble, 'n' one woman who owned a place where I 'plied for
+lodgin' jest 'bout told me she'd be willin' to marry me if I'd stay
+'n' work the farm. She had red hair, hard eyes, 'n' bossy sort o'
+ways, an' that's a dangerous combination. I watched my chance when
+she wa'n't lookin', 'n' lit out middlin' lively."
+
+And now life at this wilderness camp, less restrained than when womankind
+were here, became one of work, and persistent, steady, no-time-wasted
+work at that. Martin had said that Levi could boss matters, but it was
+Ray who assumed management instead. Two years had changed him almost
+from boy to man. His new ambition was the controlling power. He was
+here to make his mark, as it were, and the half-hearted, boyish interest
+in work had changed into a tireless leadership. Then, too, an unspoken,
+tacit interest in his ambition was felt by those who helped. They knew
+what he was striving for, and that Chip was the ultimate object. Her
+history, known as it now was to all who came into the wilderness,
+influenced these woodsmen. She had been of them and from them, and as
+an entire village will gather to help at a house-raising, so these
+three, Levi and the two helpers, now felt the same incentive.
+
+Success usually comes to all who strive for it, and now, with four
+willing workers to aid him, Ray was rapidly making a success of this
+venture. Old Cy, the most valuable assistant, was indefatigable. He
+not only kept the larder well supplied with game, but tended and set
+traps, worked in the woods with the rest between times, and his cheerful
+optimism and droll humor bridged many a stormy day and shortened many a
+weary tramp. And he seemed to grow younger in this new, helpful life
+for others. His eyes were bright, his step elastic, his spirits buoyant,
+his strength tireless.
+
+With Chip safe and provided for, with Ray succeeding in manhood's
+natural ambition, Old Cy saw his heart's best hopes nearing fruition,
+and for these two and in these two all his interest centred.
+
+Only once was the bond of feeling between Ray and Chip referred to by Old
+Cy, and then in response to a wish of Ray's that he might hear from her.
+
+"I don't think ye've cause to worry now, arter ye've sent her word
+what ye're doin' 'n' who for," he answered. "Chip's true blue, not
+one o' the fickle sort, 'n' once she keers fer a man, she won't give
+him up till he's married or dead. I think ye'd orter sent her word
+sooner,--ye know she run 'way out o' spunk,--but when ye go to her
+like a man 'n' say, 'I've been workin' 'n' waitin' fer ye all the
+time,' thar won't be no quarrellin'."
+
+"I'm not so sure about that," responded Ray, soberly. "From what
+Uncle Martin said, my chance is gone with Miss Chip, and I don't blame
+her for feeling so. Like every young fellow, I took it for granted that
+she was in love with me and ready to fall into my arms on call. Then I
+hadn't any plans in life, anyway, and, like a fool, believed it made no
+difference to her. To mix matters up still more, Hannah crowded herself
+into our affairs and said things to Chip, with the result that Chip got
+mad, ran away, and you know the rest."
+
+"Wal," asserted Old Cy, his eyes twinkling, "the time to hug a
+gal is when she's willin', 'n' ye orter spunked up that night
+'fore ye come away 'n' told her ye was callatin' to make yer fortin
+in the woods, an' that ye wanted her to wait 'n' share it--then
+hugged 'n' kissed her a little more by way o' bindin' the bargain,
+an'--knowin' that gal ez I do, she'd fought Hannah, tooth 'n' nail,
+'n' walked through fire 'n' brimstun fer ye. I think, 'stead o'
+hidin' herself fer two years, an' changin' her name, she'd 'a'
+tramped clear to Grindstun jest to tell ye her troubles, 'n', if
+need be, she'd 'a' starved fer ye. I tell ye, boy, wimmin like her is
+scarce in this world, 'n' when ye find one young 'n' pretty ez she
+is, hang on to her an' hang hard."
+
+"I know it now well enough," returned Ray, ruefully; "but that don't
+help matters. Then that fortune you found for her makes my case all the
+worse, and Chip quite independent."
+
+"It do, it do," chuckled Old Cy, as if glad of it, "an' all the more
+need o' you hustlin'. It's a case o' woodchuck with ye now. But
+don't git discouraged. Jest dig. Chip's worth it, ten times over,
+'n' no man ever worked to win a woman 'thout bein' bettered by it."
+
+It was terse and homely advice, and not only convinced Ray that he had
+neglected one whom he now felt meant home, wife, happiness, and all that
+life might mean for him, but made him realize that all possible striving
+and self-denial must be made in atonement. With whom and what sort of
+people Chip had found asylum, he knew not. What influence they would
+have upon her feelings was an equally unknown matter; and worse than
+that, the ogre of another suitor for Chip's favor now entered Ray's
+calculations, and the slang truism, "There are others," was with him
+every waking moment--a much-deserved punishment, all womankind will say.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+One day while Aunt Abby and Chip were enjoying the newly furnished home
+of Uncle Jud, a capacious carriage drawn by a handsome pair of horses
+halted there and Martin and Angie alighted.
+
+"We are taking a cross-country drive for an outing," he explained,
+after Angie had kissed Chip tenderly and greetings had been exchanged.
+"We have waited for you, Miss Runaway, to come and visit us," he added,
+turning to Chip, "until we couldn't wait any longer and so came to look
+for you. We have also some news that may interest you. Old Cy has been
+heard from at last. He spent a year looking for you. He has now gone
+into the woods, to my camp, where Ray located for the winter, and when
+spring comes, I can guess where they will head for."
+
+How welcome this news was to Chip, her face fully indicated; but neither
+Martin nor Angie realized how much or for what reason it interested
+this soft-voiced, gracious lady whom Chip called Aunt Abby. They knew
+Uncle Jud was Old Cy's brother and that they had once been sailors
+from Bayport, but the long-ago romance of Aunt Abby's life was unknown
+to them.
+
+And now ensued a welcome to the callers such as only Uncle Jud and Aunt
+Mandy could offer.
