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"Jasie," she said then, "I reckon when Babe was a-playin' 'possum in the bushes that day, he could 'a' shot ye when you run down the hill." She took his silence for assent and went on: "That shows he don't hold no grudge agin you fer shootin' at him." Still Jason was silent, and a line of stern justice straightened the woman's lips.

"Wasn't it lots o' fun, Jasie?" "Shore!" was the absent-minded answer, for Jason was looking at the strangeness of the night. It was curious not to see the big bulks of the mountains and to see so many stars. In the mountains he had to look straight up to see stars at all and now they hung almost to the level of his eyes. "How's the folks?" asked Mavis. "Stirrin'. Air ye goin' to school up here?"

She hesitated and Jason whirled with such fury that his mother caught him with both arms, and Steve lost no time reaching for his gun. "I jammed it agin the kitchen door, Jasie." He looked at her, knew that she was lying, and when he turned to go, halted at the door.

"Home," was Jason's short answer, and he felt Mavis's arm about his waist begin to tremble. "Git off, Mavis, an' git up hyeh behind me. Yo' home's with me." Jason valiantly reached for his gun, but Mavis caught his hand and, holding it, slipped to the ground. "Don't, Jasie I'll come, pap, I'll come."

"Jasie!" she called. "Whut you want?" "Jasie, take me back home with ye, won't you?" A rough denial was on his lips, but her voice broke into a little sob and the boy lay for a moment without answering. "Whut on earth would you do down thar, Mavis?"

"Git a poke, mammy," said old Jason when the boy dropped knife and fork, "an' fill it full o' victuals." And still with a smile the thick-set man watched her gather food from the table, put it in a paper sack, and hand it to the boy. "Now git, Jasie these men air goin' to stay hyeh with me fer' bout an hour, an' then they can go atter ye ef they think they can ketch ye."

"Now, don't take it so hard, Jason. Come on in, boy, an' stay all night." Still the lad was silent and another face appeared at the door. "Come on in, Jasie." It was his mother's voice and the tone was pleading, but the boy, with no answer, turned, and they heard his stumbling steps as he made his way along the fence and started over the spur.

His step-father yawned and said nothing, and his mother looked on into the fire. "When you goin', Jasie?" she asked at last. "Daylight," he answered shortly. There was a long silence. "Whut you goin' to do down thar?" The lad lifted his head fiercely and looked from the woman to the man and back again.

He heard Mavis behind him, but he did not turn, for all he had to say he had said, and the break in his reserve was over. "I'm glad you come back, Jasie," was all she said, shyly, for she understood, and then she added the little phrase that is not often used in the mountain world: "Good-night." From St.

I'm goin' to stay up here till dark. They can't see nothin' then." There was not a word of rebuke for her; it was his secret and hers now, and pride and gratitude filled her heart and her eyes. "All right, Jasie," she said obediently, and down the bowlder she stepped lightly, and slipping down the bed of the creek, disappeared. And not once did she look around.