ISS
A GENTLE PIONEER
'
HISTORICAL BOOKS BY AMY E.
BLANCHARD.
A GIRL OF '76. A STORY OF THE EARLY PERIOD OF
THE WAR FOR INDEPENDENCE. Illustrated. 331 pages.
Cloth. 1 1. 50.
A REVOLUTIONARY MAID. A STORY OF THE MIDDLE
PERIOD OF THE WAR FOR INDEPENDENCE. Illustrated.
321 pages. Cloth. $1.50.
A DAUGHTER OF FREEDOM. A STORY OF THE LAT-
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trated. 312 pages. Cloth. $1.50.
A HEROINE OF 1812. A MARYLAND ROMANCE. Illus-
trated. 335 pages. Cloth. $1.50.
A LOYAL LASS. A STORY OF THE NIAGARA CAMPAIGN
OF 1814. Illustrated. 319 pages. Cloth. $1.50.
A GENTLE PIONEER. BEING THE STORY OF THE
EARLY DAYS IN THE NEW WEST. Illustrated. 336
pages. Cloth.
SHE STOLE HER ARM AROUND HER FATHER'S NECK.
A GENTLE PIONEER
BEING THE STORT OF THE EARLY
DATS IN THE NEW WEST
BY
\ AMY E. BLANCHARD
ILLUSTRATED BY
IDA WAUGH
W. A. WILDE COMPANY
BOSTON AND CHICAGO
Copyright, rqoj,
BY W. A. WILDE COMPANY.
All rights reserved.
A GENTLE PIONEER.
Published in July.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. EMIGRANTS 9
II. THE HOUSEWARMING 24
III. A SEARCH 43
IV. THE UNEXPECTED 58
V. POLLY - 73
VI. JEANIE'S SECRET 89
VII. THE INTRUDER 105
VIII. ARCHIE'S PLAN 121
IX. WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT .... 139
X. HONEY 155
XI. AT THE END OF THE VISIT . . . .170
XII. MOTHER 187
XIII. PLOTTING , .205
XIV. JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 223
XV. WHO HAD THE WILL ...... 241
XVI. A SUPPER AT PARKER WILLETT'S . . . 256
XVII. IN ABSENCE 271
XVIII. THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY . . , . 287
XIX. DR. FLINT . 304
XX. HER HEART'S DESIRE . . . . .321
5
MJL06337
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
u She stole her arm around her father's neck" Frontispiece 10
" Agnes slipped off to a corner where Jeanie found her " . 37
" She drew aside the curtain from the little window " . .108
" Very sweet did the girlish voices sound " . . . .180
u Parker watched her for a few minutes, not attempting to
help " .263
A GENTLE PIONEER
CHAPTER I
EMIGRANTS ',/>'',?
IT was a grave little company which sat around the
big fireplace of the Kennedy farm-house one night
in March. Outside the wind howled and blustered, and
even though a huge log fire shot its flames in fine
fashion up the wide chimney, there was necessity for
sand-bags at the door, and for heavy homespun curtains
at the windows to keep out the insistent draughts which
would make their way through every chink and cranny.
The younger children cuddled close together on the
hearth, their mother from time to time looking up from
her work to watch them thoughtfully ; their father, silent
and moody, gazed into the snapping fire, while Agnes
herself, old enough to understand better than her
brothers and sisters the cause of the unusual serious-
ness, paused more than once in her task of knitting to
steal a glance at her parents.
At last Mrs. Kennedy aroused herself. "Come,
bairns," she said, "it is long past bedtime. Off with
you. I'll hear your prayers and see you safely tucked
9
10 A GENTLE PIONEER
in." Accustomed to prompt obedience, the children
arose, Sandy and Margret, Jock and Jessie. Agnes
alone stayed behind at a nod from her mother.
When the last little lagging foot had ceased to be
heard upon the stair, the girl turned to her father and
said, "I,am going to sit up till you and mother go
to bed, for this is the last night in a long time that we
n a long time," he sighed; and then Agnes,
contradicting her own statement, returned : " Oh, no,
not a long time ; in a very little while we shall be able
to send for them. Won't it be good, father, to see them
all coming, Sandy and Margret and Jock and Jessie?
You will go for them, and I will get a hot supper ready,
and they will all be so surprised to see how fine a place
a log-cabin can be. Think of it, this time next year
we shall all be together again." She stole her arm
around her father's neck and laid her cheek against his.
" Aren't you glad I am going ? " she asked with a little
laugh.
"I am, my lass, though I misdoubt I am selfish in
taking you from your mother."
" Sh ! There she comes ; we must look very cheer-
ful. We were talking about what fun it will be when
you and the children come," she said brightly, as her
mother entered.
"Yes," was the reply, "but there's a weary time
between."
EMIGRANTS 1 1
" Oh, no, it will go very quickly, for there will be so
much to do. First our going and then your getting off
to Cousin Sarah's, and all that."
" Youth likes change," returned her mother, with a
sigh, " but Agnes, child, it is not worth while your bid-
ing here all night talking of it. Go to bed, my lass.
To-morrow will come soon enough, no matter how late
we sit up, and you have a long journey before you."
She spoke so gravely that suddenly it came to Agnes
that the exciting plan in which she was so deeply con-
cerned meant more than change and adventure ; it
meant hardship and separations from those she loved ;
it meant long absence from her mother and the little
ones ; it meant the parting from old neighbors and the
giving up of the old home where she was born. So she
very soberly made her good nights and went to her chilly
upper room with a serious countenance.
The wind whistling around the corners of the house,
shrieking through the keyholes and sighing about the
chimney, sounded particularly doleful to her that night
as she lay snuggled down in the big feather-bed by the
side of her little sister Margret, and she remained awake
for a long time. Life had gone on evenly enough for
all the fifteen years that this had been her home, and the
boundaries of the big farm seemed likely to hedge her
in for some years to come, but within a year her grand-
father and grandmother had both died, and her father,
who as the youngest child had always lived at home with
12 A GENTLE PIONEER
the old folks, now must possess only a share of the farm,
and the elder brothers, already prosperous men, would
claim their heritage.
"It was right of father not to be willing to settle
down here on a little bit of a tract and have them all
free enough with their advice but with nothing else,"
thought Agnes. " My uncles are a canny, thrifty set,
but they save, and save, and never remember that but
for his care of his parents my father, too, might own his
own homestead, and grandfather forgot, too. Perhaps
he thought the others would give the farm to father,
he ought to have it, but they are too stingy to give it
and he is too proud to ask it. I am glad my grand-
mother was not their mother, for father is far different.
Dear father ! Oh, yes, I am glad to go with him. He
deserves to have all the comfort he can get after being
treated so hardly by his family. We were always good
comrades, my father and I ; for I was the baby all those
years before Sandy came, three years." But the reckon-
ing of years soon became lost in the land of dreams, and
the song of the wind in the chimney was Agnes's last
lullaby in the old home.
It was a bright sunny morning that Agnes and her
father took for starting out upon their journey, the man
on foot, and Agnes established in a sort of basket or
creel made of willow and fastened to one side of the
packhorse, balancing the burden of provisions and other
necessities made in a bundle on the other. It was only
EMIGRANTS 13
when she was tired that Agnes would ride, but she was
resolved to start out in this fashion for the benefit of her
brothers and sisters, assembled on the doorstep to see the
start and vastly interested in the whole proceeding.
There was another reason, too, why the girl established
herself in her creel, for the parting between herself and
her mother had been too much for them both, and the
tears were raining down the little emigrant's cheeks as
she quavered out, " Good-by, all." But the horse had
scarcely started before she begged to stop, and, leaping
out, she ran back to where her mother stood vainly striv-
ing to check the sobs which convulsed her. " Oh, mother,
mother ! " Agnes flung her arms around her neck and
kissed the dear face again and again. " Don't forget
me, mother. Good-by, once more."
"God keep you safe, my lamb," came the broken
words, and Agnes ran back again to where her father,
with bent head and lips compressed, waited for her.
She climbed up into her creel again, and they started
off with no more delay. As far as she could see Agnes
watched first the group on the porch, then the white
house, and last of all the familiar outline of field, hill,
and dale. At last these, too, became but dim distance,
and Agnes Kennedy had seen her old home for the last
time.
The ride was made in silence for some distance, and
then Agnes remembered that in the last talk early that
morning her mother had said : "You must try and keep
14 A GENTLE PIONEER
a good heart in father, my child, for he is given to
being despondent at times and is easily discouraged.
It is a great cross for him to be parted from his family
and to leave the safe and pleasant ways he has been
accustomed to all his life, so try to cheer him all you
can." Therefore Agnes from her creel called out:
" I'm going to walk awhile, father ; there'll be plenty
of times when I shall have to ride. I might as well
walk while I can, and, besides, I shall be nearer you."
Her father stopped, and then the two trudged to-
gether toward the town to which they were first going.
" I shall not be surprised," Agnes remarked, " if we
have company when we are fairly on our way, for I
hear there are trains and trains of wagons besides the
packhorse going westward. I'd like a merry company,
wouldn't you, daddy ? "
Her father shook his head. " I misdoubt it, Nancy.
I'm no one for new acquaintances, as ye weel know."
"Ah, but I am," returned Agnes, "and that's for
why you are better when I am along. You don't draw
so dour a face. It's no worse that we are doing than
your grandfather did, and no so bad, for did he not
leave his country and come across the ocean to this
land ? But no, it wasn't really his own country, Ire-
land, was it ? for before that his father or was it his
grandfather ? fled from Scotland because he followed a
Protestant king. Grandfather used to tell me about
it all and the songs they sang. 'Scots wha hae wi'
EMIGRANTS 1$
Wallace bled ' " she trolled out as she ran along, keeping
step with her father's long strides. " And how far do
we have to go before we come to the Ohio ? " she asked
after a while.
" Near two hundred miles," he told her.
" Let me see ; we go ten miles to-day, which is nothing
of a walk, and we spend the night in Carlisle, where
you get another horse, and we go how far the next day?"
" Twenty-five or thirty, I think we can count on."
" And that much every day ? "
" If the weather is good."
"Then in four or five days we shall go a hundred
miles, and in a little over a week, say ten days, we shall
get there. I wonder what it looks like."
" Not so very different from what you see now a
trifle wilder, mayhap. But I wouldn't count on our
making it in ten days ; when we are crossing the moun-
tains, it will be sore work, verra rough travelling."
" Oh ! " Agnes was a little disappointed. She
thought it might be quite different and that the trip
would be made in short order, delays not having
entered into her calculations. However she resumed
the conversation cheerfully. " Now let us talk about
what we are going to do when we get there."
" My first step will be to get my land."
" And then stake it out," said Agnes, glad to display
her knowledge of the necessary proceedings.
" Yes."
16 A GENTLE PIONEER
"And next?''
" Build a log-cabin."
"You'll have to cut down the trees first and then
have what do they call it? a log-rolling."
" Yes, that will come first."
Agnes was silent a moment, then she began again.
" Father, I never thought to ask before, but where are
we going to sleep nights after we leave Carlisle ? "
" We'll make the towns along the way as far as we
can, and when we pass beyond them, we may find a
booth or so or maybe a cabin here and there, put up
for the use of travellers like ourselves. When we reach
the river, I may conclude to get a broad, as your grand-
father Muirhead did."
" What is a broad ? "
" A broadhorn, they call it, is a flat boat to be used
in shallow water to carry a family's belongings."
Agnes smiled ; this was such an adventurous way of
going. The boat, particularly, gave her a feeling of
novelty. " I hope you will get a boat ; it would be a
diversion to travel that way, and then no one would
have to walk, not even you, Donald." She patted the
horse affectionately. "Go on, father. Where do we
get the boat?"
" That I cannot say exactly. It may be at Fort Pitt
or it may be at some other place. I am going to hunt
up your cousin James at Uniontown, and we'll see
then."
EMIGRANTS 17
With this sort of talk and with long periods of silence
the day wore on till, late in the afternoon, they ap-
proached Carlisle, and there the first stop was made.
It was quite a familiar journey to this point, but from
there on the way led through a part of the country
unknown to Agnes, and the day's travels became
wilder and wilder as they approached the mountains.
It was then that Agnes understood her father's smile
when she first insisted upon the twenty-five miles a day,
saying that it could be easily covered, for many a night
it was a very weary girl who crept into whatever shelter
was afforded her, and slept so soundly that not even
the cry of an owl or the distant scream of a wildcat
could arouse her.
But at last the mountains were passed, and one day
they stopped at a small village consisting of a few houses
and a store. It was on the line of the emigrant's road
to western Virginia and Ohio, and here stores were laid
in by the pioneer who did not want to transport too
much stuff across the mountains. Here halted more
than one emigrant train, and, as Agnes and her father
drew up before the house that with small pretension was
denoted an inn, they saw in the muddy street several
canvas-covered wagons. " Ho, for the Ohio ! " Agnes read
upon one of these vehicles. She laughed, and at the
same time her eyes met the merry ones of a girl peep-
ing out from the wagon just ahead. With a little cry of
pleasure Agnes ran forward. " Ah, Jeanie M'Clean, is
c
1 8 A GENTLE PIONEER
it you ? Who would have thought it ? A year ago you
went away and you are still going."
" Indeed, I am then," returned Jeanie. " Father has
the fever as well as many another, and he says we shall
have better luck if we be moving on than if we stayed
where we were, so we're bound for the Ohio this time,
and it's glad we'll be to have you join us, if you go that
way."
"We do go that way, and I shall be glad when my
father cries, ' Stop ! ' How long do you stay here, and
where is your halting-place to be at last ? "
" We stay till to-morrow, and we are going somewhere
this side of Marietta. The oxen are not fast travellers,
not half as fast as the packhorses, but it is an easy
way for us women folks. Aren't you tired of your
creel?"
" Indeed am I, but it seemed the best way for me to
come when there are but two of us. Mother and the
children will follow as soon as we are well settled. I
think father will maybe get a broadhorn, though maybe
not. I hope he will, for it seems to me it would be the
most comfortable way of travelling."
" So many think ; and it is no loss, for they use the
boats after in building their houses. We have our
wagon and get along very well. See how comfortable
it is. Climb up and look."
Agnes did as she was bid, and indeed the monstrous
wagon looked quite like a little room with its feather-
EMIGRANTS 19
beds and stools, its pots, pans, spinning-wheel, and even
the cradle swung from its rounded top. " It is comfort-
able," she acknowledged; "far more so than the creel.
I'd like to travel so, I think, but I must follow my
father's will, of course. I see him there now, Jeanie,
talking to your father."
" I hope daddy will persuade him to join our train ;
the more the merrier and the safer. Oh, Agnes, shall
you fear the Indians ? "
" I don't think so. There is no war at this time and
they should not be hostile, father says. I am more
afraid of the wild beasts. Oh, how lonely it was some
nights when we were coming over the mountains and
could hear the wolves howling and the wildcats scream-
ing so near us. Many a time I wished myself safe at
home in my little bed with Margret. I would like to
join your train, Jeanie, for my father is not a great
talker, and there are days when we jog along and I tire
more of keeping my tongue still than I do of keeping
my legs going."
Jeanie laughed. " Here come our fathers. Now we
will hear what they have to say."
" The inn is full, Agnes," said Fergus Kennedy,
"though I may be able to get a corner on the floor with
some others. But what about you ? We will have to
see if some of the good people in the village will take
you in."
"Indeed, then," spoke up Joseph M'Clean, "she'll
20 A GENTLE PIONEER
not have to go that far. We've room enough on our
beds for one more, and she'll be welcome to a place by
Jeanie, I'll warrant."
" She'll be that," Jeanie spoke up, " so you'll not look
further, Agnes. Will we camp farther on, father ? "
" Yes, just a pace beyond, where Archie has taken
the cattle." Agnes looked to where she could see a
couple of packhorses, two cows, a yellow dog, and two
small pigs, these last being in a creel slung at the side of
one of the horses. Underneath the wagon swung a coop
full of chickens. Joseph M'Clean was well stocked up.
When the baby was safely in its cradle slung overhead,
and Mrs. M'Clean and the children were ensconced in a
row on the feather-bed, Agnes found herself occupying
the outside place, a fact for which she was thankful,
and not even the strangeness of the position kept her
awake long.