+
+"We sorter feel we robbed ye o' Vera," Uncle Jud explained, "though
+'twa'n't any intention on our part, an' so ye must gin us some chance
+to make amends. We callate 'twa'n't no fault of yourn, either, only
+one o' them happenin's that was luck for us."
+
+That evening was one long to be remembered by all who were present,
+for Chip's history, as told by Martin and Angie, was the entertaining
+topic, and its humorous side was made the most of by Martin. Chip was
+in no wise annoyed by Martin's fun-making, either. Instead, conscious of
+the good-will and affection of the friends who had rescued her from
+the wilderness, she rather enjoyed it and laughed heartily at Martin's
+description of various incidents, especially her first appearance in
+their camp, and the language she used.
+
+"I couldn't help swearing," she explained. "I never had heard much
+except 'cuss' words. I think also now, as I recall my life at Tim's
+Place, I would never have dared that desperate mode of escape had I not
+been hardened by such a life. I wish I could see Old Tomah once more,"
+she added musingly, "and I'd like to send him some gift. He was the
+best-hearted Indian I ever saw or heard of, and his queer teachings
+about spites and how they rewarded us for good deeds and punished us
+for evil ones was no harm, for it set me thinking. The one thought that
+encouraged me most during those awful days and nights alone in the woods
+was the belief that among the spites which I was sure followed me was
+my mother's soul. I've never changed in my belief, either, and shall
+always feel that she guided me to your camp."
+
+Uncle Jud also obtained his share of fun at Chip's expense, describing
+his finding of her with humorous additions.
+
+"She was all beat out that night I found her on top o' Bangall Hill,
+'n' yet when I asked her if she'd run away from some poor farm, she
+was ready to claw my eyes out, an' dunno's I blame her. I was innocent,
+too, fer I really s'posed she had."
+
+Martin's visit at this hospitable home was not allowed to terminate for
+a week, for visitors seldom came here, and Uncle Jud, as big a boy as
+his brother when the chance came, planned all sorts of trips and outings
+to entertain them, and quite characteristic affairs they were, too.
+
+One day they drove to a wood-bordered pond far up the valley, fished a
+few hours for pickerel and perch, and had a fish fry and picnic dinner.
+
+The next day they visited a strange, romantic grotto up in the mountains,
+known as the Wolf's Den, and here a table was set, broiled chicken,
+sweet corn, and such toothsome fare formed the meal, with nut-gathering
+for amusement.
+
+Squirrel and partridge shooting also furnished Martin a little
+excitement. When he and Angie insisted that they must leave, both
+host and hostess showed genuine regret. A few remarks made by Angie to
+her former protegee, in private, the last evening of this visit, may
+be quoted.
+
+"I must insist, my dear child," she said, "that you make us a visit
+in the near future. You left us under an entirely false impression and it
+has grieved me more than you can imagine. There was never a word of
+truth in anything that Hannah said. She was spiteful and malicious
+and desired to get even with you for a hurt to her pride. We had no
+thought of hurrying away to the woods to separate you and Ray for any
+reason whatever. Of course, as you must know, I had no suspicion of any
+attachment between you, and if I had, I certainly should not have tried
+to break it off in that way. That is a matter that concerns only you and
+him. My own life experience shows that first love is the wisest and
+best, and while you were both too young then for an engagement, you must
+believe me when I tell you that I had no wish to interfere."
+
+And so the breach was healed.
+
+This visit of the Frisbies to Peaceful Valley also awakened something
+of repentance in Chip's mind, and more mature now, it occurred to her
+that leaving Greenvale as she did, was, after all, childish.
+
+Then Angie's part in this drama of her life now returned to Chip in a
+new light. Once she began to reflect, her self-accusation grew apace and
+her repentance as well. Now she began to see herself as she was at Tim's
+Place.
+
+"I think I treated my Greenvale friends very ungratefully," she said
+to Aunt Abby one evening after they had returned to Christmas Cove once
+more, "and what Mrs. Frisbie said to me has made me realize it. I know
+now that few would have done what she did for me. I was an ignorant,
+dirty, homeless creature and no relation of hers, and yet she took charge
+of me, bought me clothes, paid all my expenses going to Greenvale,
+clothed me there, and always treated me nicely without my even asking
+for it.
+
+"The Frisbies certainly ran some risk by keeping me at their cabin when
+they knew that half-breed was after me. I don't know why they should
+have done all this. I was nothing to them. And yet when I recall the
+night I stumbled into their camp, how Mrs. Frisbie dressed me in her own
+clothes, shared her tent with me, and even prayed for me, I feel ashamed
+to think of what I have done. I did think that Mrs. Frisbie despised me
+from what Hannah said. I know now that I was wrong, and running away
+as I did, was very ungrateful."
+
+"I think it was, myself," responded Aunt Abby, "and yet believing
+as you did, Mrs. Frisbie ought not to blame you. I don't think she
+does, either. She seems a very sensible woman, and I like her. You made
+your mistake in not confiding in her more. You should have gone to her
+as you would to a mother, in the first place, and told her just what
+Hannah had said to you and how you felt about it. To brood over such
+matters and imagine the worst possible, is unwise in any one. I think
+from what you have told me, that this person who sneered against you so
+much must have had a spite against you."
+
+"Hannah was jealous, I know," Chip interrupted, smiling at the
+recollection, "and I hurt her feelings because I asked her why she
+didn't shave."
+
+"Didn't shave!" exclaimed Aunt Abby, wide-eyed, "what do you mean?"
+
+"Why, she has whiskers, you see," laughed Chip, "almost as much
+as some men--a nice little mustache and some on her chin. I told her
+the next day after I got there I thought she was a man dressed as a
+woman. I snickered, too, I remember, when I said it, for she looked so
+comical--like a goat, almost--and then I asked her why she didn't
+shave. I guess she laid it up against me ever after."
+
+"She revenged herself amply, it seems," answered Aunt Abby.
+
+When Christmas neared, and with it a vacation for Chip, new impulses
+came to her: a desire to visit Greenvale once more and make amends as
+best she could to her friends there; and her gift-giving desire was
+quickened by the coming holidays. She now felt that she had ample means
+to gratify this latter wish. Day by day, since meeting Angie again,
+her sense of obligation had increased, and now it was in her power at
+Christmas-tide to repay at least a little of the debt.
