The Spectator., 1915-11-23

ebb-tide, and had he stretched out his arms, she would have shaken her head wearily on abstract resolves and come into their embrace. But he was not there.
 In the quaint conversation of the Widow Everson and her sons Juanita found so much of the amusing that she had to school herself against too great an appreciation of their utterly unin- tentional humor Though she was "fotched-on woman" to be taken on probation, it was only a matter Of hours before the family capitulated, as people in general had a fashion of do- ing under the spell of her graciousness and charm. Jerry Everson, whom men accounted surly, for the first time Ill years brushed his shapeless hat and remembered not to hang 1t on the floor" and Sim Everson hied him into the misty woods at dawn and brought home squirrels for her first breakfast in his house.
 In the forenoon of her first day she left the house and, crossing the tiny garden where the weeds were already growing tall and rank enough to hint of future ragged victory, she made her way by narrow trail that led to the crest of the ridge.
 Juanita was steering her course for patriarchal poplar that sent straight shaft heavenward at the rim of the crest. opening its verdure like a great flag, unfurled on mighty para pet. She knew that up there she could look two ways across the divide. and that her battle-ground would be spread before her.
 She looked to the east, and line after line of hills melted into the sky. She rose. phalanx on phalanx. to dissolve in a smoky haze that effaced the hori- zon. It seemed as if in a majesty of relentlessness they reached from sun rise to sunset, and so, as far as the locked-in life of their people went, they might.
 She stood there a long while, and finally she saw, where for space the road ran near the brick house, un- shielded by the woods. struggling little cortege. At its front rode a stoop-shouldered man in whom, even at that far distance. she thought she recognized the missionary. Behind him came a few horsemen riding in two squads, and between the squads crawled ''jolt-wagon" drawn by mules. She knew that the Haveys were bringing back to the frontier the | the cold reality.
 It may have been three hours later that Good Anse Talbott rode up to | the Widow Eversons When the girl. who had returned long ago from the crest. came out to meet him at the door she found him talking there with Milt McBriar. who had also ridden up, but from the other direction.
 "Anse Havey lows" the preacher was saying, that he hes done fetched home ther body of little Nash Watt. an thet ther boy was shot ter death | from the winder whar Cal Douglas was a standin'!"
 I've done already acknowledged thet," declared Milt in a voice into which crept a trace of truculent sul lenness.
 The missionary nodded II hain't quite through yit, Milt," he went on evenly. and the girl who stood lean ing against the door-frame. caught for an instant sparkle of zealot earnest ness in his weary eyes.
 "Anse is willin' ter take yore hand on this truce. He's willin ter stand pledge thet ther Haveys keeps faith But I'm a preacher of the Gawspel of God, Milt, and l don't low ter be nc go-between without both of you men does keep faith"
 Milt McBriar stiffened resentfully and his dark brows drew together un der his hat brim.
 Does ye doubt thet I'll do what says?" he inquired in voice too soft for sincerity.
 The missionary did not drop his steady and compelling eyes from the gaze direct. It was as if he were read ing through the pupils of the other and searching the dark heart
 "l aims ter see thet ye both starts out fair. Milt." he said, still quietly An ter thet end aims ter admonisf ye both on ther terms of this meetin atween ye.'
 For an instant Milt McBriar's sem blance of calm effectiveness slipped from him and his voice rose raspingly Did Anse Havey learn ye the speech?"
 Good Anse Talbott shook his hea, patiently,
 No. I told Anse ther same thing I'm a-tellin' you. Neither Anse nel ther four men that fetches ther bod, will hev any sort of weapon abou 'em when they comes acrost thet stile A.