She was awakened bright and early by the general
uprising of the family and by the sound of Archie's
voice calling, " Mother, mother, sun's up." And so
the day began. Later on, when Agnes's father sought
her, it was to say that he had concluded to join Joseph
M'Clean and his friends. " I'll feel better to be by those
I've known since childhood than in the neighborhood of
strangers," he declared, " and Joseph says there's land
enough for all. I did think of going further away to
hunt up that property of your grandfather Muirhead's,
it was what your mother wanted, but I've concluded
EMIGRANTS 21
to settle this side. So we'll go along with our friends,
and I don't doubt but you'll be better satisfied, Agnes."
Therefore the rest of the way Agnes, for the most
part, kept her place by Jeanie in the big wagon, or,
when tired of sitting still, the two would get out and
keep pace with the slow-going oxen, while the pack-
horses went on ahead. In this manner they covered the
whole distance, camping at night, and starting off be-
times in the morning, the line of white-covered wagons
winding along the rough roads slowly but surely, and
each day bringing the little band of emigrants nearer to
their destination, though Agnes found the ten days had
lengthened into weeks before they came to their final
stop on the banks of the Ohio.
This long-looked-for moment arrived, there was much
excitement and nfhch running to and fro. The men
stalked about gesticulating and pointing out the various
features of the landscape ; the women gathered together
in groups, laughing and talking ; the more adventurous
children wanted to form exploring parties at once, while
the timid ones clung close to their mothers, awed by the
deep, impenetrable forest in which all sorts of dangers,
real or fancied, lurked. Then one after another the
little cabins were erected of rough, hewn logs, and in a
short time all of them were snuggled down, each in its
little hollow, where the newly chopped stumps indicated
a clearing. There was, too, a stockade and fort not too
far distant, for Indians were not to be trusted, even in
22 A GENTLE PIONEER
times of peace, and the shelter of the stockade would be
necessary when there came a warning.
It was quite summer by the time Agnes and her
father took possession of their home in the wonderful,
mysterious forest. A humble little house it was with
its rude chimney plastered with clay, its unglazed win-
dows with their heavy wooden shutters. Its great
fireplace in the one room was where Agnes would
cook the daily meals ; the little loft overhead, reached
by a rough ladder, was her bedroom. Skins of wild
animals composed her bed and coverlet, and the daily
food would be found close at hand, game from the
forest, milk from the cow they had bought, and por-
ridge or mush from meal which they ground them-
selves.
Jeanie M'Clean, half a mile on one side, and the
O'Neills, half a mile the other, were the nearest neigh-
bors, so that, with her father busy all day in the woods
hunting or clearing his land, it was rather a lonely
life for the girl used to a family of brothers and sis-
ters, and with a mother to consult with and direct her.
Yet it was a very free life ; and the little log-cabin an
easy house to keep, consequently Agnes could almost
daily find time to run through the woods for a chat
with Jeanie M'Clean, though it was to good-natured,
kind-hearted Polly O'Neill that she took her troubles.
Polly, with just a taste of the brogue and her cheery
face, was a good companion when one felt doncy.
EMIGRANTS 23
Nothing seemed to bother Polly ; and if her four
children, the eldest nothing more than a baby, all
clung to her skirts at once, it did not seem to interfere
with her movements. Jimmy O'Neill had set up his
forge there in the wilderness, and as the blacksmith
was a very important figure in the community where
men must make many of their own farming imple-
ments, there was generally a company to be seen and
news to be had at Polly's, and Agnes congratulated
herself that she lived so near.
CHAPTER II
THE HOUSEWARMING
IT was to Polly that Agnes went one afternoon when
her father had been absent all day and the gloom
of the great encircling forest had oppressed her more
than usual. Polly was bustling about, singing happily,
when Agnes appeared at the door of the cabin. " Is
it yersel', Nancy, child ? Come right in," was the greet-
ing. "Jerry, lad, get a stool for Nancy. The bairnies
do be all in a pother agen I get their bit of supper, so
I'll go on with it, Nancy."
" Isn't it early for supper ? " asked Agnes, sitting
down and picking up the baby who was crawling about
on the puncheon floor.
" Early it is ; but if there was ten meals the day,
they'd get hungry between 'em, and the porritch is all
gone, so I'm makin' more, for when they see the pot's
empty they begin to cry. As if," she surveyed the
group smiling, " their mother didn't know where to get
more. And how goes the world with ye, Nancy ? "
"It goes a wee bit dour to-day," said Agnes, sighing.
" Father has been gone all day to the far clearing, and
24
THE HOUSEW ARMING 25
there's no one for me to talk to but the squirrels and
the birds."
" And it's lame yer tongue gets from the long rest.
Sure you've a nimble tongue, I notice, Nancy, and it's
hard to keep it restin'."
Agnes laughed. " So it is, but I didn't suppose you
had noticed that."
" It 'ud be hard not. I mind the last time ye were
here with Archie M' Clean that sorry a word could he
get in."
" Oh, Archie, he doesn't talk even when one is still,
and to sit hours at a time gazing at another is not to
my liking."
" Puir Archie ; he uses his eyes if not his tongue, and
what is one better than the other to use ? "
" I'd rather a wagging tongue than a blinking eye ;
it's more cheerful," responded Agnes.
" I misdoubt it when the tongue wags to your dis-
credit," returned Polly. " But, my fathers ! who's a
longer tongue than mesel' ? An* I'm not one to run
down me own most spakin' attrybutes."
" Ah, but you never speak ill of any one, Polly. Here,
let me stir the mush and you take the baby ; he is fret-
ting for you."
" He's frettin' for his sleep," said Polly. " Sure he's
wor'd out with creepin' the floor. I'll put him in his
cradle and he'll drop off." She drew the cradle from
the corner ; a queer little affair it was, made of a barrel
26 A GENTLE PIONEER
sawed across halfway, then lengthwise, and set upon
clumsy rockers, but baby found his bearskin as soft as
any mattress could be, and the lullaby of his little four-
year-old sister as sweet as any music.
"Land! but I clane forgot to tell ye," exclaimed
Polly, when the baby was settled; "there's to be a
housewarming next week."
"Oh, whose?" cried Agnes.
"Johnny McCormick's."
"Then he's married."
" Married he is. He fetched his bride home from
Marietta yesterday. They're at his brother's. They're
to have the housewarming next week."
" Oh, Polly, will you be going ? "
" Will I ? Was I ever absent from a scutching frolic,
or a corn-shucking, or a housewarming, or the like ?
Tell me that, Nancy Kennedy."
Agnes made no answer, but sat watching Polly ladling
out her bubbling mass of mush. " What fine new bowls
you have, Polly," she said.
"Jimmy, my man, made 'em o* nights. He's a
crackerjack at anything like that, is Jimmy. Come,
children, set by." And putting a piggin of milk on the
table, Polly placed the bowls in their places while the
children stood around, the younger ones in glee, beating
on the table with their wooden spoons.
" I must run home now," said Agnes, " for my father
will be in, and I must get his supper, and the cows are
THE HOUSEWARMING 2?
to be brought up. I'll get them on the way back if
they have not strayed too far."
" Ye'll no stay and sup with the children ? Jimmy
and I will have our bite when he comes in."
" No, thank you. I don't want to be late getting
home. The woods are dark enough by day, and when
the evening comes, it's worse. I'll keep along by the
river bank where it's lighter. Father shot a wildcat yes-
terday. We are getting quite a pile of skins against
the winter."
"They're very useful," said Polly. "I'll show ye
how to make yersel' a jacket ; you'll be wantin' wan by
the cold weather, and squirrel skin makes a fine one.
They're a pest, the gray squirrels, but they're not so
bad to eat,, and the skins, though small, are warm and
soft."
" I've shot a number of them, though I hate to; they
are so pretty and so frisky and friendly."
" They're far too friendly they are so plentiful and
eat up all our corn ; and, after all, it is better that we
should kill them mercifully than that they should be
torn asunder by wild beasts."
" That is what father says."
" And father's right ; our corn crops will be small
enough if we allow all the squirrels to help themselves.
Well, good-by, Nancy; don't forget the housewarming."
" I'll not." And Agnes took her way along the nar-
row bridle-path toward the river, glad to find it was
28 A GENTLE PIONEER
lighter outside than in the dim cabin, the windows of
which, covered with linen smeared with bear's grease,
did not admit much light. Still it was later than she
cared to be out alone, brave though she was, and
accustomed to the dangers of the forest, and she was
more than usually glad to meet Archie M'Clean coming
through the woods with his cows.
" Have you seen anything of Sukey ? " Agnes called.
Archie paused to think, then answered. " She's over
there a bit. I'll go fetch her for you."
" Oh, no, don't do that. I can get her if you tell me
where she is."
But Archie was striding down the path and Agnes
stood still waiting, keeping an eye the while on Archie's
cows. Presently the familiar tinkle of Sukey 's bell
announced her approach, then the girl and the lad
slowly followed the cows along the river's bank, Agnes
doing most of the talking, but Archie her willing listener.
The little settlement was slowly increasing. More
than one young man, though he possessed little beyond
his rifle, his horse, and his axe; was ready to marry the
girl of his choice, who would take her wedding journey
through the silent woods and would become mistress of
the small farm whose acres could be increased indefi-
nitely with little trouble. Therefore, when young John
McCormick began to make ready for his bride, there
were neighbors enough to join in and help to chop and
roll the logs, and next to raise the house itself.
THE HOUSEWARMING 29
Jeanie and Agnes were quite excited over the frolic,
for, so far, not many such had come to them. While
the men were busy doing their part in establishing the
young couple, the women of the community willingly
turned their attention to the preparation of the feast,
though John's rifle brought in the bear and venison.
Agnes had promised to go over to help the M'Cleans
do their part, and had quite looked forward to the day.
She was hurriedly* putting an end to her morning's
work when she heard a sound outside. The door stood
open, and the September sunshine flooded the little dim
room. On a bench by the door was a bowl in which
were two or three squirrels newly skinned and ready to
be cooked. Agnes meant to have them for her father's
supper. She turned to get the bowl, when in at the
door was thrust the muzzle of a gaunt wolf, which, scent-
ing the fresh meat, had come to investigate. For a
second Agnes was paralyzed with fear, and the next
moment, considering discretion the better part of valor,
she sprang to the ladder leading to the loft and climbed
up, leaving the rifle, which she knew well how to use,
below. The squirrels were young and tender and the
wolf was hungry, so he made short work of them, yet
they were only a mouthful and but whetted his appetite.
Agnes, peering below, saw the great, ferocious creature
sniffing the ladder and looking up at the loft. He medi-
tated an attack. She tugged at the ladder and presently
had it safely drawn up into the loft beside her. There
30 A GENTLE PIONEER
were snarls and growls below, and the wolf began to
make fierce springs for his prey. " If I only had my
rifle," murmured Agnes, " I would shoot him. How
fine it would be to do that all by myself." But the rifle
was beyond her reach, and she began to feel herself
lucky, as the wolf leaped higher and higher, if she could
keep beyond the reach of the sharp fangs.
There was no trap-door to the little loft, but Agnes
laid the ladder across it, hoping that, though the rungs
would give the creature something to clutch, it would
perhaps prevent him from doing more. After a while
the leaping ceased, and the wolf, sitting on his haunches
below there, snarled and showed his teeth ; but now
Agnes, being satisfied that he could not reach her, felt
her fear subsiding, and the situation, instead of being
exciting, became rather tiresome. She was missing the
fun at the M'Cleans'. She wondered how much longer
she was to be kept prisoner by this ugly creature. He
did not seem disposed to go away. Perhaps he would
keep her there all day. Wolves were not apt to come
around in the daytime, especially at this season, though
at night it was safer to shut windows and doors against
them. This one must have been pursued by some
hunter, and had come suddenly upon the cabin. Agnes
peered down at .him from between the rungs of the
ladder, and thought he was a very unattractive brute
as he sat there with his red tongue lolling out. " I'd
like your hide, you ugly beast," she said, " but I don't
THE HOUSEWARMING 31
want you to get mine. I think I'll drag my bed across
the ladder, and then if he can't see me, perhaps he will
go away."
This proceeding, however, seemed only to increase
the wolf's ambition to get upstairs, for he flung himself
madly into the air and once came so near that Agnes's
heart stood still. Yet he came no nearer, and the long
day wore on a doleful day indeed. Agnes could not
expect any one to come to her assistance, for her father,
knowing her intention of going to the M'Cleans', had
taken his lunch with him and had gone to the aid of
Johnny McCormick, like the rest of the men in the
settlement.
It was late in the afternoon that Agnes at last heard
some one call " Agnes ! Agnes ! Nancy Kennedy, where
are you ? " Then there was the sudden crack of a rifle.
The girl pulled aside the bearskin which made her bed
and peeped below. On the floor lay the gray form of
the wolf, and over it stood Archie M'Clean. " Agnes,
oh, Agnes," he cried, " are you hurt ? "
From above came the answer : " No, I am quite safe.
I'll put the ladder back and come down. I am so glad
you have killed that horrible wolf. He has kept me up
here all day. How did you happen to come ? " she
asked, when she was safe by Archie's side.
" We wondered why you didn't come as you promised,
and Jeanie said she was afraid something had happened,
so when I came out for the cows, I stopped to see."
32 A GENTLE PIONEER
" And found the wolf. Well, he has kept me a pris-
oner all day besides eating up my father's supper."
" Never mind, his skin will be very comfortable for
you on the floor."
" Oh, but it's yours ; you killed him."
" I think you deserve it, for you kept him there all
day so I could kill him when I came along."
" That's one way of putting it," said Agnes, laughing.
" I'll come back and skin him for you when I have
taken the cows home. Perhaps I can shoot something
for your father's supper, too, on my way."
" Oh, never mind that ; he's sure to bring home
something, for he has gone to the McCormick's new
house, and that is some distance. But come back, do,
and help me get my supper. I shall shut the door and
window tight after this, for I want no more wolves for
company, though I'd rather it were a wolf than an
Indian."
"Your father expected that you were at our house,"
said Archie, " perhaps you had better come with me."
" I must get the cow up first. Can you wait ? "
" Well enough. . I will get our own cows at the same
time ; then while you are milking, I will skin the wolf,
and then we can go together."
The tinkle of the cow-bells sounded not so far off and
it was not long before Archie and Agnes were trudging
along side by side, the carcass of the wolf having been
thrown into the river and the hide stretched for drying.
THE HOUSEWARMING 33
" And why didn't you go to the house-raising ? " asked
Agnes.
" Because I was needed at home."
" What will they be doing to-day ? "
" They'll finish up the odds and ends ; make some
tables and stools and benches and get it ready for
to-morrow."
"Then will come the housewarming. Did your
mother and Jeanie get through all they expected ? "
" Yes, and they have a good feast for John. I am
going to build a house when I am twenty-one."
Agnes laughed. " Whom will you put in it ? " she
asked saucily.
" You."
" Archie M 'Clean ! How do you know you will ? "
" I say I will," he replied doggedly. " I've as good a
right as any one to choose my girl. I am eighteen, and
many of the boys marry at my age ; but if I wait three
years, you will be eighteen then."
"Oh, but No, no, Archie, I'm too young yet to
think of such a thing. My father needs me, and my
mother will be coming. I'll think of nobody, of no lad,
till I see my mother again. In three years why, who
knows ? you may change your mind ; there'll be many
another girl in the settlement by then."
" And many another lad, maybe."
"Well, then, so much the better."
" I'll not change my mind," said Archie. " I'm not a
D
34 A GENTLE PIONEER
great talker, Agnes, but I know what I want, and when
I make up my mind I keep to it."
"And when did you make up your mind to build
your house ? "
" That day when I saw you, when we were on the
road here, and you were riding with Jeanie in the wagon.
It was four months ago."
" You'll be telling another tale four years from now.
I'm too young; fifteen isn't old enough to make any
promises."
" It's as old as my mother was."
" Maybe, but what is one man's meat is another man's
poison."
" Am I poison ? "
" No ; but that isn't what I mean. Oh, no more
nonsense, Archie, or I shall have to stay away from the
housewarming, and that I do not want to do."
They were within sight of the M 'Clean cabin, and
Agnes ran on ahead, but, seeing Jeanie standing there,
she ran back to Archie. " Don't tell any one," she said.