+
+Others were also included in this generous project: Uncle Jud, Aunt
+Mandy, her foster-mother, Aunt Abby, as well; and then there was Old Cy,
+whom most of all she now desired to make glad. That was impossible,
+however. He was still an absent wanderer, and so, as it ever is and
+ever will be, some thread of regret, some note of sorrow, must be woven
+into all joys.
+
+A rapid and almost wonderful growth of this yule-tide impulse now swept
+over Chip, so much so that it must be told. At first it took shape in
+the intended purchase of comparative trifles,--a fishing-rod for Uncle
+Jud, a pipe for Martin, gloves for Aunt Abby, and so on. Then as that
+seemingly vast fortune, now hers to spend, occurred to Chip, and her
+sense of obligation as well, the intended gifts increased in proportion
+until a costly picture of some camp or wildwood scene for Angie and a
+valuable watch for Miss Phinney were decided upon.
+
+Her plans as to how to obtain these presents also took shape. Riverton
+was the only place where they could be obtained. To that village she
+would go first, obtain the money needed, devote one entire day to making
+her purchases, and then go on to Greenvale and astonish these good
+friends from whom she was once so eager to escape.
+
+It was all a most delightful episode which was now anticipated by Chip.
+Again and again she lived it over, especially her arrival in Greenvale,
+and how like a Lady Bountiful she would present her gifts to her friends.
+
+So eager was she thus to make some compensation to them that lessons
+became irksome, the day seemed weeks in length, and she could scarce
+sleep when bedtime came.
+
+But the slow days dragged by at last, and then Chip, happier than ever
+before in her life, dressed in her best, bade Aunt Abby good-bye and
+started on her journey alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+  "A man braggin' gits riled if ye try 'n' choke him off."
+  --Old Cy Walker.
+
+Riverton, less provincial than Greenvale, was a village of some two
+thousand inhabitants. A few brick blocks, with less pretentious
+wooden buildings, formed a nucleus of stores. A brownstone bank,
+four churches, two hotels, the Quaboag House and the Astor House were
+intermingled among these, and a railroad with two trains in each
+direction a day added life and interest to the place. Each of the hotels
+sent a conveyance to meet every train, with a loud-voiced emissary to
+announce the fact of free transportation. In each hostelry a bar
+flourished, and like rival clubs, each had its afternoon and evening
+gathering of loafers who swapped yarns and gossip, smoked and chewed
+incessantly, and contributed little else to support the establishments.
+Three times daily, at meal hours, each of the rival landlords banged a
+discordant gong in his front doorway, without apparent result.
+
+At about eleven in the forenoon each weekday in summer, Uncle Joe Barnes
+on his lumbering two-horse stage, arrived from Greenvale, paused at
+the post-office, threw off a mail-pouch, thence around to the Quaboag
+House stable, and cared for his horses. At two he was ready for the
+return trip and mounting his lofty seat, he again drove to the front
+of the hotel, shouting "All aboard!" dismounted to assist lady
+passengers, but let masculine ones do their own climbing, and after
+halting to receive a mail-bag, again departed on his return trip.
+
+A certain monotonous regularity was apparent in every move and every act
+and function of village life in Riverton. At precisely seven o'clock
+each morning the two landlords appeared simultaneously and banged their
+gongs. At twelve and six, this was repeated. At eight o'clock the three
+principal storekeepers usually entered their places of business; at
+nine, and while the academy bell was ringing near by, every village
+doctor might be seen starting out. At ten exactly, Dwight Bennett,
+the cashier of the bank, unlocked its front door, and the two hotel
+'buses invariably started so nearly together that they met at the
+first turn going stationward. Even the four church clocks had the same
+habit, and it was often related that a stranger there, a travelling man,
+on his first, visit, made an amusing discovery.
+
+"What kind of a fool clock have you got in this town?" he said to Sam
+Gates, the landlord of the Quaboag, next morning after his arrival. "I
+went to bed in good season last night an' just got asleep when I heard
+it strike thirty-two. I dozed off an' the next I knew it began clanging
+again, and I counted forty-four. What sort of time do you keep here,
+anyway? Do you run your town by the multiplication table?"
+
+The half-dozen chronic loafers who met every afternoon in the Quaboag
+House office arrived in about the same order, smoked, drank, told their
+yarns, gathered all the gossip, and departed at nearly the same moment.
+Their evening visits partook of the same clocklike regularity.
+
+These of the old guard were also dressed much the same, and "slouchy"
+best describes it. Gray flannel shirts in winter or summer alike.
+Collars, cuffs, and ties were never seen on them, though patches were,
+and as for shaving or hair-cutting, a few shaved once a week, some
+never did, and semi-annual hair-cuts were a fair average.
+
+The worst sinner in this respect, Luke Atwater, occasionally called
+"Lazy Luke," never had his beard shortened but once, and that was
+due to its being burnt off while he was fighting a brush fire in spring.
+
+It was related of him, and believed by many, that once upon a time many
+years previous he had had his hair cut, and on that occasion the barber
+had found a whetstone concealed in Luke's shock of tangled hair. It was
+also asserted that he admitted always carrying his whetstone back of his
+ear while mowing, and so losing it that way.
+
+All the news and every happening in Riverton, from the catching of an
+extra big trout to twins, was duly commented upon and discussed by this
+coterie. Village politics, how much money each storekeeper was making,
+crop prospects, the run of sap every spring, drouth, weather indications,
+rain or snow falls, each and all formed rotating subjects upon which
+every one of this faithful-to-the-post clique expressed opinions.
+
+Chip's arrival there with the Frisbie family, and her later history,
+learned from Uncle Joe, furnished a fertile topic, her escapade in
+running away from Greenvale a more exciting one, while Old Cy's
+visit and deposit of a fabulous sum in the bank in her name had been a
+nine days' wonder. That amount, hinted at only by the cashier as a
+comfortable fortune, soon grew in size until it was generally believed
+to be almost a million.
