The Glenwood post., 1921-07-23
CHAPTER I.
David MoreIand's Mountain.

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himself and few close friends as Bill
Dale-had laid out course of action
almost before the northbound train
had left the outskirts of the state cap
ital behind. 1t incurred facing big
odds; but others men had faced big
odds and won out, and what others
had done he could do. Indeed, he had
already done several things which
other men might not have thought of
doing, and one of them was leaving a
bride, not figuratively but literally, at
the altar In fashionable church But
he knew Patricia hadn't wanted to
marry him any more than he had
wanted to marry her.
1t was only natural for him to think
Of coal, now that he had cut loose for
all time from the "set" in which he
had always been colossal misf1t, now
that he must pull his own oars or viz
tually perish. He had heard coal
talked since the day Of his birth; to
him coal and business meant exactly
the same.
One Of his fathers associates had
often spoken Of hne vein in the
mountains Of eastern Tennessee-had
often tried to persuade his father 70
look into 1t, to no avail, Young Dale re-
membered that this vein lay not far
from a long railroad siding called the
Halfway Switch, In the vicinity Of Big
Pine mountain. The owners were
mountain folk of English descent, his
fathers associate had said. Decidedly
strange, thought Dale, that his father
had never cared to Investigate 1t.
The cindery little train reached the
long siding about the middle of fine
spring morning. Dale took up his bag,
fastened out. and soon found himself
standing alone In the heart of an ex-
tremely wild section of country.
When the noises of the little train
and the fast mail 1t had Just met had
died away, there came the saucy chat
tering of boomer-squirrels and the
sweet twlttering of birds. Dale caught
the joyous spirit. He could have
fairly shouted out Of the fullness Of
his very human heart. Here all was
unspoiled and unprofaned, and some
thing whispered within him:
"I'hey won't call you savage
here-make this your own country''
From somewhere on nearby
nountainside rifles keen report split
The air; bullet whined like mad
hornet; Dale's hat jumped little on
his head
The awakening was exceedingly
rude. Dale wheeled, his gray eyes
ablaze. and saw only tiny cloud of
smoke mist rising from the laurels
more than fifty feet away.
Come out, you coward" he roared.
Come out and let me see you," curl
ostty taking the place of anger In his
voice. I've always wanted to know
Just what real highwayman was
likev
The muffied sound Of a twig break
ing short distance off to his left next
claimed his attention. He was being
closely watched BY pair Of the I'm
est, ciearest brown eyes he had ever
seen. He saw her eyes first he never
forgot thAt
She was standing on low cliff be-
.yond the sparkling creek that flowed
beside the railroad, and she was par
tally hidden by clump of blooming
laurel But Dale could see that she
was about twenty that every line Of
her rounded, graceful figure whis-
pered of doelike strength; that she
,fuh nj that
her chestuut-brown hair caught the
sunlight. aud that her face was oval
shaped and handsome-rather than
pretty-in spite Of its tan.
Dale took off his hat. There was
bullet hole In the very top of Its high
peaked crown.
"Who's the robber?" he frowned.
The girl blushed.
"Ncbbe he amt a robbcr," she said.
"Mebbe he thought you was somebody
else. Anyhow, you amt bad hurt. are
yer
Dale smiled. "Oh. not serIously!"
"You ain't likely to be. eff we behave
yesslf."
"If I behave myself Dale
laughed. "Why. couldn't ne naughty
II I tried I'm the one and only man,
mas little Willie-bOy! wonder II l
could put up at some house near
here; eh?'
"The' might be" she said, thought
fully.
"Where?''
AT pap's. or grandpap's, or with
most any o. my people; or" she added
with a contemptuous twist to her lips,
"you might stay with some o them
Iow-dowu Morelands.'
"Where do your people liver
"AhOut six mile back that way"
She pointed over her shoulder with
a forehnger.
.Wouid you mind showing me the
way to your parental domicileT'