" Tell what ? About the wolf ? "
" No, about about what you said."
He nodded, and Agnes knew the secret was safe.
" Well, well, why didn't you come before ? " asked
Jeanie, when Agnes was within hearing.
" I couldn't ; I had company."
" Why didn't you bring the company ? They would
have been very welcome."
THE HOUSEWARMING 35
" No, he wouldn't." Agnes shook her head decidedly.
" Why, Nancy Kennedy, you know he would."
" I know he wouldn't."
" What was his name ? "
"Mr. Wolf."
Jeanie looked puzzled. " I never heard of him. Is
he an old friend ? Did he come from Carlisle ? "
" No, he did live near here."
" Doesn't he now ? "
" No, he's dead." Agnes laughed.
11 1 never heard of such a thing. What are you
talking about? Mother, you never heard such talk.
Come here and make Nancy tell us what she
means."
Agnes laughed at Jeanie's vehemence; then she
sobered down. " It was no laughing matter, I can tell
you, and but for Archie I might not be here now." And
she proceeded to tell the tale of her day's imprison-
ment.
" Why, you must be half starved ! " exclaimed Mrs.
M'Clean.
" No ; the wolf left me a piece of johnny-cake and I
drank some new milk, then we found some late black-
berries as we came along."
" Well, you will be glad of a good bowl of hominy.
Come in. Father'll not be back yet. Here comes
Archie with the milk-pails."
After her long day of solitude it was good, Agnes
36 A GENTLE PIONEER
thought, to get among her friends, and she chattered
away like a magpie, yet she was conscious of Archie's
gaze fixed upon her, and she felt uncomfortable, wish-
ing he had left their free comradeship as it stood. "I
am a little girl still. I want to be a little girl," she
announced suddenly, "and I don't believe I will go to
the housewarming."
" Nancy Kennedy ! Why not ? " exclaimed Jeanie.
" There will be other girls there no older than you.
There is Susan Duncan and Flora Magruder, and even
little Meg Donaldson is going."
"I know but "
" No buts about it. What a whimsey ! Of course
you'll go. There will be good sport, and no end of
feasting. I don't see how you can think of staying at
home." She was so persistent that finally Agnes ac-
knowledged that it was but a sudden whim, and that
she really wanted to go.
It was a homely, but jolly, little company which
gathered in the new log-cabin of John McCormick to
celebrate the housewarming. The rough pioneers in
their hunting-shirts, leather breeches, and moccasins
were a manly set of fellows ; while the girls in linsey-
woolsey petticoats, with linen bed-gowns, a handkerchief
folded across the breast, their feet shod in coarse shoe-
packs, were fit companions for the sturdy brothers,
husbands, and fathers, who outnumbered them. Agnes,
being one of the few who had recently come from a
AGNES SLIPPED OFF TO A CORNER WHERE JEANIE FOUND HER.
THE HOUSEWARMING 37
more, civilized neighborhood, could boast better shoes
and a finer kerchief. She was shy, however, and kept
close to Polly O'Neill, until that lively body joined some
gossiping friends, and then Agnes slipped off to a
corner where Jeanie joined her, and together they
watched the scene.
" Ah, but Polly is a romp ; I'd fain have her agility,"
said Jeanie, admiringly.
Agnes laughed as Polly belabored a stout lad who
captured her in a rollicking game, but she yawned the
next minute and said : " I'm sleepy. Does one have to
stay up all night ? "
" Indeed, yes. You'll have no chance to sleep. We
shall have to hang on till morning or they will hunt us
out and parade us up and down the floor. Here is
something to waken you up. Supper is ready."
Agnes rose with alacrity, and the company trooped to
the table which was nothing more than a slab of wood
supported by four round legs set in auger holes. It
was set with bent and dented pewter ware, rude
wooden bowls, and trenchers. A few pewter and horn
spoons, but no knives were visible ; the men used their
hunting-knives which they drew from a sheath hanging
from their hunting-belts.
But hardly had they begun to attack the venison and
bearmeat, the roasted corn, and johnny-cakes, before
the door was flung open and an express whispered
hoarsely, " Indians ! "
38 A GENTLE PIONEER
Agnes clutched Jeanie. " Where is my father ? " she
whispered. " Oh, what shall we do ? "
"To the blockhouse!" The word was passed; then
quickly lights were extinguished, and creeping slowly
along in the darkness the whole company started forth,
not knowing what moment the terrible yell of an Indian
would startle them, or whether they could reach their
refuge unhurt. Every one was silent as death. The
dreaded word " Indians ! " silenced even the smallest
child who, clinging to its mother, understood something
of the terror which inspired the older ones.
Close by Agnes's side strode Archie. "They shall
kill me before they take you," he whispered.
But there was no need for his heroics, for once
within the blockhouse they were safe, the Indians
rarely attacking these little forts. It was found, how-
ever, that all were not gathered in the retreat, and that
those who, for one reason or another, had not been at
the housewarming were in danger.
" My father was off hunting," said Agnes, pitifully.
" He does not care for frolics, you know. Oh, if the
Indians have found him, what shall I do ? "
"Never fear, my lass," Polly tried to reassure her.
" I've no doubt he is hiding, and when the redskins go
off, he'll come in safe and sound."
This was comforting, but still Agnes had her fears as
one after another of the stragglers crept back to the
fort, each with some new report. "Tell us your
THE HOUSEWARMING 39
news, Sandy," were the words which greeted the last
comer.
" The Indians are burning and plundering the cabins,"
he told them. " I sneaked around through the woods
and got here safely. I don't think there are many of
them, just a small raiding party. They have made a
dash, and will be off again presently. They'll not attack
the fort."
" Did you see my father ? " Agnes asked fearfully.
The man was silent a moment, then he answered : " I
left him an hour since on his way here. Hasn't he
come ? "
" No ; oh, no."
" Then he's likely laying low. Don't fret, my lass ;
he'll be coming along after a while."
With the rising of the sun the Indians disappeared.
They were too few in number to attack the fort, and had
counted on surprising the inhabitants of the little settle-
ment in their homes. Fortunately most of them were
at the housewarming, and those who were not present
were warned in time to escape. The little hunting party,
of which Fergus Kennedy was one, were the only per-
sons in real danger, and of the number all had now
returned but two. But many of the little cabins were
burned to the ground and the cattle slain.
At the return of her husband who had gone out to
reconnoitre, and who returned with the news that all
was quiet, Polly looked around at the buckets of water
40 A GENTLE PIONEER
which she had lugged in, and exclaimed : " Well, I
needn't a' put my stren'th in thim buckets. I'd better
saved it."
" But suppose the Indians had come and had tried to
fire the blockhouse," said Jeanie.
" Ah, but there's no supposin' ; they didn't."
" But we have to be prepared, and we were all glad to
have something to do in an hour of peril," said Mrs.
M'Clean, "though I, for one, have no pleasure in con-
stant alarm. I am for going to a more settled-up place.
I'm willing to move on if my man gives the word. I
mistrusted we were too far from ceevilization."
" Ay, ay ! ye may feel that a ways," returned Polly,
" but I'll no let the pesky critturs get the best o' me, and
I'll not move on fur 'em. Here I bide. I am as good a
shot as they are, an' one can die but wanst."
" Ay, but it's not the dying ; it's the being carried off
from home and kin, and having your babies murdered
before your eyes, and your husband tortured in your
presence."
" Sh ! " whispered Polly, for there was Agnes at her
elbow, eyes wide open with fear and cheeks pale. " I'm
not scared," Polly went on valiantly, with a nod to
Agnes. "We've the good strong blockhouse, and we
can bide here till the cabin's built again, if so be it is
burnded, which I'm not so certain it is, an' we're as safe
wan place as anither. Those that's born to be drownded
will niver get hung, sez I," she went on with a true
THE HOUSEWARMING 41
Presbyterian belief in the doctrine of predestination,
"an' if I'm kilt entirely by a tomahawk, sure I'll not die
of the pox, an' the former's the speedier. I may lose
me hair but not me beauty."
"I'd rather keep both if I can," returned Mrs.
M'Clean, laughing.
Polly grinned. v " Sure, ye'll have little trubble kapin'
what ye've not got," she replied saucily. At which
Mrs. M'Clean took her by the shoulders and shook her
so hard that Polly's mass of black hair tumbled down in
a big coil to her knees. She gathered it up in both
hands, and put it back under her cap, laughing at Mrs.
M'Clean's look. "Eh, Jean," she said, "I'm thinkin'
ye'll not be likely to lose yer scalp ; there's so little hair
ye hev to take a holt on."
" You're a saucy creature, Polly," Mrs. M'Clean
replied. " I've not your crop on my head, I know, but
neither have I so much on my lip." Polly's mouth was
ornamented by quite a visible mustache, and the laugh
was against her, so she gave in cheerfully and turned away.
Seeing Agnes standing aloof with mournful eyes, she
went up to her and took her in her arms. "We're a
thriflin' set, my dear," she said, " but it's the relief to the
moind and the cessaytion of worriment that makes one
so light. An* yer in trubble, but don't ye give up whilst
there's a loophole. Manny a one's been carried off and
has escaped, afther years sometimes, so I'd not mourn
yet."
42 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Ah ! but, Polly, if he's been killed or taken prisoner,
what shall I do ? "
" Ye've twenty or more homes waitin' fur ye, an' ye
kin begin with mine, an' stay there till ye weary av it,
thin move on to the next." She indicated the direction
of her dwelling by a toss of her head. " It's still standin',
I'm told, and back we'll go."
" But if the Indians come again."
" They'll not at wance, I'm sure. They know we're
too many fur 'em. But if ye'd rather stay here in the
fort, suit yoursel', and we'll all be pleased."
" I think I'll stay here," Agnes replied after a mo-
ment's thought, " for it is here father would come first."
" Ye've hit the nail on the head. To be sure he
would, but ye know ye're welcome to my last bite and
sup."
" Indeed I do, you good Polly. You are a real com-
fort." At which speech Polly wiped her eyes on her
sleeve, for her transitions from laughter to tears were
generally as sudden as the opposite.
CHAPTER III
A SEARCH
THAT evening Polly returned to her own home,
but the M'Cleans remained at the fort, and the
next day Jeanie told Agnes that her mother was bent
upon going nearer to the settlement of Marietta, that,
now their cabin was burned and all their stock killed,
they would be better off if they went farther on.
"Near Marietta?" exclaimed Agnes. "That is
where we were to have gone. If my father were only
here, we might go with you and search out the land
belonging to my grandfather; then we could send
for my mother." She was silent a moment. " I
think," she continued slowly, " I will do it, anyhow,
as soon as as we know the worst about my father."
" You do it ? "
" Yes, why not ? "
" How could you do it alone ? "
" I could get some one to help me. I would never
be satisfied to stay here by myself, and how could I
go back to my mother and tell her there was no home
in the wide world for her and the children ? There
43
44 A GENTLE PIONEER
are many coming out this way, but few going
back."
"That is true. Why don't you talk to my father
about it?"
" I will," and that very evening she told Mr. M'Clean
the story.
"It might be worth while," he said, "though per-
haps it would not. Land is plentiful, and if there
should be any trouble, I would not advise you to get
into it."
" I know land is plentiful, but this is a cleared farm,
with a good house on it. My grandfather was killed
by the Indians, and this is his place which now belongs
to my mother, to be had for the taking."
" Then come with us, and I will help you to your
rights if it is to be done."
" But my father if he should come back ?"
Joseph M'Clean laid his hand gently upon the
child's auburn hair. " Ye can scarce expect it, for
we've searched for him and he's not to be found."
Agnes choked back the sob that rose in her throat.
"I know," she said bravely, "but I am not going to
give up hope. He may be lying wounded somewhere,
and I am going to look for him myself. I feel sure I
could find him if he is to be found."
" Ye're a brave lass, Nancy," said the man, his own
eyes moist. " I'll go with ye, lass. It's a rough coun-
try we're in, and ye are not to go alone. We'll start
A SEARCH 45
another search for your father, for maybe, as you say,
he's wounded and can't get here by himself."
Agnes looked up at him gratefully, for his was the
first encouragement she had received that day.
" It'll be a rough tramp for ye, and maybe a danger-
ous one," said Jimmy O'Neill the next day, as he saw
Agnes ready to accompany the search party. " There's
Archie and Joe M'Clean besides mesel', and we'll not
lave a stone unturned."
" But I must go," Agnes returned wistfully. " If you
should find him, I would know that much sooner by
being with you. I'm not afraid, and I am a good
walker. I've travelled many a mile a-foot when
father and I were coming here."
Jimmy looked at Mr. M'Clean, who nodded as if in
agreement, and said : " Weel, if ye grow weary, we can
send you back with Archie, so we'll let you go, lass,
and may God direct us," he added piously.
Through the dim, deep forest they took their way,
following such trails as they could find, and noticing
the turn of a leaf, a broken twig, and those clews
which only a woodsman would look for. The two
men stalked on ahead, rifles on shoulder. Agnes and
Archie followed, their moccasined feet treading the
shining leaves pressed down by the footsteps of the
Indian raiders. The summer was over and the settlers
had thought themselves safe from Indian raids, but
when the warm hazy weather which November so
46 A GENTLE PIONEER
often brings had come upon them, it was a favorable
time for the Indians to sally forth again, bent upon
plunder. For this reason this late mild weather was
called "Indian summer." They followed the trail
for some time, Agnes's eyes alert as any to discover
anything which might suggest a possibility of her
father's near presence.
Suddenly she gave a quick exclamation. Sticking
to a bramble by the side of the way was a bit of fur.
The men came to an immediate halt at the sound of
her voice. " See ! " she cried. "It is a bit of some
one's coonskin cap." She examined the edges as she
plucked it from the thorny bush.
" It has been shot away," said Archie, as intent as
she upon the clew.
" You're sure it is not the skin of some creature shot
by some one ? " Agnes asked anxiously.
" No, it is dressed skin, not freshly killed," said
Archie.
They glanced around. A little farther on was a
shallow brook, on the borders of which there were
trampled weeds, as if some large body had passed
through. Agnes looked with imploring, questioning
eyes at Jimmy O'Neill as he raised himself up after
an examination of the spot. "It's worth following,"
he said in reply. "We'll go upstream a ways."
Agnes at the word dashed on ahead, unheeding the
brambles or the sharp boughs which lashed her face
A SEARCH 47
at every step. Archie, with long strides, kept close
behind her, and was by her side when suddenly she
swooped down with a cry, in which joy and fear
were mingled, and gathered up in her arms the head
of a man lying as still as death by the brookside.
"Father! Father!" cried the girl. "Speak to me!
Oh, he can't be dead ! Archie ! Archie ! tell me he
is not." She chafed the cold hands, and laid her
cheek against the quiet face.
" She's found him ! " cried Archie, as his father came
up. "But I think he's dead," he said in a low voice.
Joseph M'Clean was on his knees by the man's side
in a moment, and was pouring some spirits between
the clenched teeth.
Presently there was the faintest movement. " He is
alive ! alive ! " cried Agnes. " Oh, how thankful I am ! "
"He's alive, sure enough," said Jimmy O'Neill, "but
begorry ! I thought him clane gone whin I clapped me
eyes on him. Give him a drop more from Black Betty,
Archie, and he'll be comin' 'round." True enough in
a few minutes Fergus Kennedy opened his eyes with
a bewildered stare and attempted to sit up, but he
dropped back again too weak for the effort.
"We'll make a litter of boughs and get him home
all right," Agnes was assured, and very soon the little
procession was ready to start back to the settlement,
Agnes insisting upon helping to carry a part of the
burden.
48 A GENTLE PIONEER
For many days her father lay in a stupor, and even
when roused, he was not able to remember anything of
the Indian attack.
"I surmise," said Joseph M'Clean, "that the Indians
fired on him, and that the bullet took away a piece of
his cap and gave him that wound in the head. He was
able to keep up for a while, but after he grew weaker,
he crept off into the bushes where we found him."
" I don't see how he escaped the wild animals even
if he got away from the Indians," said Agnes.
" Likely he climbed a tree at first .and kept in hiding
from both beasts and redskins. The wound brought
on a fever, and he tried to get to the water and was
too weak and ill to move again. That's how I sum it up."