+
+This was Riverton and its decidedly rural status when late one December
+afternoon the Quaboag free 'bus (a two-seated pung, this time) swept
+up to that hotel's front door, where the porter assisted a stylish young
+lady to alight, and he, stepping like a drum major, led the way into the
+Quaboag's unwarmed parlor.
+
+"Young lady, sir, a stunner, wants room over night, sir," he announced
+to the landlord in the office a moment later. "Goin' to Greenvale
+to-morrer, she says."
+
+On the instant all converse in the office ceased, and the six constant
+callers hardly breathed until Sam Gates hastened to the parlor and
+returned.
+
+"It's that McGuire gal--lady, I mean," he asserted pompously; then to
+the porter, "Git a move on, Jim, 'n' start a fire in Number 6, an'
+quick, too!" And hastily brushing his untidy hair before the office
+mirror, he left the room again, followed by six envious glances. Then
+those astonished loafers grouped themselves, the better to observe the
+passage between parlor and office.
+
+Only one instant sight of this important guest was obtained by them as
+Chip emerged from the parlor and followed the landlord upstairs, and then
+the hushed spell was broken.
+
+"By gosh, it's her!" exclaimed one in an awed whisper, "an' Jim was
+right, she's a stunner!"
+
+"I 'member jest how she looked that fust day she came," asserted
+another. "Saw her legs, too, when she shinned up top o' the stage."
+
+"Ye won't git 'nother chance, I'll bet!" declared a third.
+
+"What do ye s'pose she's here for," queried a fourth, "to draw the
+int'rest on her money, or what?"
+
+It was precisely four-forty-five when Chip appeared before this judge and
+jury of all Riverton's happenings. At five-forty-five they had agreed
+that she was the handsomest young lady who had ever set foot in the
+town, that she must be going to get married soon, and that her mission
+there was to draw out a few thousand dollars for wedding finery. Then
+they dispersed, and at six-forty-five, when they assembled at the Quaboag
+again, half of Riverton knew their conclusions, and by bedtime all knew
+them.
+
+By eight-thirty next morning, this all-observant and all-wise clique
+had gathered in the hotel office once more, an unusual proceeding, and
+when Chip tripped out, eight pairs of eyes watched her depart. Then they
+dispersed.
+
+At nine o'clock Chip walked up the stone steps to the bank door, read
+the legend, "Open from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m.," turned away, and once
+more resumed her leisurely stroll up and down the street while she peered
+into store windows. At ten precisely by the four church clocks she was
+back at the bank again, and the cashier lost count of the column he
+was adding when he saw her enter.
+
+"I would like three hundred dollars, if you please, sir," she said,
+presenting her little book, and he had to count it over four times,
+to make sure the amount was right. Then he passed the thick bundle of
+currency out under his latticed window, seeing only the two wide-open,
+fathomless eyes and dimpled face that had watched him, and feeling, as
+he afterward admitted, like fifty cents.
+
+And now ensued an experience the like of which poor Chip had never
+even dreamed,--the supreme joy of spending money without stint for
+those near and dear to her. And what a medley of gifts she bought!
+Two silk dress patterns, two warm wraps, three winter hats, a gold
+watch for Miss Phinney, an easy-chair, two of the finest pipes she
+could find, a trout rod, four pairs of gloves, and finally a gun for
+Nezer. Then as her roll of money grew less, she began to pick up smaller
+articles,--handkerchiefs, slippers, and the like.
+
+"Send them to the hotel, please," she said to one and all of whom she
+purchased articles of any size, "marked for Vera McGuire."
+
+That was enough!
+
+Riverton had sensations, mild ones, of course. Now and then a fire had
+occurred, once an elopement. Occasionally a horse ran away, causing
+damage to some one. But nothing had occurred to compare with the arrival
+of a supposed fabulously rich young lady who came without escort, who
+walked into and out of stores like a young goddess, noticing no one,
+and who spent money as if it were autumn leaves.
+
+A few of the Quaboag retinue followed her about in a not-to-be-observed
+manner. Women by the dozen hastily donned outdoor raiment, and visited
+stores, just to observe her. They crossed and recrossed the street to
+meet her, and a battery of curious eyes was focussed on her for two hours.
+
+When she returned to the hotel, the old guard, recruited by every idle
+man in town, filled the office, awaiting her. Uncle Joe, who had heard of
+her arrival the moment he came, was among them, recounting her history
+once more, and when she neared the hotel, he emerged to meet her.
+
+"Why, bless yer eyes, Chip," he said, extending a calloused hand, "but
+I'm powerful glad to see ye once more. Whatever made ye run away the way
+ye did, 'n' what be ye doin' here? Buyin' out the hull town? I've
+got the pung filled wi' bundles a'ready wi' yer name on 'em."
+
+He beaued her into the parlor, like the ancient gallant he was. He
+washed, brushed his hair and clothing, and awaited her readiness to dine,
+without holding further converse with the curious crowd. He ushered
+her into the dining room and made bold to sit and eat with her unasked,
+and when he assisted her to the front seat in his long box sleigh,
+crowded with her purchases, and drove away, he was envied by two dozen
+observers.
+
+"Why didn't ye send us word o' yer comin'," he said as they left
+Riverton, "so I cud 'a' spruced up some an' come down with a better
+rig, bells on the hosses and new buffler robes?"
+
+"There was no need of that," answered Chip, pleased, as well she might
+be. "I am just the same girl that I always was, only happier now that
+I have more friends. How is dear old Aunt Comfort, and every one in
+Greenvale? I am anticipating seeing them so much."
+
+And never during all the twenty years in which Uncle Joe had journeyed
+twice each day over this road had the way seemed shorter, or had he been
+blessed with a more interesting companion.
+
+The only regret Chip had, was that she had forgotten to buy Uncle Joe a
+present. She made up for it later, however.
