Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1921-08-25
CHAPTER M
Goliath Of the hIIls-


Dale awOke a little after daybreak
arose and dressed himself. and went
out by way Of the door beside the
huge stOne-and-clay chielney.
The mountain air was bracing. Dale
threw out his chest and started eager.
ly for a walk.
The road led past the cabin of
Grandpap MOreland. When Dale was
directly In front OF the log house. he
saw the aged mOuntaineer standing on
rickety sawhorse beside the stone
step ut the narrow porch; Grandpau
Moreland was helping a gray cat down
from the roof.
"Mornin'i was jest atakIn' that
thar cussfired old pest down often the
roof. I've took him down every morn.
in'.as regular as make fires. TO- three
year or more. Ef Il wasn't bad luck
20 Kill cat, / shoot him, mebbe."
After breakfasting with John More
land. Bill Dale borrowed flshlng-tackls
from his host. and set out alone for
the little river.
There were many shoals and rapids.
and he went almost half mile before
ne found place to his liking. II was
a beautiful spot. Above, the water
poured between two great boulders
with a gentle roar: below. Il Swallowed
out over round stones. Overhead
lowered tall white sycamores.
Not until he had put q mInnow on
the hook and cast II out did he see
that he was not alone at the pool. On
the other side. less than sixty feet
away. Babe Littleford sat on a stone
the size of n small barrel: she held
cane fishing-rod In her hands, and
her bare feet were In the water to her
ankles. She was looking squareIy to-
ward bale. and there was something
akin 10 reprOachful anger In her long
brown eyes.
Good mOrningi" called Dale. lifting
his hat.
There was no reply. There was not
even change Of cOuntenance. Again
bale called his friendly greeting. and
again there was no reply. Il pIqued
Dale.
A few yards down tie stream the
white body OF q sycamore lay from
one hank to the other: n had been
blown there by recent storm. Dale
wound his line, went down and crossed
by means OF the PROSTATE tree.
She didn't even look around when
he walked up to her and spoke again.
10 struck him as being decidedly odd.
u say" he told her. you're as
clatty as q set of stencils. You
mustn't talk so much. y'know."
Her eyes smiled at the river. but
i'aie couldn't see her eyes.
DO you like vioIets. Miss Little
fnrdT" he asked next.
In the black. mIca-starred soil n,
his feet grew a carpet Of the finest
violets he had ever seen. Babe LET the
tip Of her cane rod fall into the water
and looked around.
1T sounds funny 10 hear man talk
n sech little things rs viIets." she de.
eiaresi- 'aIost o. men don't think o.
nothin' hut workin'. huntIn'. nghtin'
AMI eatin'. I'm a little mad at youi
] went home yeste'day-and I think
! run might nigh the whole six mile.
and fixed up dinner TO- you. cause I
understood you was a-cOmIn' to our
house-and you went TO them low
down Morelandsi"
II BEG pardon" he said contritely;
didn't know you were especially ex-
rectlng me. had business" he added,
with John Moreland."
There came to his ears from some
where down the river the chorus Of
q raklsh old hill song. and the voice
was that Of the lanky moonshIner, BY
Heck
a'oh. when die. d0n't-a bury me deem.
Put no tombstone at my head and feet,
Put bears jawbons In my right hand
On my way 20 the Promised La-a-and,
OBI On my way % the Promised
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