" My father was ever a quiet man, but he is more
so now," Agnes told her friends. And, indeed, it
seemed hard to arouse him from his lethargy when
his wound was actually healed. He would do patiently
enough anything that he was told to do, but seemed
unable to plan for himself.
"He'll get better after a while," Agnes always said
cheerfully, " but I think he'll get well quicker if we go
somewhere else. He seems to dread going to the
woods, and trembles if you mention* the Indians. I
don't understand it, for he was always so brave."
" One can't account for the strange ways of a body
hurt," said Mrs. M'Clean. "Maybe it would be best
that you take him back home."
A SEARCH 49
" We haven't any home," Agnes replied sorrowfully.
"You know father had to give up the farm; it was
sold after grandfather died, and father had only his
share of what it brought. Mother is with her cousin
till we make a home out here for her. You know we
started to go to a place already cleared and with a good
house on it. I wonder if it is very far. It is near the
Putnam Colony."
" That is where we are thinking of travelling."
"Then "
" You could go .with us ? Indeed and you could.
We are going to start before the river is frozen over,
and while there is not like to be any danger from the
Indians."
Agnes nodded. The plan suited her very well, and
she felt that it was happening very fortunately for her.
So in a few days Polly O'Neill, the Fergusons, the
McCormicks, and the rest of their friends watched
Joseph M 'Clean's broadhorn as it started down the
river, and there was a great waving of good-bys from
the shore. It was not a very merry parting, never-
theless, for it was very uncertain if these who remained
would ever again meet those who went.
" It's sorry I am to leave Polly O'Neill," said Jeanie.
" She'll be following us if the Indians trouble them
again," Agnes returned.
" She likes to be on the move, does Polly, and doesn't
mind lugging about her babies with her wherever she
50 A GENTLE PIONEER
goes. She'll roll the little baby up in a bearskin, and
leave the next older, sucking his thumb, to watch the
baby while Polly herself goes off to dance an Irish jig.
Oh, but she's a funny Polly."
" She is that, and I am loath to leave her."
"But I was so pleased when father said you were
coming with us," said Jeanie, " and some one else was
pleased, too."
"Who? Your mother?"
"No, Miss Innocence; it was Archie. I shall like
you for a sister, Nancy. Doesn't Archie grow to be
a tall fine lad ? Eighteen, and six feet tall. He'll not
be long finding you a home."
" That's nonsense," Agnes replied sharply. " I've
no time to think of such things. I've my father to
think of this long while yet, and when my mother
comes, I'll not want to leave her for a good bit."
__ m " Ah but there's no harm in talking of it. Archie
has his eye for you and no one else."
" But we are going to another place, and there may
be a dozen girls he would like better, so we'll not be
talking of it yet, but of some possible lad for you,
Jeanie. I'll describe him to you. He's no so tall, for
you are of a good height, and of course will not marry
a tall man."
" Ah, but I will."
" Hush, just wait till I make my description. He
has sandy hair, for your hair and eyes are dark, and
A SEARCH 51
he's a quiet fellow, for you are lively. Now, we shall
see. I will point him out to you as soon as I meet
him."
" Law, Agnes, you make me feel creepy. One would
think you were a witch."
" I'm no witch, then, but I've just common sense.
But did you hear how old Mother Martin was treated ?
The good old soul went to borrow a suppin' of milk
from Martha Mackin, and would she let her have it ?
At last she said, ' I'll give it to you, but I'll not lend
it,' and it all but broke Mother Martin's heart to have
her say that."
"And why?"
" Don't you know ? Why, Martha's baby had fits,
and she accused good old Mother Martin of working
a spell on the child, because Mother Martin was over
there when the spell came on, and you know then
Martha tried to put a spell on Mother Martin, and she
could only get it off by borrowing something if she
had been a witch."
"And was Mother Martin really a witch ?"
" No, of course not. No one believed it of her. She
is a good old woman, and the minister said it was but
spleen and ignorance that made Martha Mackin think
so. But it didn't distress Mother Martin any the
less."
With such chatter did the girls pass the day as the
boat floated down the river. Well wrapped in furs they
52 A GENTLE PIONEER
kept fairly comfortable, yet they were not sorry when
their journey was ended and they started for the new
lands, the girls full of talk, but the men silent and
watchful. They had little to begin the world with, for
their ruined cabins had held most of their belongings,
but with an axe and a rifle the frontiersman felt himself
sufficiently well equipped to face his future.
The settlement to which they were going was much
larger than the one they had left, and there were will-
ing hands to help them, therefore a new log-cabin was
not long in being erected. Then came the question to
Agnes of what would be best for her and her father.
It was hard to arouse him sufficiently to take an active
interest in their affairs, and Agnes, too proud to be
dependent upon their good friends, at last determined
to strike out for herself and discover how matters stood
with reference to her grandfather's land. She had
mentioned the subject once or twice to Mr. M' Clean,
but he had replied, " Plenty of time yet," and the girl
felt that she ought not to expect him to leave his own
important work to attend to her affairs. The country
around was well cleared, and she would herself make
inquiries and go to find out about this land. She would
make her plans before she told any one. It hurt her
that her father should be so indifferent, and yet she
was vaguely aware that he could not help it. For this
very reason she yearned to get him off to a home of
their own, and then send for her mother. Together
A SEARCH 53
they could take the helm and could protect him from
any outside criticism till he was well again.
" That's what mother would tell me to do," she told
herself. " Father will do anything he is told, but he
cannot think for himself, poor father."
It was with this thought on her mind that she made
her inquiries concerning her grandfather's farm. It
was to old Dod Hunter that she put her questions. He
was the earliest settler in the neighborhood, and knew
every one. He was always on hand to welcome a new-
comer, and was not slow in making the acquaintance
of the M'Cleans and the Kennedys.
He was starting for home one day when Agnes way-
laid him on the edge of the wood. " I want to talk to
you, Mr. Hunter," she said; "can you stop a minute?"
He leaned his rifle against a tree, folded his arms
and looked her up and down. " I reckon I kin spare ye
a few minutes," he made answer. "What's the talk?"
" Do you know anything about the Muirhead place?"
" Yes, I know it."
" What sort of a place is it ? "
" Pretty good ; well cleared and has a first-rate house
on it."
"Good!"
He looked at her sharply. " What's that to you ?"
" It is a great deal to me. I suppose somebody is on
the place ? It has been kept up ? "
"Somebody's there."
54 A GENTLE PIONEER
" And takes good care of it ? "
"Good enough."
" Will you take me there, Mr. Hunter ? "
"What for?"
" I have to go."
"I'll take ye if ye hev to go, but my advice is to stay
away."
" Oh, but I can't do that. You see father isn't quite
isn't quite himself, and I have to take the lead."
Dod Hunter gave a slow smile. "Yer a big hefty
crittur to talk o' takin' the lead. That's for us men
folks."
" It would be all right if father were well," Agnes per-
sisted. " Sometimes a woman can do a good deal.
At any rate I want to go to the Muirhead place and
see what it is like. Is it far from here ? Is it near to
where you live ? "
" It is the next place to me."
" That's good, too. When can I go ? "
"Lemme see I'm comin' this way agin to-morrow,
an' I'll start back bright and airly the next mornin' ;
ye could go then ef ye want."
" How far is it ? "
" A matter of twelve mile or so."
" Do you think they will let me stay there the
people, the tenants till I can get back here ? "
" I wouldn't advise ye to try it. Ye'd better come
back to my place when ye git through at Muirhead's.
A SEARCH 55
Debby, my wife'll be glad to hev ye. I'll send one o'
the boys arter ye. No, ye'd better not conclude to stay
at Muirhead's."
" Very well. I can settle my business there in
short order, I have no doubt. Thank you, Mr.
Hunter."
" I'm plain Dod er Uncle Dod ef ye like. I'm no
mister."
"Very well, then I will call you Uncle Dod."
" I don't say I hold to young gals travellin' around
through the country in a wild-goose fashion, but if ye
go with me, I'll guarantee I'll return you safe."
"It isn't a wild-goose fashion. It's for father and
mother and the children," returned Agnes, earnestly.
"You see you know father forgets and gets so be-
wildered, he couldn't do it, and I can. I think it will
be all right. I don't see why it shouldn't."
Indeed, to walk up and claim her grandfather's prop-
erty seemed the easiest matter in the world to the girl
in her simplicity. She knew her father held a copy
of the deed ; he carried it around with him in his
clumsy leather pocket-book. She could easily get it,
and with that in her possession the rest seemed plain
sailing. There was no need to trouble any one to help
her. All were busy with their own affairs. The
M'Cleans had all they could do to get their own work
done, and why ask them to stop to attend to hers ? She
had a thought of confiding in Archie and getting him
56 A GENTLE PIONEER
to go with her, but she decided she would better not,
since he was needed at home.
So she simply told her friends and her father that
she was going home with Dod Hunter and would be
back soon.
Jeanie looked at her in surprise. "Why, what do
you want to go with him for ? " she asked.
" Oh, I want to. He knows all the country here-
abouts, and we must look around if we are going to
settle here."
" Yes, but why not come in here next to us ? "
" Because oh, I will tell you when I get back."
It was nearly noon the next day before Dod Hunter
drew rein before a stout dwelling in the woods. The
drive of twelve miles had lengthened to fifteen over
roads such as one could scarcely imagine could exist
and be travelled upon. Conversation had not been
carried on with much spirit, although Agnes had gained
from the old man considerable information about the
country and the methods of its people. The girl's
brightness and quick interest evidently won her a good
opinion, for, as they neared the Muirhead place, the
grave driver turned to the girl at his side and said :
" It ain't none o' my business why you're here, Nancy
Kennedy. I've no right to advise ye, but I think ye'd
better go back. But if ye do conclude to hang on
and matters go hard with ye, I'm not far away. I don't
name no names, but there's hard customers for folks
A SEARCH 57
to deal with around here, and it's well ye should know
ye hev a friend at hand. If you want to come out as
soon as ye get in, I'll be waitin' by this tree."
"You are very good, Uncle Dod," Agnes returned
smiling. " You don't give me much encouragement,
do you ? I think I shall stay till I have finished what
I have to say. I am much obliged to you just the
same." She clambered down from her place, and went
bravely toward the house, it must be confessed with
some slight feeling of trepidation. Just what she had
to fear, she could not guess, but Dod Hunter had
succeeded in arousing a feeling which was the opposite
of assurance. For one moment she hesitated and
looked back to where the old man was waiting for
her, then she shook her head and said, half aloud,
" There is nothing in the world to be afraid of ! " and
on she marched.
CHAPTER IV
THE UNEXPECTED
THE sharp bark of a dog announced the arrival
of a stranger. One or two tow-headed children
peeped around the corner of the house and then ran
away. Agnes stood still for a moment and then knocked
peremptorily at the door. One of the children opened
it shyly, and Agnes entered. The house held four
rooms and a lean-to. The principal room downstairs was
utilized as a living-room ; from the adjoining apartment
came odors of cooking. " Say that Agnes Kennedy is
here," said the girl, with a confidence of manner which
showed that she did not mean to take a rebuff.
There was a consultation in the back room and
presently a tall muscular man entered. " Who might
you be, and what do you want?" he asked. There
was a resolute, uncompromising expression on his
face which would have intimidated a less courageous
girl.
" I am Agnes Kennedy, the daughter of the owner
of this place. My mother sent a letter to the tenant,
I suppose you are he, but perhaps you never received
58
THE UNEXPECTED 59
it. I know it is not easy to get letters to such an out-
of-the-way place."
The man eyed her sharply. " No letter came for
me. Who says you own this place ? "
" My mother owns it because it was her father's. I
have the deed for it. It was my grandfather's property
for years."
" Who was your grandfather ? "
" My mother is the only child of Humphrey Muir-
head."
" Who is your mother ? "
" My mother was Margaret Muirhead of Carlisle ; she
married my father, Fergus Kennedy. Her father was
killed by the Indians. You have a right to ask me all
these questions, and I will tell you that after my grand-
father died, it was found that he did not leave anything
of any account except this place. My mother wrote to
some one out here about it, and I thought you were the
one. After my grandfather Kennedy died, my mother
urged my father to come out here and take this place,
and she will come later. He is back in the settlement,
but he is not well, and I came to take possession myself
in my mother's name. I think we can be very comfort-
able here," Agnes went on, " though I am sorry the
house is not larger," she added, beginning to recognize
the unresponsiveness of the man, " but of course you
can stay here till you can build another. It will not
take long, you know."
60 A GENTLE PIONEER
The man gave a mocking laugh. " It will take a
longer time than you will ever see, my young miss.
You will have to travel back the way you came. This
place is more mine than yours. Possession is nine
points of the law. Here I am and here I mean to stay.
You may have the deed, but I've got the place, and it
will take more than one slip of a girl to get it from
me."
Agnes was speechless with amazement at what she
considered the audacity of the man. " You dare to say
that ? " she cried, recovering her courage. " You have
no right to live here at all. It is as much robbery for
you to do such a thing as to keep what belongs to
another."
The man's face darkened. "Take care," he said.
"You'd better be more civil. I'll not be contradicted by
a chit of a girl."
" And I'll not be threatened by you," retorted Agnes,
all her blood up. "You have not the slightest right
here except you were allowed by mother to come. You
surely have not been here long enough to claim the
place in any such way as that."
" I don't make my claim any such way. You haven't
a notion of who I am, I suppose."
" You are the man whom my mother allowed to live
here till she should come and take her own."
" I am not the one who is allowed here ; I am the one
who belongs here, and your grandfather knew it. It
THE UNEXPECTED 6l
was a foolish move of yours, young woman, to come
out here. Better let sleeping dogs lie. Was there
nobody to give you better advice ? "
" I didn't ask any. I came because father couldn't.
We have travelled away out here to get this place that
my grandfather left, and we are going to have it."
The man regarded her gloomily. " I don't doubt
you're who you say you are," he said at last. " Your
mother was your grandfather's only child, I believe you
told me. I suppose he always told her that."
" There was no need. She was the first-born, and no
sisters nor brothers came to her."
" Your grandfather's papers were looked into, I sup-
pose. There was no will ? "
" No ; father said no doubt he meant to make one. He
had spoken of it several times, but as my mother was
the only child, there seemed no need, and father said
the law would give everything to mother anyhow, and it
was all very plain. Grandfather left some papers in
father's hands when he last came to Carlisle, and the
deed was among them."
The man smiled grimly. "Well, young woman, I
have just this piece of advice to give you. Go back
where you came from. You will have to stay here to-
night, but to-morrow I'll drive you to Mayo, and you
and your father can travel back east the best way you
can get there. I don't often give away anything for
nothing, but I'm going to give this advice free, and
62 A GENTLE PIONEER
you'd better take it if you know what is good for
you."
" And if I don't take it ? "
" Then you'll have to take the consequences, which
will not be pleasant."
Agnes shook her head, but stood considering before
she spoke again. " There is not a thing to be afraid
of," she told herself. " I don't know why this man is
trying to scare me, but one thing I do know, and that is
that there is no reason why we should give up our
rights. I should think my father ought to know what
belongs to us and what doesn't." " Now," turning to
the man, " who are you, that you insist upon staying on
this place which you know does not belong to you ? "
The man drew himself up to his full height. He
towered above the girl and looked down at her with
an expression of bitter resentment. " My name is
Humphrey Muirhead," he said. " I am your grand-
father's eldest child."
Agnes started back as this announcement was made,
her first feeling being one of sharp indignation. " No,
no," she cried, " I cannot believe you."
The man smiled sardonically but gave no reply.
"No," continued Agnes, excitedly; "it is not true.
You may have fooled your neighbors and have pre-
tended to them that you are a son of Humphrey
Muirhead, but I surely 'should know. Why, I have
seen the family Bible with my own eyes and have
THE UNEXPECTED 63
read the records my grandfather's marriage and my
mother's birth. It is out of the question for you to
be my mother's brother. You are assuming my grand-
father's name for the purpose of holding this property.
I say you are not Humphrey Muirhead."
" It ain't worth while to get so worked up," said the
man, slowly, " and it ain't worth while to call names.
I'm no impostor. People around here know that. Ask
Dod Hunter; he knew your grandfather; he knew,
too, when he came out here, and that he married my
mother straight and honest. I am the first-born, not
your mother."
Agnes paled before this statement. " No, no," she
still protested.