+
+At Greenvale, Chip met almost an ovation. Aunt Comfort kissed her and
+cried over her. Nezer ran for Angie, who soon appeared on the scene,
+and Hannah was so "flustered" she was unable to speak after the first
+greeting. Martin, who had heard of Chip's arrival from Uncle Joe,
+hastened to Aunt Comfort's, and had Chip been a real "millionnairess"
+or some titled lady, she could not have awakened more interest or
+received half so cordial a welcome.
+
+Hannah was the one who felt the most embarrassed, however, and guilty as
+well. For half an hour, while Chip was the centre of interest, she could
+only stare at her in dumb amazement. Then she stole out of the room, and
+later Chip found her in the kitchen, shedding copious tears.
+
+"I'm a miserable sinner 'n' the Lord'll never forgive me," she
+half moaned, when Chip tried to console her. "An' to think ye feel the
+way ye say, 'n' to bring me a present, arter all the mean things I
+said. It's a-heapin' coals o' fire on my head, that it is." And the
+shower increased.
+
+"I have forgotten all about them, Hannah, truly I have," Chip assured
+her, "and I wish you would. You didn't understand me then, perhaps,
+or I you, so let us be friends now."
+
+The next afternoon Chip, who had learned that Miss Phinney's school was
+to close the day following, set out to call on her in time to arrive at
+its adjournment.
+
+No hint of her return had reached Miss Phinney, no letters had been
+exchanged, and not since that tearful separation had they met.
+
+And now as Chip followed the lonely by-road so often traversed by her,
+what a flood of bitter-sweet memories returned,--each bend, each tree,
+each rock, and the bridge over the Mizzy held a different recollection.
+Here at this turn she had first met Ray, after her resolve to leave
+Greenvale. At the next landmark, a lane crossing the meadows, she had
+always parted from her teacher, the last time in tears. And how long,
+long ago it all seemed!
+
+Then beyond, and barely visible, was the dear old schoolhouse. She
+could see it now, half hid in the bushes, a lone and lowly little brown
+building outlined on the winter landscape and apparently dwarfed in
+size. Once it had awed her; now it seemed pathetic.
+
+The last of its pupils were vanishing as Chip drew near, and inside, and
+as lonely as that lone temple, Miss Phinney still lingered.
+
+That day had not gone well with her. A note of complaint had come
+from one parent that morning, and news that a dearly loved scholar was
+ill as well, and Miss Phinney's own life seemed like the fields just
+now--cold, desolate, and snow-covered.
+
+And then while she, thus lone and lonesome, was putting away books,
+slates, ink-bottles, and all the badges of her servitude, Chip, without
+knocking, walked in.
+
+How they first exclaimed, then embraced, then kissed, and then repeated
+it while each tried to wink the tears away, and failed; how they sat
+hand in hand in that dingy, smoke-browned room with its knife-hacked
+benches, unconscious of the chill, while Chip told her story; and how,
+just as the last rays of the setting sun flashed from the icicles along
+its eaves, they left it, still hand in hand, was but an episode such as
+many a schoolgirl can recall.
+
+Of the few friends Greenvale held for Chip, none seemed quite so near
+and dear as Miss Phinney, and none lived longer in her memory. They had
+been for many months not teacher and pupil, but rather two sisters,
+confiding, patient, and tender. Life swept them apart. They might never
+meet again, and yet, so long as both lived, never would those school
+days be forgotten.
+
+With Sunday came Chip's most gratifying experience, perhaps, for her
+arrival was now known by the entire village and the fact that she was
+an heiress as well. Her fortune (also known) was considered almost
+fabulous according to Greenvale standards, and when Chip with Angie
+entered the church porch, it was crowded with people waiting to receive
+them. Chip, of course, now well clad and well poised, was once more the
+cynosure of all eyes except when the pastor prayed. At the close of
+service a score, most of whom she knew by sight only, waited to greet
+her and shake hands with her in the porch. The parson hurried down the
+aisle to add his smile and hand clasp, and, all in all, it was a most
+gratifying reception.
+
+And here and now, let no carping critic say it was all due to that bank
+account, but rather a country town's expression of respect and good-will
+toward one whom they felt deserved it.
+
+That it all pleased Angie, goes without saying. That Chip well deserved
+this vindication, no one will question; and when her visit ended and she
+departed, no one, not even Miss Phinney, missed her more than Angie.
+
+Only one thread of regret wove itself into Chip's feelings as she
+rode away with Uncle Joe, whose horses were now decked properly for
+this important event. She had received a most cordial reception on
+all sides--almost a triumph of good-will. Her gifts had brought an
+oft-repeated chorus of thanks and a few tears. On all sides and among all
+she had been welcome, even receiving a call and words of praise from
+Parson Jones. She was a _nobody_ no longer; instead, a _somebody_
+whom all delighted to honor and commend.
+
+But the one whose motherly pride would have been most gratified, she for
+whom Chip's heart yearned for oftenest, would never know it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+With the birds and flowers once more returning to Christmas Cove, came
+outdoor freedom for Chip again. Like the wood-nymph she was in character
+and taste, the wild, rock-bound coast outside and the low, wooded
+mountain enclosing this village were her playgrounds where she found
+companionship. Other associates she cared but little for, and a few
+hours alone on a wave-washed shore, watching the wild ocean billows
+tossing spray aloft, or a long ramble in a deep, silent forest, appealed
+to her far more than parties and girlish enjoyments.
+
+The wood-bordered road, leading from the village to the railroad ten
+miles away, was now a favorite walk of hers. It was suited to her in
+many ways, for it was seldom travelled; it followed the sunny side of
+the low mountain range back of Christmas Cove, not a house stood along
+its entire way, and to add charm, a brook kept it company, crossing
+and recrossing it for two miles. That feature was the most especial
+attraction, for beds of watercress waved beneath the limpid waters in
+deep pools, bunches of flag grew along its banks, their blue flowers
+bending to kiss the current; its ripples danced in the sunlight; its
+music was a tinkling melody, and these simple attractions appealed to
+Chip.
+
+There was also another reason for now choosing this byway walk. She knew,
+or felt sure, that Ray would visit Christmas Cove on his return from
+the woods. He must come in the old carryall,--about the only vehicle
+ever journeying along this road,--and now, like a brownie of the forest,
+she watched until she spied it afar and then hid in the bushes and
+peeped out until it passed each day.