"Yes," emphatically declared the man. "I won't
go into particulars ; they're not pleasant. Both of 'em
are dead now. Anyhow, he was a young fellow, not
more than eighteen, and she was the daughter of a
backwoodsman, pretty fiery, wouldn't stand being
driven, didn't like your grandfather's perticuler ways,
and at last she run off and left him. I was a couple
of years old then. Your grandfather saw me just once
after thet. I found him out, but we didn't hit it off.
I've got a temper like my mother's and I did some big
talking, so he ordered me out of the house and "
The man paused and clenched his fist, " I'm his son
for all that, and I'll have my rights."
Agnes's eyes were fixed on the speaker. She scanned
64 A GENTLE PIONEER
his countenance slowly, and detected a slight resem-
blance to her mother about the eyes and brow, though
she was reluctant to admit it even to herself. " Show
me your proofs," she whispered. " I will believe when
I see them."
The man left the room, and the girl stood with
bowed head and hands tightly clasped, her whole
attitude one of rigid self-control. She remained thus
till the man returned and handed her two papers.
One was a certificate of marriage between Humphrey
Muirhead and Ellen Doyle; the other was a letter in
her grandfather's own handwriting and bearing his
signature. This letter asked his young wife to return
to him with the child.
"Then it wasn't grandfather's fault," exclaimed
Agnes.
"That's neither here nor there," the man said,
frowning. " I'm who I say I am."
" I see that, but even if you are, the half of this
place is my mother's, isn't it ? I claim our share of
the property." Two bright spots were burning in the
girl's cheeks. She was herself again, ready for defiance,
for action.
" Your share ! " The words broke forth in an angry
growl. " Haven't you been living in comfort all these
years? Haven't you had my father's money spent on
you all? This place is mine. You have had your
share, and I will fight for my own."
THE UNEXPECTED 65
" So will I," replied the girl. " I shall have to stay
here awhile, I suppose, but to-morrow I will go back to
my father and my friends, and if there is any justice in
the land, I will have it."
" I'm a right pleasant neighbor at times, I am told,"
returned Humphrey Muirhead, sarcastically. "You'll
enjoy having an uncle near at hand. Uncles can be
pretty worrisome, you'll find out before you get
through."
Agnes made no reply, but thoughts of the tales she
had heard of wicked uncles flashed into her mind.
She remembered the Babes in the Woods and the
little princes in the Tower. It was plain that she had
gained nothing by defiance, and she half wished that
she had been more conciliatory. After all, it was hard
that her grandfather's own son must be her enemy.
She looked up half wistfully, but Humphrey Muirhead
bent a hard, steely glance upon her. " I mean fight,"
he said.
Agnes drew herself up haughtily, regretting her
softer feeling. "Then we will not talk about it," she
made answer. " I shall have to wait here till I am
sent for, but I can wait outside."
Humphrey Muirhead stepped to the door and called
his wife. " Here, Judy," he said, " this is my niece.
You never knew I had one, did ye ? Well, I have,
and we're terrible fond of each other since we dis-
covered we are related. She's going to stay here till
66 A GENTLE PIONEER
some one comes for her. You kin give her something
to eat." And he left the room.
Agnes stood looking helplessly at the woman before
her, a meek, broken-spirited creature. " I am sorry I
have to stay," Agnes began. " I didn't understand
when I came. I will not trouble you but a little
while."
"Oh, 'tain't no trouble," Mrs. Muirhead replied.
" I'm real glad to see you. We never had none o'
his folks to see us before. He never would talk
about them. I guess you favor the Muirheads, for
you ain't much like him, an' they say he's his mother
over again. Won't you come and set in the other
room by the fire ? "
Agnes acquiesced silently, and for the next hour
she gave herself to the task of entertaining the poor
little woman, who did her best to make her guest
comfortable, and who evidently was greatly pleased
at receiving a visit from so interesting a person.
The children were too shy to be in the way, and
Agnes felt too perturbed to do more than try to keep
up her conversation with her hostess.
Humphrey Muirhead did not again make his appear-
ance, a consideration which Agnes had not expected
would be shown her. " He's in one of his tempers,"
Mrs. Muirhead told her. " I'm glad enough when he
keeps away at such times. Some one from the
Hunters' will come over for you, did you say ? I can't
THE UNEXPECTED 6/
see, even if he is mad, why he didn't make you stay
here with us. I don't 'see many women folks," she
added wistfully.
Agnes shook her head. "There will be no more
visiting, Mrs. Muirhead. I made a mistake in coming
at all."
Mrs. Muirhead looked disappointed, but she had long
ago given up protests, and took the matter meekly.
She stood watching, a dispirited, bent, little figure, as
Agnes set out for Dod Hunter's under the protection
of the young man who came for her in due course of
time.
It was about three miles to this next place, and Dod
Hunter appeared at the gate to welcome the girl. " I
did not dream I should have such a set-back," began
Agnes, "and I didn't think I should have to ask you to
take me in. I thought of course I could stay at at
the other place."
"You are more than welcome, my lass," returned
Dod, " and I am at your service any time you like."
" Can you spare me a little time now ? "
"As well as not." He motioned her to a seat on a
fallen log.
"This is good," said Agnes. "I would rather talk
out here. I love to be out of doors. This is a beauti-
ful country, and I don't wonder that my grandfather
settled here. It is about my grandfather that I want
to talk, Uncle Dod. You knew him ? "
68 A GENTLE PIONEER
" So he was your grandfather ? Yes, I knew him
well. We were good friends "when he came out here
nigh to forty year ago. If you think it's wild now,
what would you have thought it then ? You oughter
hev seen it, not a path but what the Injuns made, and
skeerce a neighbor for twenty mile. Them was real
pioneer times. These ain't shucks to 'em, though the
folks 'at come out from the east think they're gittin'
into the heart of the forest. They're too many comin'
to call it wild now."
"I can't imagine it much wilder," said Agnes,
" though it is much more settled here than off yonder,
where we first went. You knew of my grandfather's
first marriage ? "
Dod Hunter looked at her askance before he pro-
ceeded. " Yes, I knew."
" Tell me, please. Do you know, we never dreamed
of such a thing. If mother knew, she never told me."
" She didn't know. He didn't mean she should."
" She always thought she was grandfather's only
child. Please tell me all you know about it. I have
heard Humphrey Muirhead's story, and I would like
to hear yours."
" Well, it was this way. Your grandfather came out
here in the airly days, as I told you. Wanted adven-
ture, I suppose. He got it, plenty of it. One day
when he was out hunting, he got hurt and was carried
to Doyle's. Ellen nursed him. She was a pretty girl,
THE UNEXPECTED 69
wild as a hawk, high tempered, independent, and well,
she did about as she pleased always ; and she got tired of
Humphrey Muirhead after a while liked her father's
home better, and left her husband because it pleased
her to. They wa'n't nothing but children, the pair of
'em, at best. He would have taken her back, but she
wouldn't go and raised Cain generally. She died when
the boy was about five year old. He was well rid of
her, and after a year he married your grandmother.
Ellen's people kept the boy, but your grandfather sup-
ported him and would have done well by him if he'd
been let."
" Thank you," said Agnes, softly, when the tale was
finished. " It is good to know grandfather was not to
blame."
" No, he wa'n't ; he was took in. Some folks might
think he ought not to have given up the boy, but what's
a young fellow with no special home to do with a baby,
I'd like to know. Then when he did have a home the
grandmother made such a racket that he let her keep
him. Besides, it was a long ways off where his folks
was, and travellin' in them days wa'n't as easy as it is
now, and you can't say it's any too easy gettin' here as
it is."
" No, grandfather wasn't to blame," Agnes repeated.
"And so this man Humphrey Muirhead," Agnes
hesitated before she spoke the name, " he has a right
to be where he is, and we can claim only half."
70 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Humphrey Muirhead's an ugly enemy. If you can
get along without any of it, you would do well."
" I don't see how we can. Father is so so helpless,
and I don't see how we can get along without just this.
The man Muirhead thinks we have had our share
because of all that has been done for mother these
years ; it hasn't been very much, I am sure."
Dod Hunter wheeled around sharply. " The ras-
cal ! He said that, did he ? I suppose nothing has
been done for him. The reason your grandfather left
so little is because a good pile of his money went to
help his son out of his scrapes. By rights you ought
to have everything."
" Oh, is it that way ? I am glad to know about that.
Now, Uncle Dod, it will be some time before the busi-
ness is settled, but I mean to live in this country. I
want to learn how best to manage, so we can be com-
fortable when mother comes, and I want to send for
her as soon as possible. I shall ask Mr. M'Clean what
he thinks it is best to do, but I do not want to go back
now, for we've really nothing to go back to, and there's
plenty of land to be had for very little. Couldn't we
get a little spot somewhere, and live on that till we can
get this Muirhead place settled ? I did so hope we could
send for mother and the children right away." She
gave a little sigh, for it seemed as if this dear hope
were now farther away than ever.
Dod Hunter watched her for a moment. She was so
THE UNEXPECTED 71
young and, it seemed, so helpless. He shook his head.
" I don't think you'd better go anywhere alone with
your father. We're not quite as far in the backwoods
as we used to be, but it is a pretty hard place, after all,
and it needs strong men and strong women. Better go
back to your father's kin."
" Oh, no, no ; that is not to be thought of. You
don't know, but it would never do. Some way can be
managed, I think. You need not tell any one, but I'm
going to have our share of that place before I get
through."
Dod Hunter laughed. " You're spunky, but you
don't know Hump Muirhead."
" Oh ! if father were only himself, it would be all
right. I wish I knew what was to be done."
" First thing you do is to go back to Joe M'Clean's.
He's not going to begrutch ye a place to sleep and a bit
to eat. Both you and yer father airn it. Ye work
hard, an' we've a right to help each other in this
country; if we didn't, some of us would have a poor
show." So Agnes agreed to accept this advice and
wait for time to bring about some plan for the future.
She remained with the Hunters that night, and the next
day saw her back again with the M 'Cleans to whom she
told her story. But to her father she said nothing.
He would be Bewildered in trying to puzzle out the
facts and could do nothing to help her.
" I think ye'll juist have to let the matter go, Agnes,"
72 A GENTLE PIONEER
Joseph M'Clean told her. " I'm no so sure but the
eldest son doesn't get the estate by right of the law
of primogeniture, and there's no use fightin' when it's
not necessary. If your grandfather had made a will,
leavin' his property to your mother, that would be
another thing. Juist let it rest, lass, and bide here till
we can think out what is best for ye."
So Agnes submitted, and though she chafed under
the long delay, .she was very grateful to these good
friends who were ,so anxious for her welfare and that of
her father. It was quite true that she earned her board,
for she worked with the others and gave a hand wher-
ever there was a need, indoors or out, and her father did
likewise, so that the M'Clean clearing soon became a
very habitable place.
CHAPTER V
POLLY
BUT it was not long before an event occurred
which decided Agnes to make other plans. All
through the winter she had been content to stay with
her father at the new home of the M'Cleans, but as
spring was nearing, the desire was strong upon her to
possess the home to which her mother and the children
should come. Her father, quiet and indifferent, worked
steadily at whatever came to hand ; but he rarely spoke,
and if asked to give an opinion, looked bewildered and
helpless. " Will he always be so ? " thought Agnes,
" and must we stay on this way month after month ? "
Then one day appeared Polly O'Neill.
Jeanie and Agnes were busy in the garden getting it
ready for the first crop of vegetables, when through
the trees which fringed the river they saw some one
coming, and a voice called: "Joe M ' Clean ! Jeanie!
Nancy ! Are you all there ? "
"It sounds like Polly O'Neill," cried Agnes, drop-
ping her hoe. Jeanie followed her example, and the
two ran down the little path leading to the river. " It's
Polly herself and the children ! " cried Agnes.
73
74 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Faith, then, it is," came the reply from the ap-
proaching figure, who, with a child under each arm
and two at her heels, was making her way toward
them.
"Why, Polly, Polly, how did you get here?" ex-
claimed the girls in a breath.
" I kim by the river. I beeta come that way."
" Of course you would have to do that, but where is
Jimmy ? "
Polly set down her children and wiped her eyes with
the back of her hand. " Faith, thin, I'm a lone woman.
Jimmy's been took be the Injuns, and whether I'll see
him agin or not, I'll niver tell. The sittlemint's broke
up an' ivery mother's son av 'em has scattered, so I
followed along an' kern this way with others. I dunno
will I iver see Jimmy agin, but I'm not beyant hopin' I
will. Annyway, he'll know where to find me, for I left
worrud."
" Why, if they are all gone, how could you leave
word?"
" I did thin. I got Johnny McCormick to write a
bit on a board, an' I planted it where the cabin was, an'
if Jimmy comes back, he'll see it."
" Oh, poor Polly ! I do hope he will come. But
now come right in and see mother," Jeanie urged.
" How the baby has grown ! It is good to see you
all again."
That night the little cabin of the M'Clean's was full
POLLY
to overflowing, but these pioneers considered it a part
of their duty to give a helping hand to whomever might
come along, and there was no limit to their simple hos-
pitality. Yet it seemed to Agnes that now, when the
resources of the family were taxed to their utmost, she
must seek another home, and she tried to consult her;
father upon the subject. But he would only mildly
acquiesce to anything that she proposed, and therefore
to Polly Agnes took her trouble.
" Father is able to work," she told her, "but he seems
to have no will, and would as lief do one thing as another.
Oh, Polly, what shall I do ? If my mother were here, we
could take up land and build a little house ; the neigh-
bors would help, and soon Sandy would be big enough
to take charge of things with our planning, and we could
all be so comfortable. But they will not let me go off
with him alone."
"Why not jine foorces with Polly O'Neill if ye can
stand the children's clatter ? I'm no for biding with Joe
M 'Clean longer than I kin gather me wits."
" Oh, Polly, that would be a fine thing. We could go
together, and I could furnish a man's work if not his
judgment. Oh, Polly, you have thought of the right
thing!"
"Ye see, I'm much in your fix, Nancy, and I've been
wonderin' what would I do, an' ye see it'll be doin* a
turn for ye all at the same time I'm betterin* mesel'.
Now, I'll tell ye what's to be done : ye'll get yer father
76 A GENTLE PIONEER
to take up a bit of land ; ye'll have to go with him to
see that he does it all straight an' true, an* we'll build a
bit of a cabin and live as commojus as a litter o' pigs."
Agnes laughed. " I'd like to live a little better than
that."
" Sure, then, I'm not sayin' we'll not live cleaner."
" And when we get our share of the Muirhead place,
you can keep the cabin. Oh, I must tell you all about
the Muirheads."
Polly listened attentively to the tale. " Ye'll be havin'
a puir chanst av gettln' it," she said, " for the law, I'm
thinkin', '11 give it to the son if so be there's no will.
Ye'd better put the notion out of yer head, Nancy.
We'll stand by one another, an' if my Jimmy comes
back, I'll no object to goin' anny where he may be
choosin'."
Agnes thought the chances of Jimmy's coming back
were no better than the chances of getting the Muir-
head property, but she did not say so, though for all
that Polly mourned the loss of her husband, she was
outwardly the same fun-loving, jolly creature. She
entered into the new scheme with much zest, and pushed
it so vigorously that before six weeks were gone, Agnes
found herself established in a comfortable little abode
on the other side of the river from the Muirhead place,
but not very far from the M' Cleans. Every one of the
neighbors gave a willing hand to the log-rolling, the
house-raising, and the getting of the two families settled.
POLLY 77-
Fergus Kennedy, in his mild way, seemed to enjoy it all,
though the dread of Indians seemed to overpower him
now and then, and then he became pitifully dependent
upon Polly and Agnes. He worked at whatever task
they set him, and as Polly was a master hand at manag-
ing, the little clearing soon took on an inhabited look.
The children tumbled about on the puncheon floor, the
big chimney-place showed a cheerful fire over which
pots of various sizes bubbled and steamed, Polly's spin-
ning-wheel whirred in the corner to Agnes's busy tread,
and the whole place in an incredibly short space of
time gave the appearance of thrift and energy.