+
+A curious and somewhat complex feeling toward this young man had also
+come to her. At first, like a child, she had loved him unasked. She had
+known no different. He had seemed like a young god to her, and to
+cling to him was supreme happiness. Then had come an awakening, a
+consciousness that this freedom was not right and must be checked.
+Following that also--a bitter lesson--it had come to her that she
+was a kind of outcast, a child of shame, as it were, whose origin
+was despicable, and who was dependent upon the charity of others.
+This awakening, this new consciousness, was like a black chasm in
+front of her, a horror and shame combined, and true to her nature, she
+fled from it like one pursued.
+
+But two years had changed her views of humanity. She had learned that
+money and social position did not always win friends and respect. That
+birth and ancestry were of less consideration than a pure mind and honest
+intentions, and that fine raiment sometimes covered a base heart and vile
+nature.
+
+Toward this boyish lover, also, her feelings had been altered. A little
+of the old-time fondness remained, however. She could not put that
+away. She had tried and tried earnestly, yet the wildwood illusion still
+lingered. She had meant, also, to put him and herself quite apart--so
+far, and in such a way, that she would never be found by him. That had
+failed, however; he knew where she was. He had said that he was coming
+here. Most likely he would expect to renew the old tender relations;
+but in that he would be disappointed. She was sure she would be glad
+to see him for old times' sake, however. She would be gracious and
+dignified, as Aunt Abby was. She wanted to hear all about the woods and
+Old Cy again, but caresses must be forbidden. More than that, every
+time she recalled how freely she had permitted them once, she blushed
+and felt that it would be an effort to look him in the face again.
+
+But she was anxious to see how he would appear now: whether the same boy,
+with frank, open face, or a commanding, self-possessed man.
+
+And so each pleasant afternoon she strolled up this byway road. When the
+ancient carryall was sighted, she hid and watched until it passed.
+
+But Captain Mix, its driver, also had observing eyes. He knew her now as
+far as he could see her, as every one in the village did, and he soon
+noticed her unusual conduct. He also watched along the wayside where she
+left it, and slyly observed her peeping out from some thicket. Just why
+this odd proceeding happened time and again, he could not guess, and not
+until a strange young man alighted from the train one day and asked to
+be left at the home of Mrs. Abby Bemis, did it dawn on him.
+
+Then he laughed. "Friend o' Aunt Abby, I 'spose?" he inquired in his
+Yankee fashion, after they had started.
+
+"No," answered Ray, frankly, "I have never seen the lady. I know some
+one who is living with her, however. A Miss Mc--Raymond, I mean."
+
+Captain Mix glanced at him, his eyes twinkling. "So ye're 'quainted
+with Vera, be ye," he responded. "Wal, ye're lucky." Then as
+curiosity grew he added, "Known her quite a spell, hev ye?"
+
+But Ray was discreet. "Oh, three or four years," he answered
+nonchalantly. "I knew her when she lived in Greenvale." Then to
+check the stage-driver's curiosity, he added, "She was only a little
+girl, then. I presume she has changed since."
+
+"She's a purty good-lookin' gal now," asserted Captain Mix, "but
+middlin' odd in her ways. Not much on gallivantin' round wi' young
+folks, but goin' to school stiddy 'n' roamin' round the woods when
+she ain't. Purty big gal to be goin' to school she is. I callate her
+arly eddication must 'a' been sorter neglected. Mebbe ye know 'bout
+it," and once more this persistent Yankee glanced at his companion.
+
+But Ray was too loyal to the little girl he loved to discuss her further,
+and made no answer. Instead, he began inquiries about Christmas Cove, and
+as they jogged on mile after mile, he learned all that was to be known
+of that quiet village. When they had reached a point some three miles
+from it, a kindly thought came to the driver.
+
+"If Vera ain't 'spectin' ye," he said, "mebbe ye'd like to
+s'prise her. If so be it, ye kin. She's 'most allus out this way
+'n', curislike, hides 'fore I get 'long whar she is. If I see her
+to-day, 'n' ye want to, I'll drop ye clus by 'n' let ye."
+
+And so it came to pass.
+
+Chip, as usual, had followed her oft-taken walk on this pleasant May
+afternoon. When the carryall was sighted also, as usual, she had hidden
+herself. With beating heart she saw two occupants this time, and looking
+out of her laurel screen, she saw that one was Ray.
+
+Then she crouched lower. The moment she had waited for had come.
+
+But now something unexpected happened, for after the carryall passed her
+hiding spot, Ray, brown and stalwart, leaped out. The carryall drove on,
+and she saw him returning and scanning the bushes.
+
+She was caught, fairly and squarely. One instant she hesitated, then,
+blushing rose-red, emerged from the undergrowth.
+
+And now came another capture, for with a "Chip, my darling," Ray sprang
+forward, and although she turned away, the next moment she was clasped
+in his arms.
+
+In vain she struggled. In vain she writhed and twisted. In vain she
+pushed him away and then covered her blushing face.
+
+Love, fierce and eager, could not be thus opposed. All her pride, anger,
+resentment, shame, and intended coldness were as so many straws, for
+despite her struggles, he pulled her hands aside and kissed her again and
+again.
+
+"My darling," he exclaimed at last, "say you forgive me; say you love
+me; say it now!"
+
+Then, as she drew away, he saw her eyes were brimming with tears.
+
+"I won't," she said, "I hate--" but his lips cut the sentence in
+two, and it was never finished.
+
+"I did mean to hate you," she declared once more, covering her face,
+"but I--I can't."
+
+"No, you can't," he asserted eagerly, "for I won't let you. You
+promised to love me once, and now you've got to, for life."
+
+And she did.
+
+When the outburst of emotion had subsided and they strolled homeward,
+Chip glanced shyly up at her lover.
+
+"Why did you pounce on me so?" she queried; "why didn't you ask me,
+first?"