Archie M' Clean came over whenever he could spare
the time, and Dod Hunter's eldest son, Jerry, admiring
Polly's energy and wit, made frequent excuses to drop
in to see how they were getting along, to help with the
garden, or to bring in a haunch of venison or a wild
turkey. Every one recognized the fact that Fergus
Kennedy was not an efficient protector, but no one
doubted the fact that Polly was. Agnes, auburn haired,
blue eyed, fair skinned, was undeniably a girl to be
admired by the stalwart young frontiersmen, and when
she set out with Polly to any of the rude entertainments
the settlement afforded, there was never a lack of an
escort. It was a great event when a little log meeting-
house was erected by these pious Scotch-Irish, and the
going to meeting meant as much to the younger people
as to their elders, though perhaps not in quite the same
78 A GENTLE PIONEER
way. The children, to be sure, rather dreaded the rigid
discipline of sitting still through exceedingly long prayers
and still longer sermons, but this exercise of self-control
was to their advantage, and they liked the psalms, which
because of the scarcity of psalm-books were lined out by
Joseph M' Clean, who was precentor. The psalms were
sung with great heartiness by young and old to the
"Twelve common tunes," though singing-masters farther
east were beginning to introduce newer ones, thereby
causing some dissension.
It was one Saturday afternoon that Archie appeared
more spruced up than usual. His hair was sleeked
down with bear's oil, and his hunting-shirt was adorned
with embroidery done with porcupine quills. Polly saw
him coming and laughed. " Faith, but ye beeta look
fine, Archie," she cried. " It's no the Sabbath yet, but
yer rigged up to the nines, and strut like a turkey-
gobbler."
Archie flushed under his sunburn, but he answered
Polly's sally with, "It's no so far from the Sabbath
Polly, an' ye'd better be catechising the children, so
they'll know what's the chief end o' man when the new
meenister visits ye."
" Now hear him ! " Polly cried. " Is it a meenister
himsel' that is spakin' ? Land o' love, Nancy, see the
solemn countenance av the lad. He's come to tell us
that he's off to study for the meenistry, an' that's why
he's so prinked out. I'll be gettin' me dye kittle ready,
POLLY 79
Archie dear, to color yer blacks fur ye ; ye'll soon be
needin' 'em."
Agnes came to the door where the two were standing.
She was a little flushed from having been over the fire.
"You're pranked beyond a doubt, Archie," she said.
" What's the occasion ? "
Archie looked embarrassed. " It's no occasion, Nancy,
except I came over to see you, and ask you to go to
church with me to-morrow. Father has a new horse,
and I'll take you on the pillion."
Agnes put her head to one side rather shyly, as she
glanced at Polly. "There's father," she said. "He
loves to go to church, and he will miss me."
"I'll see to your father fast enough, if that's all,"
Polly answered, " but maybe ye'll not be well dressed
enough for this fine gentleman, Nancy."
" Ah, now, Polly," expostulated Archie, " you'd better
stop your nonsense. Agnes looks well dressed in what-
ever she wears."
"In
* Linsey-woolsey petticoat,
And lappet cotton gown,
Shoes and stockings in her hand,
But barefoot on the ground,' "
sang Polly. "Ye'll not even wet yer good shoes by
ridin', Nancy, and I'd advise ye to take the lift when ye
ken git it." And so Agnes promised that she would
go with Archie, secretly wishing that she had a new ker-
80 A GENTLE PIONEER
chief and that her best bonnet was of something better
than " six hundred" linen.
" Ye'll come in and have a sup with us," said Polly to
Archie ; " that is, if so fine a body kin set down with our
linsey-woolsey, and it's no pewter we have, but juist
wooden bowls and trenchers."
" As if I didn't know," returned Archie, with some
annoyance. " And that reminds me, I fetched you over
a set of bowls I've been making. They are of good ash
knots and as hard as a bullet. I left 'em out here where
your father is working, Nancy."
" Run along with him and get them," said Polly, giv-
ing Agnes a good-natured shove, " and I'll be takin' up
the mush whilst ye tell yer father to come in." ,She
stood a moment looking after the youth and the maid as
they went off together. With all her rough heartiness
and shrewd common sense, Polly was sentimental and
she loved Agnes as a younger sister. " They're a likely
looking pair," she said to herself. " I hope they'll hit
it off, though I'm no so sure o' Nancy. She's far too
unconscious-like when Archie's around. He's a good
lad, though a bit too serious. Faith, he'd make a good
meenister or a schoolmaster if he had the larnin'." She
turned into the house while Archie and Agnes went on
through the clearing to where Fergus Kennedy was at
work in the little garden.
" I saw that Hump Muirhead yesterday," said Archie.
" Where ? Did you speak to him ? "
POLLY 8 1
" No. He was over by M'Clintock's. He was boast-
ing that you'd never set foot on the place again. He
says it's his by right of his being the eldest and the
son, and your mother would have no chance at court
unless she had a will to produce to prove a claim, and
there's nobody can contradict that. I'd like to be able
to oust him, but if anybody tried it, he would make it
bad for them, for he is capable of doing anything, they
say, and nobody can gainsay that he hasn't his right by
being the eldest. So I'm afraid you'll have to give it
up, Agnes."
" Oh, how I hate to. I know my grandfather would
never have told my mother that she would have that
piece of property if he hadn't have meant to leave it
to her. I should like to get the best of him. Oh, I
should."
" So would I, but I think I'd fight shy of him. They
say he's a bad one if you get his ill-will, and he will
harm you if he can, and it worries me, Agnes to have
you you in danger."
" Oh, I'm safe enough. I'm not afraid of anybody
but the Indians, and they are not so troublesome about
here where it is more thickly settled. I like to have
you call me Agnes, Archie. 'Most everybody says
Nancy."
" I know you like it."
" And that's why you do it ? Good boy. Don't say
anything to father about Humphrey Muirhead ; it will
82 A GENTLE PIONEER
only confuse him, for he will try to remember, and you
know he can't. We'll bide here awhile, anyhow, until "
" Until I'm twenty-one," interrupted Archie, coolly,
"and then I will have a home for you."
Agnes bit her lip ; she had not meant to bring up that
subject. But she thought it well not to answer, and hur-
ried on to where her father was busy. " Father, sup-
per's ready," she called cheerily. " Time to stop work.
Saturday evening, you know, and to-morrow we go to
meeting."
"Yes, yes, lass. I'm ready," he returned, straighten-
ing himself up. " To-morrow '11 be the Sabbath ? I
didn't mind that; I'm glad ye told me."
" Here's Archie."
"Archie?"
"Yes, Archie M'Clean, Joseph M'Clean's son."
" Oh, yes ; Joe M'Clean's son. Glad to see ye, my lad."
It was hard for him to remember Archie from time to
time, but the lad never minded and always repeated his
answers patiently to the often recurring questions.
"Archie has brought us a nest of bowls," said Agnes.
"Where did you put them, Archie?" He produced
them from where he had laid them behind a hollow
stump, and they were duly admired. A nest of such
bowls as Archie could make from knots of the ash tree
was something of a possession, and his art in making
them gave him quite a name for cleverness, for few had
his accomplishment of turning them.
POLLY 83
" I've put up a fine sweep at our place," Archie told
them, " and you'll be bringing your corn over, won't
you, Agnes ? All the neighbors are at it, and keep it
going steadily, but you shall have your turn, and I will
grind all you need."
" How good and kind you are," Agnes returned.
" When the corn gets hard, it is pretty heavy work for
us. The grater does well enough now while the corn is
tender, for you made us such a good one. You remem-
ber, father, it was Archie who made our grater, and
now he has made a sweep at his father's, and will grind
our corn for us if we take it over."
Her father nodded thoughtfully, not being quite sure
of himself. He remembered the grater in daily use to
prepare the meal for the family, but the maker of the
crude little implement was not so familiar an object.
Carrying the bowls and Fergus Kennedy's hoe,
Archie strode along by the side of the two, Agnes
secretly admiring his fine appearance, though she did
not intend to let him know it. He, meanwhile, thought
no one could look as pretty as Agnes ; her soft auburn
hair curled around her neck, and though she was rosy
from sunburn and a crop of little freckles freely be-
sprinkled her nose and cheeks, her forehead was purely
white, artd her throat, too. She carried her sunbonnet
in her hand, and her feet, scratched and brown, were
minus shoes and stockings. In the cold weather she
had her shoepacks and moccasins, but now in the sum-
84 A GENTLE PIONEER
mer she must go barefooted like the rest of her friends.
She was thankful that she was wearing, at the time
their first cabin was burned, the only pair of shoes she
had brought from home. These were saved for great
occasions, and she thought of them with satisfaction, as
she remembered that she could wear them to church the
next day.
" There is a newcomer in the neighborhood," Archie
told them all at the table, between his mouthfuls of
mush and milk "gape and swallow," Polly called it.
" And who is the stranger ? " Agnes asked.
" A young man, David Campbell."
" And what is he like ? Where has he come from ?
Where will he settle ? "
" Hear the lass's questions," laughed Polly. " Ye'll
be takin' them wan be wan, Archie. Firstly, what is
he like ? Under this head come his features, his hair
and eyes "
Agnes shook her head. "Ah, but Polly, you are
almost sacreleegious with your firstly and your heads."
" I ? Not a mite. Can no one but a meenister be
sayin' firstly and secondly, and so on up to seventhly ? "
"Don't bother with her, Archie; go on and tell us.
I'm curious to know."
" As if that needed tellin'," continued Polly, bent on
teasing.
Archie's grave smile was his only reply to Polly's
words, then he went on to say : " He's no so tall, but
POLLY 85
broad shouldered ; sandy hair and blue eyes he has.
He's rather a quiet-spoken man, but energetic, and
seeming honest and weel intentioned."
" Ah ! " Agnes was suddenly thoughtful. Presently
she laughed outright. " Has Jeanie seen him ? "
"Yes, he was twice over in the past week. He's
thinking of settling down the other side of Gilfillan's."
" Has he a wife to follow him ? "
" No; he's but himself."
" Ah ! " Polly was disappointed. " Then there'll be
no housewarming."
"Not yet. He'll put up a bit of a shanty for shelter
and do better later on."
" I'm that anxious to see him," Agnes said. " I've
a reason for it. Ah, but, I'll be glad to see Jeanie
to-morrow." Her eyes danced and the dimples played
around the corners of her mouth as she spoke.
"Tell me what's your consate, dear," said Polly,
coaxingly. "Ye've something that's a sacret."
"No, I'll not tell." Agnes shook her head. "You
charged me with curiosity, Polly O'Neill, and I'll not
satisfy yours. Who's curious now ? Come early," she
called to Archie, as he started away, " for I want to
have a word with Jeanie before we go into the meeting-
house, and I want to see this David Campbell."
Archie nodded, though to tell the truth he was a
little troubled by Agnes's eagerness to meet the new-
comer. Suppose she should fancy him. Archie had
86 A GENTLE PIONEER
never been jealous before, but it must be said that even
the elegance of his attire failed to bring him comfort as
he trudged through the woods toward his home.
Even the next morning he had an uneasy feeling that
Agnes's excitement on the way to church was not due
to her being impressed by the honor of riding with him
upon the new horse, but because of David Campbell's
appearance in the neighborhood.
" You're overmerry for the Sabbath," he said once,
reprovingly, and was sorry a moment after the speech,
because it had exactly the effect he feared.
" Then I'll meditate upon my shortcomings the rest of
the way," Agnes retorted. " You'll no need to address
your remarks to me again, Archie M' Clean. I'll take
your meenisterial advice and hold self-communion."
And Archie, feeling that he had brought the situa-
tion upon himself, was obliged to continue his way in
silence, and the slight hold of Agnes's hand around his
waist was the sole solace he had. He had counted so
much upon this ride, and to have it turn out thus by his
own hasty speech was too much. All the bravery of
his new garments went for nothing. He longed to
apologize, but his stubborn Scotch pride prevented him,
and so they rode on in silence till they were in sight of
the meeting-house. Then Archie ventured to lay his
fingers for one moment upon Agnes's hand, but she
withdrew her hold, and he was aware that he had
offended in this, too. He turned to look at her, but
POLLY 87
the blue eyes were obstinately cast down. Agnes, too,
possessed her share of Scotch pride.
They stopped before the cleared space where little
groups of people stood. As Archie dismounted he saw
that Agnes's eyes were busy in looking over the arri-
vals. It was evident that there was no forgiveness for
him unless he asked it. He raised his eyes to the
girl as he lifted her down, but there was nothing but
cold disdain in hers. " Ye'll no hold my remark
against me," he whispered. " I was vexed for no
reason but because ye were so eager to see David
Campbell."
" Was that it ? " Agnes gave him a smile, for, woman-
like, the reason of the offence wiped out the seriousness
of the offence itself, and, as she rested her hand lightly
on his shoulder while she dismounted, she nodded,
"I'll forgive you if you'll point out David Camp-
bell."
" There he is, over by Sam Gilfillan." *
" I see him. I hope you enjoyed your ride ; I did.
I'm going to find Jeanie now."
She was not long in seeking Jeanie out, and she
quickly drew her to one side. " I want to show you
something, Jeanie. Come over here." She was so
dimpling with repressed amusement that Jeanie fol-
lowed, wondering. " Do you see that man over by the
sycamore tree ? " she asked. " The one talking to Sam
Gilfillan, I mean."
88 A GENTLE PIONEER
"Yes, I see him. It is David Campbell. How do
you come to know him ? "
" I don't know him. He's the one, Jeanie."
"The one? What?"
"That you are to marry. Isn't he just as I de-
scribed ? "
" Oh, Agnes ! " Jeanie turned scarlet. " You naughty
girl."
" Well, then, he is. Not so very tall, sandy hair, blue
eyes, quiet. What have you to say ? "
" That you are a witch."
" And you'll lend me nothing if I come to borrow."
" I'll lend you anything."
" Except David Campbell ; I may want to borrow him
sometimes."
Jeanie was about to speak, but just then the minister
appeared, and a decorous line of worshippers entered
the little meeting-house. What it was that Jeanie
meant to say Agnes did not find out; but it was
quite true that during the long service Jeanie stole
more than one glance at David Campbell.
CHAPTER VI
JEANIE'S SECRET
THE summer would have passed happily enough
but for a rumor that there had been seen some
hostile Indians in the next settlement ; and this infor-
mation so affected Fergus Kennedy that he became
stricken with a continual fear, and was powerless to
do anything but cower, rifle in hand, in the corner
of the cabin. Brave man that he had always been,
this condition seemed the more pitiful to his friends
who had known him in his strength.
" It's not like father," Agnes told Polly, " and I don't
know what we shall do. The M 'Cleans want us to
leave here and go over to them, but who then will
look after our clearing ? "
"Jerry Hunter 'ud do it."
" Maybe he would, but I don't like to leave here just
as we are fairly settled."
" It 'ud be safer ; we're no so near to neighbors, and
your fayther so distracted." Polly pinched her chin
thoughtfully. "Then there's the childer. I'd shoot
89
90 A GENTLE PIONEER
down the redskins, and shed my last drop of blood for
'em ; but would it save 'em if the beasts came ? "
" Then you think we ought to go to the garrison
house ? "
" It would be safer. I don't care for mysel', Nancy ;
but when I think of Jimmy's childer, I can't peril them ;
for what would he say when he comes back, and finds
them gone because of their mother's foolhardiness ? "
" But I don't like the fort with the cabins so close
together, and the blockhouses so threatening and ugly.
I do love the freedom of our own clearing. I don't be-
lieve the Indians have an idea of coming here; the
settlement is too big, and it is only a rumor that they
have been seen in the neighborhood. I think we might
wait awhile and enjoy our freedom."
" Land o' mercy, Nancy ! I'm no better pleased than
you to go ; but if there's a chance of our being in dan-
ger, we must be on the safe side. I am as daring as the
next ; but I must say when we beeta have Injuns for
visitors, I want to git out."
Therefore Agnes reluctantly packed up the things
she most cared for her favorite wolfskin that Archie
had given her in place of the one she had taken such
pride in at the first settlement; a little bowl quaintly
carved, a belt ornamented with porcupine quills, and
such like things. Polly's feather-beds and the rest of
the family necessities were packed on two horses, and
the children were established in crates at the sides of
JEANIE'S SECRET 91
these beasts of burden ; and so the journey was taken
to the fort, now the centre of quite a large, though
scattered, community.