+
+"My dear," he answered, "a wise man kisses the girl first, and asks
+her afterwards." Then he repeated the offence.
+
+[Illustration: "I did mean to hate you, but I--I can't."]
+
+And now what a charming summer of sweet illusion and castle-building
+followed for the lovers! How Aunt Abby smiled benignly upon them, quite
+content to accord ample chance for wooing! How many blissful, dreamy
+hours they passed on lonely wave-washed cliffs, while the marvel of
+love was discussed! How its wondrous magic opened a new world whose walks
+were flower-decked, whose sky was ever serene, where lilies bloomed,
+birds sang, sea winds whispered of time and eternity, and where Chip was
+an adored queen! How all the shame and humiliation of her past life
+faded away and joy supreme entered on the azure and golden wings of this
+new morning! Even Old Cy was almost forgotten; the spites, Old Tomah,
+and Tim's Place quite so; and all hope, all joy, all protection, and all
+her future centred in the will and wishes of this Prince Perfect.
+
+"Blind and foolish," I hear some fair critic say. Yes, more than that,
+almost idiotic; for selfish man never pursues unless forced to do so,
+and an object of worship once possessed, is but a summer flower.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+
+  "A man'll hev all the friends he kin keer for if he tends to
+  his own knittin' work."--Old Cy Walker.
+
+Quite different from the meeting of the lovers was that which occurred
+when Old Cy reached Peaceful Valley. There were no heroics, no falling
+upon one another's necks, no tears. Just a "Hullo, Cyrus!" "Hullo,
+Judson!" as these two brothers clasped hands, and forty years were
+bridged.
+
+Aunt Mandy, however, showed more emotion, for when Old Cy rather
+awkwardly stooped to kiss her, the long ago of Sister Abby's sorrow
+welled up in her heart, and the tears came.
+
+That evening's reunion, with its two life histories to be exchanged, did
+not close until the tall clock had ticked time into the wee, small hours.
+
+All of Old Cy's almost marvellous adventures had to be told by him,
+and not the least interesting were the last few years at the wilderness
+home of the hermit. Chip's entry into it and her history formed another
+chapter fully as thrilling, with Uncle Jud's rescue of her for a
+_denouement_.
+
+The most pathetic feature of this intermingled history--the years while
+sweet Abby Grey waited and watched for her lover--was left untold. Only
+once was it referred to by Aunt Mandy, in an indirect way; but the quick
+lowering of Old Cy's eyes and the shadow that overspread his face,
+checked her at once. Almost intuitively she realized its unwisdom, and
+that it was a sorrow best not referred to.
+
+Old Cy evidently felt it a subject to avoid, and not until the next
+day did he even ask how Aunt Abby looked or what had been her life
+experiences. A little of this reticence wore away in due time, however,
+and then Aunt Mandy once more referred to her sister.
+
+"I kinder feel you blame Abby somehow, Cyrus, the way you act," she
+said, "and yet thar ain't no cause for it. She'd waited 'most seven
+years. We'd all given you up for dead, and life in Christmas Cove
+wa'n't promisin' much for Abby."
+
+"I don't blame her a mite," Old Cy answered quickly, "an' no need
+o' yer thinkin' so. I don't blame no woman fer makin' the best shift
+they kin. They've got to hev a home 'n' pertecter, bless 'em, or
+be nobody in this world. Comin' here and findin' how things are, sorter
+makes me realize how much I've missed in life, though, an' how much
+sorrer I've had to outgrow. I don't lay up nothin' 'gainst Abby, not
+fer a minit. Only I hated to hev ye tell me what I knew ye'd hev to,
+that fust night."
+
+"But you're goin' to see her, ain't ye, Cyrus?" Aunt Mandy asked
+anxiously. "Ye won't shame her by not goin', will ye?"
+
+"Wal, mebbe," he answered slowly, and after a long pause. "I wouldn't
+want to hurt her knowin'ly. I callate I've done more grievin'n she
+has, though, ten times over, an' seein' her now's a good deal like
+openin' an old tomb--a sorter invitin' ghosts o' old heartaches to
+step out. Abby's outgrowed the old times, 'n' I'm sartin, too,
+won't be the happier by seein' me ag'in. I may be wrong, but I've a
+notion she'll sorter hate to see me. 'Twas to keep her from feelin'
+'shamed 'n' miserable 'n' spoilin' her life, I've never let
+her nor nobody that knew her find out I was alive. I'm doubtin' I
+would now if she hadn't larned it from Chip."
+
+He relented a little from this strange and almost cruel whim a week
+later, and after visiting the Riggsville store and obtaining what really
+amounted to a disguise in new garments, he announced his plans.
+
+"I've got to see Chip," he said, "an' see how she 'n' Ray's
+gittin' on. I've got to see Abby, I s'pose. I want to, an' I don't
+want to, both in one. Then ag'in, these two young folks--Chip 'n'
+the boy--hev sorter got tangled up in my feelin's, 'n' I can't rest
+content till I've seen 'em settled in life. I'm goin' to Christmas
+Cove fer a day. Then back here till they hitch up, 'n' then--wal,
+then mebbe I'd better go to the woods ag'in. I ain't fitted by natur
+fer dressed-up folks."
+
+No opposition to this unseemly outcome was made by Uncle Jud or Aunt
+Mandy. They knew, or hoped, the leaven of bygone memories and association
+would change the hermit-like impulse of Old Cy, and all in good time a
+better ending of his life would seem possible to him. To argue it now
+was apparently useless. A man so set in his ideas as to remain a homeless
+wanderer for almost a lifetime, was not to be changed in a month, or
+perhaps in a year.
+
+Neither did Old Cy seem in a hurry to visit Christmas Cove.
+
+"I don't look nat'ral or feel nat'ral in them new clothes," he said
+to Aunt Mandy one day, "an' while I want to see Abby, I've lived in
+the woods so long I'm sorter 'shamed to go 'mongst respectable people.
+Then I look like one o' them wooden men dressed up in a store winder
+with that new rig on, an' jest know folks'll all be laughin' at me.
+I've got to go, I callate, but I'd like to make the trip in a cage.