Several families, at the report of Indians near, had
come into the fort, but there was still a number of the
clearings occupied by those who did not easily take
alarm, and who waited for a confirmation of the news
before they should leave their comfortable quarters.
Jeanie insisted that Agnes should come immediately
to her, but Agnes refused to leave her father altogether,
though she spent many a day at the M'Cleans' clearing,
and there made the acquaintance of David Campbell,
who, being a near neighbor, found it convenient to drop
in often, despite the fact that Jeanie obstinately declared
that she did not like him.
" He is a good fellow," Agnes insisted, " and I don't
see why you don't like him. You must and shall,"
which was a sure way of encouraging Jeanie in her
decision not to like him.
"It is a pity Archie is your brother, for then you
could take him and give me David," said Agnes, one
day, when Jeanie had been singing Archie's praises.
"You can have David for aught I care," returned
Jeanie, bridling.
" Do you say so? Well then, I'll go with him to
meeting next Sabbath day."
"You'd better wait till he asks you," retorted
Jeanie.
92 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Oh, he'll ask me fast enough," Agnes replied, nod-
ding her head with an air of conviction.
Jeanie bit her lip but said nothing. David had asked
her and she had refused. Like most girls she was in
a contrary frame of mind when it came to a question
of meeting a lover halfway. In her secret heart she
was only too anxious to accept David's company, but
she would not have Agnes know it for the world, and
though Agnes made many sly references to the pleas-
ures to be expected upon the coming Sabbath, neither
girl was particularly jubilant when she considered it,
though of the two Agnes was the more pleased. She
had noted Jeanie's lofty expression, and laughed in her
sleeve at the success of her little plot.
Not only one but two rather disconsolate members
of the M' Clean family appeared at church the next
Sabbath day. Not relenting in her determination to
tease Jeanie, as well as to punish Archie for a fit of
sulks he had had during the week, Agnes triumphantly
had her way and led David to offer his escort. What
did she care if heretofore he had seemed to have eyes
and ears only for Jeanie ? She would let Jeanie see that
there were other girls beside herself, and it would also
raise Archie's estimation of her if he knew that she
could walk off so easily with another girl's lover, so she
argued? Very adroitly she made Jeanie the main topic
of conversation, so that David was entertained greatly,
and the two were chatting like old friends when Jeanie
JEANIE'S SECRET 93
and Archie passed them on the road. David was
always rather silent in Jeanie's company, and she felt
a jealous pang as she noticed how ready he seemed to
talk to Agnes. She gave the two a stiff little nod
as she passed, and Agnes smiled to herself. " It's all
for her own good," she thought, " and I am glad I could
make her put on that top-loftical look. As for Archie,
he looks sour enough, but I don't care." She had
learned some of Polly's saucy ways, and the toss of
her head was Polly's own. Yet when Mrs. M 'Clean
urged her and David to come home with her to supper,
the girl was nothing loath, and indeed was mischievously
curious to see how Jeanie would treat her, and to carry
further her harmless little flirtation with David.
The M'Cleans had made of their clearing one of the
most comfortable places thereabouts. Both father and
son had a genius for the mechanic arts, so that they
were well supplied with hominy blocks, hand-mills,
tanning vats, looms, and such affairs, all of their own
manufacture, and though rude and clumsy, these were
well adapted to their needs. The house was more
commodious than at first, having besides its living
room, a bedroom on the first floor and a lean-to, or
kitchen. A loft overhead gave two or three sleeping
rooms. The building, floored with smooth puncheons,
and, being well roofed and chinked, was very comfort-
able. Archie's latest achievement, a milk bucket hav-
ing staves alternately red and white, Jeanie displayed
94 A GENTLE PIONEER
with great pride, and though Agnes really thought it
beautiful, she declared that it was too gaudy.
At table a discussion of the day's services was con-
sidered proper and fit, the sermon being the chief topic
of conversation. Joseph M'Clean was still a strict
Presbyterian, and did not uphold the lapses from a
serious deportment into which so many of the pioneers
had fallen. He was bound that his own family should
be " releegious and orderly on the Sabbath, no matter
what his neighbors did," and so the Sabbath evening
was passed soberly in singing psalms, and in reading
from the Bible, and in discussing at great length the
chapters read. Archie quite warmed up to the debate,
but David had little to say, putting in only a word now
and then, his eyes between times upon Jeanie, who had
treated him with a cold scorn all day.
It was when the two girls wen! up to their loft room
to prepare for bed that Jeanie had her say. She, too,
had been very quiet, for Agnes had lured David over
to her side upon the settle, and had ignored Archie
entirely.
" I think you treat Archie too badly," said Jeanie,
shaking down her dark locks of hair.
" Oh, no, you mean I treat David too well," returned
Agnes, saucily.
" What do I care how you treat David ? "
"You care a great deal; confess that you do, and I'll
not treat him so well."
JEANIE'S SECRET 95
" I'll not confess."
"Very well, you shall be tortured till you do."
" You are a heartless girl, Nancy Kennedy."
" Indeed, then, I'm not ; I am too soft hearted."
"Then why do you turn a cold shoulder to poor
Archie?"
" ' I'm ower young to marry,' and Archie does try one
with his talk of what he means to do when he is
twenty-one."
"Just think what fine buckets and bowls he could
make you, Nancy. There would be no one anywhere
about who could make such a display as you."
"As if I'd trade my heart for a red and white
bucket; I'm not an Indian squaw to be bought with
trinkets."
" And Archie doesn't think so. It was only I who
said that. Archie is very modest."
" He's well aware of his own good traits. He will
make a good meenister, and I'm no one to hanker after
being a meenister's wife."
" You ought to feel honored if ever you are."
" Maybe, but I think, as I said before, I am ower
young." She put on an innocent, childlike expression,
and gave a side glance at Jeanie. " David can make
fine bowls, too, and he is to make me one, and, more-
over, he is going to tan a famous bearskin for me."
She gave her information carelessly and laughed at the
" Oh ! " that it extracted from Jeanie. " You must learo
96 A GENTLE PIONEER
from the Indians not to make a sound when you're
being tortured," she said calmly. " I'll tell you some-
thing else, and see if you can't do better. David's
mare goes beautifully, and I am to try her some day.
He will borrow another, and we are going to to "
She peeped around at Jeanie who had averted her head
and whose face was buried in her hands.
" You didn't make a sound," Agnes went on, trying
to unclasp her friend's closely locked fingers. "You
are getting on famously." She laughed softly as she
finally pulled away the resisting hands from Jeanie's
face. " Do you hate me, Jeanie ? "
" No," came reluctantly.
" Because it's wicked to hate people, or because it
is I, and you can't help loving me even if I do tease
you?"
Jeanie made no answer.
" Will you confess ? Will you say that you like
David better than any one in the whole wide world ? "
Jeanie shook her head decidedly.
" Peggy Wilson said that David was a fine lad, and I
was in luck to get ahead of you."
Jeanie never stirred.
" And Phil Beatty came up when we were going to
mount to ride home, and he said, ' When you give your
housewarming, Dave, count on me ; you'll be wanting
some one to help you if you're going to add to your
house soon,' and David laughed ; and when he put me
JEANIE'S SECRET 97
on the horse, I vow he squeezed my hand. I think
I like David very much, and as long as you don't care
for him why there would be nothing wrong in lik-
ing him, would there ? Now if I had tried to attract
him behind your back and without learning whether
you wanted him or not, that would be another thing,
and it would be too dishonorable to think of, but as it is
let me see he is twenty and I am now sixteen ; in
another year I might like him well enough. Do we
look well together, Jeanie ? I ask only on my own
account, since you don't admire David. David it is
a nice name, isn't it ? Mrs. David Campbell, I wonder
how I should like to be known as that."
Jeanie sprang to her feet, and flung Agnes's hand
from her. " You are a mean, aggravating girl. I don't
love you, if you want to know. I wish I had never seen
you." And she burst into tears.
" Now, haven't I gone and done it ! " exclaimed
Agnes. " But still now don't cry, Jeanie still if you
don't care for David, why can't you let me have him ? "
" I do care," sobbed Jeanie, "if that satisfies you if
you like to be a fiendish Indian and torture my secrets
out of me."
" Was it a secret ? "
"You know it was. You know you had no right to
tease it out of me when I didn't want to tell it. You
know it was cruel."
" I didn't know. I forgot you might want to keep it
98 A GENTLE PIONEER
even from me, and that I hadn't any right to make you
tell me. I forgot everything except that I was bound
to make you acknowledge that I had prophesied truly.
I did that," she added, half in triumph, though she was
really much subdued. She went close to Jeanie, and
attempted to put her arm around her friend, but Jeanie
pushed her away. Agnes grew more penitent as she
realized how deeply she had offended, and she stood
the picture of contrition. " I'm so sorry, Jeanie," she
said, after a pause in which only Jeanie's sobs could be
heard. " I'll never, never tell any one. I will not,
truly. I see now I was very wicked to tease you so,
but I know David likes you better than anybody, and
please be friends and I'll tell you why he seemed to like
being with me I talked about you all the time."
At this Jeanie raised her head. " Are you telling me
the truth, Nancy ? "
" Of course I am. You shouldn't say that even if I
have teased you. You know I always tell the truth."
" How came you to think of that of talking about
me ? "
" Because " It was Agnes's turn to hang her
head. "You said once when you wanted to please
Archie and get him to do anything for you that you
had but to talk of me."
" Then now tell me the truth, since you know my
secret do you like Archie ? "
"Yes I like him, but I do not like to think of
JEANIE'S SECRET 99
marrying any one. I will not think of it till I see my
mother again."
" But we are as old as our mothers were when they
were married."
" Yes, and older than Polly, who was but fifteen, and
is now only twenty-four. But I want to wait, so don't
fash me about it, Jeanie, till my mother comes. I am
in no haste."
" No more am I, though I I "
"Yes, I know; you you will wait for David, and
you will not have long to wait if you but give him half a
chance."
At this Jeanie put her arms around Agnes and peace
was concluded, Agnes feeling that though she had
gained her point, it was at the sorry cost of a bit of her
own self-respect, and she felt ashamed at having pressed
Jeanie so hard as to make her give up the secret which
was her own dear girlish dream. She determined at once
that she would do all that she could to make matters
easy for the pair, and that they should never have
reason to reproach her for a lack of friendship.
The Indian alarm came to nothing, yet because of
her father Agnes was glad to stay at the fort all sum-
mer, though she longed for the little cabin and for the
time when her mother should come. How long it
seemed since she left her old home and started forth
to this new Ohio country. It had been a month or
more since she had been down to the little clearing
100 A GENTLE PIONEER
to which she and Polly hoped soon to return, for now
the cold weather would soon set in and the danger
from Indians would be over. Archie, who had ridden
by frequently, reported all in good order, and they
concluded that Jerry Hunter must be there, as Archie
had seen smoke coming from the chimney on more
than one occasion. " I didn't go in," he told Agnes,
"for it seemed all in first-rate condition."
" That's good to know," Agnes returned. " I
dreaded to see it looking dilapidated, and, besides, "
she hesitated, " I didn't know but that Humphrey Muir-
head might have tried to do some damage to the place,
knowing we were away."
" I don't know that he does know it ; he has been
keeping pretty quiet lately. I suppose he feels safe,
and knows that you will not trouble him again."
" I wish I could."
Archie smiled. " It would only be worse for you if
you did. Faith, Agnes, in this country where there's
land enough, and to spare, why do you hanker after
Naboth's vineyard?"
" If it were Naboth's vineyard, I wouldn't hanker,
for I'd have no right to, but I feel, and always shall
feel, that grandfather intended my mother to have that
place. It is the best about here. He put time and
money in it, and the house is such a good roomy one,
while the farm is cleared far more than most of the
others, and one could make a good living from it. If
JEANIE'S SECRET,, ..,'. ,*, -IOI
we could have the place all so '"w^ll. cleared, 'wit
truck patch and the orchard and "all that; wd -ioiild send '
for mother at once. But now that father cannot work
as heartily as he once did, it will be years before we
can hope to have as good a place as that."
" I should have your mother come, anyhow, if I were
you."
" Oh, I mean to have her come as soon as there is a
chance for her to find company this far. I have sent
her word. Our little cabin is small, to be sure, and
with two families in it we shall be crowded, but we are
going to add a lean-to, and I don't doubt but that we
can get along after a fashion."
" I wish you would remember that I shall soon be
ready to take one member of the family away to
another home," said Archie, pointedly. Agnes, for
answer, gave a shrug of her shoulders and walked
away. She did not care to bring up that question.
It was a crisp, clear morning the last of Novem-
ber when the family returned to the cabin. There
were evidences to be seen of a man's presence when
they entered the door. A pipe lay on the table, a pair
of shoepacks on the floor, a book, half open, had been
tossed on the settle. Agnes took in all these details.
"Jerry is still here," she remarked, "but I didn't know
he ever touched a book."
" Never mind the book, or what he touches," said
Polly ; " we've got to stir our stumps and get these
102 ; ;A< GENTLE PIONEER
things- <of. ours- where Ihey belong. Where's your
lather P-^'^
" He's gone out to the truck patch."
" So much the better. We shan't need him till meal-
time. By then Jerry will be back, I'm thinking. Trust
the men for bein' on hand when the vittles is on the
table."
But it was not till they were snugly settled in bed
that night that they heard the sound of some one at the
door which Agnes had securely bolted. She gave Polly
a gentle shake and whispered, " There's some one at
the door, Polly ; I expect it's Jerry."
"Whist!" said Polly. "Don't wake your fayther,
though he do sleep that heavy you could fire off a gun
in the room and it wouldn't stir him. I'll go to the
door and ask who it is." She suited the action to
the word and put the question, "Is it yersel', Jerry?"
" No," was the reply in an unfamiliar voice. " Who
are you, and what are you doing in my house ? "
Polly drew back. " The man's stark, starin' mad ! "
she exclaimed. " What's he doin' wanderin' about with-
out a kaper ? "
" Don't let him in ! Don't let him in ! " cried Agnes.
" See that the window's shut, Polly, do."
But Polly's curiosity got the best of her, and she
went to the window to peer out. The man was
fumbling at the door, trying to get it unfastened.
Failing in this he went toward the window. Polly
JEANIE'S SECRET 103
quickly slammed to the wooden shutter, at the same
time crying out, " Get out of here wid ye, and do it
quick."
" I'll do nothing of the kind," came the reply. " This
is my house, and naturally I should like to get into it."
Polly opened the shutter a crack. " Who says it is
your house ? " she asked.
" I've been living here for a month, and it's mine by
good right. The people who used to live here have
gone back east, as perhaps you know, and as I came
here before you did, I have the best right to the place.
First come, first served, you know. If you don't let me
in by the door, I will have to climb in by one of the
windows. Where's your husband ? Perhaps he'll listen
to reason."
" It's mesel' who'd be glad to know where he is,"
returned Polly, seriously, "and I'd be glad if you'd tell
me."
The man gave a little chuckle.
Agnes by this time had drawn near to Polly and was
listening.
" I don't believe he's crazy, Polly," she whispered ;
"he's only impudent. Shall I call father?"
" No, I'll manage him," returned Polly, coolly. " Let
him try to get in wanst, an' I'll make it hot for him.
If he's not a crazy man nor an Injun, I'm not afraid
to tackle him."
The man was now occupied in wresting the leathern
104 A GENTLE PIONEER
hinges of the shutters from their fastenings, and seemed
likely to succeed. It would be easy enough then to cut
through the piece of linen which, smeared with bear's
oil, served in lieu of window-glass.
" You stop right there," cried Polly, " or I'll give you
a taste of shot. The best thing for you is to mount yer
hoss, or if you haven't one, to go foot-back if you like
to where you came from, for go you shall, or you'll be
sorry."
There was no answer but the bang of the shutter
as it fell from its hinges. Polly's temper was up, and
without further ado she snatched up her rifle from its
accustomed corner. There was a flash, a report, a
heavy fall, and Polly backed away from the window,
while Agnes sank to the floor covering her face with
her hands.
CHAPTER VII
THE INTRUDER
IT was some weeks later that the gaunt form of a
young man might have been seen stretched on the
bed in one of the loft rooms. The place was very still.