+I'm sartin sure Abby'll laugh at me arterwards." From which it may be
+seen how hard it was for Old Cy to fit himself into civilized life
+once more.
+
+He nerved himself for the trip to Christmas Cove in a few days, however,
+and how he met and renewed acquaintance with his old-time sweetheart
+shall be told in his own words.
+
+"Abby hain't changed near so much as I callated," he said on his
+return; "a leetle fuller in figger, but jest the same easy-spoken, sweet
+sorter woman I always knew she'd be. She was 'lone when I called,
+an' fer a minit arter we shook hands neither on us could speak ag'in.
+Then she kinder bit her lip 'n' swallered her feelin's, keepin'
+her face turned away, an' then we sot down 'n' begun talkin'. It
+was techin', too, the way she acted, fer she kept tryin' to smile,
+'n' all the while the tears kept startin'. It was like one o' them
+summer days when the rain patters while the sun is shinin'. I don't
+think she noticed my clothes much, either, an' we sot up till 'most
+midnight talkin' over old times. It all turned out 'bout the way I
+'spected--a sorter funeral o' old hopes with us two fer mourners.
+She's powerful considerate, too, Abby is, for all the time we was
+talkin' she never once spoke o' Cap'n Bemis, 'n' I didn't. It
+was jest ez if we started in whar we left off, 'n' skippin' the gap
+between. She 'lowed she hoped she'd see me soon ag'in, that she felt
+like a mother to Chip; an' when I bid her good-bye, she kinder choked
+once more.
+
+"I didn't see much o' Chip, either, which sorter hurt me. Take it all
+in all, my visit thar upsot me more'n I callated, 'n' I guess when
+Chip's settled, I'd best go to the woods 'n' forgit all that's past.
+My life's been a failure, anyway."
+
+And Old Cy was right; but it was grim and merciless Fate that made it
+so, and for that he was not responsible.
+
+Love in youth is a sweet song of joy and hope and promise. But love
+that spans a lifetime, that reaches and caresses our heartstrings once
+again as we enter the final shadows, has only the pathos of parting
+and the tender chords of almost forgotten melodies in it. Vainly do we
+strive to enter the enchanted garden once more. Vainly do our heart
+throbs beat against its adamant walls. Vainly do we hope to catch just
+one more of the old bygone thrills. It is useless, for none can live
+life over, and once age has locked the portals of youth and fervor, they
+are never opened again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+
+With September came a supreme event in the lives of Chip and Ray, when
+Mr. and Mrs. Frisbie, Aunt Comfort, Miss Phinney and Hannah, Uncle
+Jud and Aunt Mandy, and Old Cy, all gathered in Aunt Abby's quaint
+parlor to see her aged pastor join their hands and lives. Then came the
+kisses, the congratulations, the rice, and old-shoe throwing, and then
+solitude and tears for Aunt Abby. All the wedding guests except Old Cy
+hied themselves away with the new pair, and he left for Bayport.
+
+And thus closes the history of Chip McGuire, waif of the wilderness and
+slave of Tim's Place.
+
+Bless her!
+
+Two days later Old Cy returned.
+
+No one was in the house when he knocked at Aunt Abby's door, and then,
+led perhaps by the invisible chord that spanned forty years, he slowly
+strolled up the path beside the old mill-pond, which he and she had often
+followed in the old, old days.
+
+His heart had led him aright, for there, at the foot of the ancient oak
+that had once been their trysting-place, she sat.
+
+"I thought I'd come over 'n' bid ye good-bye, Abby," he said gently,
+as she arose to meet him. "I've been doin' a good deal o' biddin'
+good-bye to-day. I bid good-bye to the old graveyard whar my folks
+is; it's all growed up to weeds 'n' bushes, I'm sorry to say. But
+that can't be helped. It's the way o' natur. I've been down to the
+p'int whar you 'n' I used to go, an' I bid that good-bye," he
+added, seating himself near her. "Ye 'member it, don't ye, Abby,
+'n' them days when we went thar to watch the waves?"
+
+"I do, Cyrus," she answered, her voice trembling. "I remember all the
+old days only too well."
+
+"They all come back to me, too," he continued in a lower tone, "an'
+I wish I could skip back to 'em, but I can't. I'm an old man now,
+an' no use to nobody, 'n' not much to myself. I've been a wanderer
+many years--ye know why, Abby. I've had a short spell o' joy, kinder
+helpin' this boy 'n' gal into sunshine 'n' a home. They've gone
+their way now 'n' sure to forgit me an' you. It's nat'ral they
+should, 'n' all that's left me is to go back to the woods 'n' stay."
+
+He paused a moment, glancing up the narrow pond to where it ended in
+shadow, and then continued: "It's curis, Abby, how life begins with
+how-de-do's 'n' smilin' friends 'n' cheerin' prospects, 'n' then
+ends with good-byes 'n' bein' forgot. It's what we must callate on,
+though, an' a good deal like a graveyard is left to weeds and bushes."
+
+Once more he paused, closed his eyes, and remained silent for a time.
+
+"Wal, I might as well be goin'," he said finally, rising and extending
+his hand, "so good-bye, Abby. I wish ye well in life."
+
+"But is there any need of it?" she answered, turning her face to hide
+the tears as his hand clasped hers.
+
+"Why, no, only to fergit my sorrer," he answered; "I can't do it
+here."
+
+"But who will care for you there--at last--and--must you go?" Then she
+turned to him again.
+
+And then he saw, not the gentle, saddened face upraised to his, but the
+tender face of sweet Abby Grey of the long, long ago.
+
+"Must you leave us--me?" she whispered once again.
+
+"Wal, mebbe not," he answered.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
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+Suggestions for the Utilizing of Home Grounds. 12 mo., cloth, 350
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+Here is a book literally "for the million" who in broad America have
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+A LITTLE BOOK of TRIBUNE VERSE
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+GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers
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+52 DUANE STREET :: :: NEW YORK
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+
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+End of Project Gutenberg's The Girl From Tim's Place, by Charles Clark Munn
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