Upon the homespun curtains at the small window the
flickering play of light and shade showed forth the
drawing of a pine tree's branches. An array of bowls
and cups stood upon a small table and the small room
bore the appearance of having been used for some time
by one used to nursing a very ill patient.
Presently the young man opened his eyes wearily and
looked around the room. He was very white and wan.
His dark hair, which had been cropped close, was be-
ginning to grow out in little wavy locks about his fore-
head. He lifted his hand feebly, and looked at its
transparent thinness. " Where am I ? " he asked
weakly.
At his words Polly came forward and observed him
closely. " Praise God, yer yersel' again ! " she exclaimed.
" Now don't say a word, me lad. Drink this, and go to
sleep."
105
106 A GENTLE PIONEER
The young man gazed at her wonderingly, but he
obeyed so far as to drink from the cup which she held
to his lips. " I don't want to go to sleep. I want to
know where I am," he persisted. " It looks natural and
yet it doesn't."
Polly set down her cup and smiled, the young man
regarding her silently but with evident surprise. He
took in every detail of her rough dress ; he noted the
thick hair which swept back in pretty curves from the
low forehead, the steady gray eyes with their long dark
lashes, the firm red lips. He closed his eyes, but opened
them again, almost immediately. " You're still here,"
he said ; " I thought you were a dream."
Polly smiled again. "I'm a purty substantial dream.
Do you feel better ? "
" Yes, I suppose so ; only I don't know what has been
the matter. Where am I ? What has happened ? "
Polly shook her head. " Don't try to remember.
You are here in good hands. All you have to do is to
obey orders and try to get well and strong."
" I begin to remember." The patient spoke slowly as
if recalling, gradually, certain events. " I came home
and couldn't get in ; then somebody fired at me." He
looked at Polly inquiringly, and the blood mounted to
the very roots of her hair.
"Yes, but you must wait till you are stronger to hear
all about it," she told him. "We do not know your
name, and you do not know us. I am Polly O'Neill \
THE INTRUDER IO/
that's enough for you to know at one time. We'll talk
about the hows and whys later."
She left the room and went downstairs where she at
once sought out Agnes, beckoning to her with a look of
mystery. " He's got his mind again," she said. " Now,
what's to be done ? Do you suppose he'll be telling it
around that Polly O'Neill made a target of him ? "
" Of course not. When we explain that he was
breaking into our house, he will be glad enough to keep
quiet about it ; and if he does not, I think we shall have
our own story to tell, and it will be believed." Agnes
gave her head a toss and Polly laughed.
"Very well, then," said the latter, "since you are so
high an' mighty about it, suppose you go up with this
dish of porridge an' see what he has to say for himself."
"Ah, but, Polly "
" No ah buts ; go right along," and Polly gave her a
good-humored push toward the table where the bowl of
porridge stood.
" He's a young man," said Agnes, still hesitating.
" Yes, and good looking and nice spoken. He'll not
bite you," returned Polly, blandly. " Go along with
your porridge before it gets cold; and if he wants to
talk, let him."
Agnes, with bowl in hand, slowly mounted the stairs
to the loft. On Polly's best feather-bed, covered warmly
with skins, lay the wounded man. His eyes were closed,
but, at the sound of Agnes's gentle voice, he opened
108 A GENTLE PIONEER
them. " Here is some porridge for you," the girl
said.
"Thank you, but I don't care for it."
" You must take it. Polly says so. She is the best
nurse in the world."
The young man smiled. " Well, if Polly says so, I
suppose that settles it. Will you bring it close, and
may I ask you to raise my head a little ? "
Agnes pushed the pillow further under his shoulders
and raised his head, holding the bowl while he drank his
gruel.
" I'd like to sit up a little. I want to look out," said
the young man.
Agnes made a roll of some skins which she brought
from the next room, and by their aid he was propped
up ; then she drew aside the curtain from the little win-
dow and stood waiting.
" It is good to see the outside world again," he said.
" It is familiar enough. I think it is time for explana-
tions. Will you tell me how I came to be here, and why
you are here, and who you all are ? I've had glimpses of
the reality of it all, though I suppose my mind has been
wandering a bit, too. How long have I been in this bed ? "
" Nearly three weeks."
The young man gave an exclamation of surprise, and
then, with a gentle wave of his hand, he said, " Don't
stand." Agnes drew up a low stool. She was not very
used to courtly ways and they embarrassed her, so she
SHE DREW ASIDE THE CURTAIN FROM THE LITTLE WINDOW.
THE INTRUDER 109
sat looking down at her brown hands folded on her lap,
and wished she could think of some excuse to take her
downstairs.
For some time there was silence, the girl feeling con-
scious that she was being steadfastly regarded by a pair
of big brown eyes.
" I remember now," the young man broke the silence
by saying. " I have seen you before, and that good
woman you speak of as Polly called you Nancy. That
is one of the things I remember. I don't know what
came next, for I drifted off into that dreamy world I
have been in for so long."
" Yes, almost every one calls me Nancy, but my name
is Agnes, Agnes Kennedy."
" It is a pretty name. Mine is Parker Willett. The
boys call me Park. Now will you tell me how long you
have lived here and something about yourself ? "
"We came from near Carlisle, Pennsylvania. My
father had to give up our old home, and we came out
here together more than a year, nearly two years, ago.
We lived for a time in another settlement, but it was
raided by the Indians and most of the houses were
burned. My father was badly hurt at the same time,
and he has never been the same since. Some of our
good friends were coming this way, and my mother's
father some years ago settled not very far from Marietta.
He left some property that we thought belonged to my
mother, so we were going right there, but some one else
1 10 A GENTLE PIONEER
claims it. Then Polly came, and we took up this land
and built this little cabin ; but when summer came, we
were afraid of the Indians, and went back to the fort.
We stayed there till we thought it would be safe to
come back here, and so we came."
" And found your home had been occupied ? "
" Yes, but we thought it was Jerry Hunter who had
been here. He said he would come and look after
things once in a while."
" It was I, you see."
" Yes. What did you do it for ? It wasn't right to
try to steal the home from other people."
" No, it wasn't ; but you see I didn't know I was
stealing. I feel very much mortified that I should have
persisted in getting in. It was this way : a man named
Muirhead, over across the river, told me that if I were
looking for a good place to settle that I could find it
here, for there were some persons who had come from
Pennsylvania and had put up a cabin and had begun to
clear up, but they had given up the place and had gone
back home, and I could have the place for the taking.
I came over here and explored, and found it just as he
said the house shut up, and things pretty well cleared
out, so I took possession." He paused. " I was mis-
led, because he said it was a man and his daughter,
a young slip of a girl who couldn't stand the rough
country."
" You say Muirhead was the name ? "
THE INTRUDER III
" Yes."
Agnes gave her head a defiant shake. " We might
have known it," she said.
"He told me further that he was in a position to
know, because the people were relatives of his, and he
had a half-interest in the place, but that there was
plenty of land nearer home, and he'd not stand at that.
I wondered a little, but it seemed all right, as he
appeared to know all about it, and referred me to some
persons who said he was all right and that he had lived
here all his life. I thought myself lucky to get a
place where there was already a house built, and did
not inquire further. I expected to stay till I should
find a piece of land I wanted to buy, and I would
have paid Muirhead rent."
Agnes was silent for a little while, then she said,
"Then this Muirhead is not a friend of yours?"
" No, an acquaintance merely. I was directed to him
by some one who said he knew all about the country,
having been born and brought up near by."
" So he was. He is my mother's half-brother, and I
think he would do anything to injure us. Every one
says he has a right to the property on which he is liv-
ing, but I don't think so. He certainly ought not to
have more than half, yet he takes it all, and I know my
grandfather would have given my mother a share of
whatever he had. But there is no use trying to fight it.
I am only a girl, and father is not in a state to help, so
112 A GENTLE PIONEER
there is no one to do anything about it, but I feel sure
that Humphrey Muirhead is trying to get us from the
neighborhood, and he'll do everything against us, and
that is why he sent you here."
" I see," said Parker Willett, smiling, "though I think
it was decidedly against me, too, as it turned out."
" It was too bad that you should have suffered by his
wickedness, though I didn't mean that exactly as it
sounded."
" I know that. It is really the result of my own folly.
I ought to have made further investigation, and I ought
to have been less determined to get in. I lost my tem-
per, and Polly, you know her voice is not reassuring."
Agnes laughed. " Dear Polly ! her voice does go
through one sometimes."
" So does her shot," returned Parker, with a wry face.
" She feels very sorry," said Agnes, "though she says
you brought it on yourself."
" So I did. I acknowledge that."
" She is a good shot, and it is a mercy you were not
killed. Now don't you think you'd better lie down
again ? "
It was quite evident that the patient was ready for a
change of position, and Agnes, having made him com-
fortable, went down to Polly full of the information that
had just been given her.
Polly listened attentively to what Agnes had to tell
her. " I'd like to have Hump Muirhead on the end of
THE INTRUDER 113
this fork," she said, brandishing her flesh fork in her
hand. "I'd roast him over the coals, would I."
" Oh, Polly, you're as bad as the Indians."
" Am I then ? I am not. But a bad man needs a
gridiron and brimstone; he'll get it yet."
" Oh, Polly ! " Agnes's shocked voice exclaimed again.
"Never you mind," Polly went on; "he'll get his
deserts yet." She sat for some time nursing her knees
before the fire and then she burst out with : " I'm think-
ing, Nancy, that it 'ud be no so bad a thing to keep
that young man with us when he gets well, and bechune
us we may be able to trick that Muirhead yet."
" But, Polly, we don't know anything about him, and
how can we tell that he is a good man, or that we'd
like to have a perfect stranger to come right into the
family ? "
" Now isn't that like a cautious Scot ? " said Polly.
" I suppose ye'd be wantin' his character from his
meenister, and another from his townfolks before ye'd
give him the hand o' friendship. He's from Virginny,
I kin tell by his trick of speakin', and he's a gentle-
man."
" I think he is a gentleman," said Agnes, thought-
fully, " for he is much more polite than the lads about
here."
" He's new to the place ; he'll forgit it, give him time,"
said Polly, complacently. " I'll not be long in fmdhY
out whether he's worth the keepin' or no." And in
114 A GENTLE PIONEER
truth she laid her plans so well that by the time the
winter was over, Parker Willett had become a member of
the household. All his chivalric spirit was roused for
the brave Polly, though she had been the cause of his
long weeks of pain and weakness, and at first he felt
inclined to resent any advances on Polly's part. But her
unfailing good humor and kindliness, and the hopeful
spirit which bade her never give up looking for her
missing husband, won his heart. Then, too, he felt a
strange pity for Agnes, the young and helpless girl, so
tender and devoted to her gentle father. Wild as a
hawk was Agnes growing under Polly's independent
example, yet she was always womanly, sweet, and tender
where her father was concerned. She might ride bare-
back on a wild young colt ; she might go forth like a
young Amazon, pistol in belt and knife in hand, but
she would come back, fling herself from her horse, and
sit down by her father gentle as a little child, trying to
entertain him by talking of the dear old times.
" Agnes is a good little girl," Mr. Kennedy would
say. And Parker, who an hour before had seen this
same Agnes stamping her foot at Polly, and in a rage
at Jerry Hunter because he failed to do something she
had requested, would smile to himself. " Poor little
lass, she needs her mother," was what Fergus Kennedy
would say if Agnes were caught in one of her rages.
"Where is your mother? " he would ask her wistfully.
Then would Agnes fly to him all gentleness, the fire
THE INTRUDER 115
dying out of her eyes, and her voice as soft as a dove's.
" She's comin' father, dear," she would tell him. " You
know we have sent for her, and she will come very,
very soon. And Sandy and Margret and Jock and
Jessie, you remember, father, they'll all be coming
along before long." Then she would look at Parker, as
if to say, " Don't you dare to contradict." And the
young man would not for the world have borne her
a moment's ill-will, though he might have been think-
ing her a little hypocrite and a lawless young creature
who should be well lectured. As time went on they
had many tiffs, for Parker loved to tease, and Agnes
would brook no contradictions from any one but her
father. Indeed, Jeanie M 'Clean said she was no more
like the lass she used to be back there at home, so
gentle, so well behaved, and she did not see what had
come over her.
"It's all Polly O'Neill's doings," she declared to
Archie, but Archie frowned and said Agnes was well
enough, and that she had a right to say what she liked.
This was after a visit which Jeanie made one day to
Agnes, coming upon her in a heated altercation with
Parker. " I only wish Polly had hurt you worse than
she did," snapped the girl. " You shall not tease me.
I will not stand it. I will let the chickens out when I
want to."
" But they play havoc in the garden and eat up the
grain, too."
Il6 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Plant more, then. Father does when I tell him."
"You are unreasonable, Agnes."
" Don't call me Agnes. I am Miss Kennedy, if you
please."
" Miss Kennedy, then. You are unreasonable, for your
fowls can be fed as well in their own enclosure as to be
eating up the food we shall need for ourselves."
" As if they could eat it all up."
" They do not eat it all up, of course, and you know
they do not have to be kept up all the year ; they are
free to roam where they will after the things have grown
more, but we do not want them to destroy the seeds we
have planted with so much care."
" I don't care ; you shall not call me unreason-
able."
"Oh, Agnes!" Here Jeanie's voice broke in. She
had ridden over with David. " What does make you in
such a temper ? "
"This creature." Agnes gave a magnificent wave
of her hand to Parker Willett, who flashed an amused
smile at Jeanie.
" Don't mind her, Mr. Willett," said Jeanie, as he
helped her down from her horse. " She is a naughty
girl at times."
"Her father says she is a good little girl," said
Parker, teasingly, and Agnes bent an ominous look
upon him.
" I'll pay you up for that," she said.
THE INTRUDER 117
The young man smiled gravely. To his twenty-five
years Agnes seemed still a little child, and he agreed
with her father that the girl needed her mother. " Polly
O'Neill, good, clever, kind hearted though she might be,
was no guardian for a young lass," he said to himself.
" The girl has been well brought up, but she will forget
all her gentle ways in Polly's company. I wish it could
be managed to alter conditions for her. I've no right
to interfere, but if she were my sister " He struck
his spade sharply into the earth, and then stood erect
looking after Agnes as she disappeared into the cabin
with Jeanie. At the other end of the truck patch he
caught sight of Fergus Kennedy, his face wearing its
usual mild, dazed expression. Parker had a genuine
affection for his coworker, and he watched him now
with a look of pity and concern. " Dear old fellow," he
murmured under his breath, " for your sake if not for the
girl's own I will do my best." And from that time he
took a greater interest in Agnes, in spite of the fact that
she played many tricks upon him, and more than once
angered him beyond endurance. Then he discussed the
situation with Polly.
"That little girl is getting to be as wild as a hawk,"
he ventured to say. " Do you think her mother would
like to see her so ? "
Polly gave her head a toss. " Why shouldn't she be
wild ? It suits the country. She'll not be like to wear
silks and satins and be mincing about on high heels.
Il8 A GENTLE PIONEER
She'll be like to marry a settler lad Archie M'Clean,
no doubt."
" But Archie is not so rough ; he is quite serious and
gentle."
" All the more he'll like the bright ways of the lassie.
She's young yet, Mr. Willett, an' young things must
have their fling. Leave her alone for a while, and she'll
sober down like the rest of us." She gave a little chir-
rup of a laugh and glanced at the young man, who
laughed in return.
"You have sobered down so entirely, Polly," he said.
" Ye didn't know me when I was a bit of a lass," re-
plied Polly, with a sly look.
" That is true ; you must have been " He shook
his head, and Polly laughed again.
Society upon the frontier was decidedly mixed, and to
Polly one was as good as another. She rather admired
the handsome, courtly young Virginian, but she gave
quite as much favor to rough, awkward Jerry Hunter,
and, indeed, preferred his boisterous laugh and clumsy
jokes to the more quiet conversation of Parker Willett.
As for Agnes, she accepted the fact of the young
man's presence with cheerfulness, except when her ire
was raised by his teasing, and then she plied Polly with
requests to send him off, but an hour later she would
calm down and confess that it was a good arrangement
all around, and that his clear head and busy hands
would be greatly missed if he should leave them. As
THE INTRUDER 119
time went on that ever present thought, "When
mother comes," took more and more possession of
her, and colored all her plans for the future. She did
not talk of these plans to Polly, but when she and her
father were alone, she would let her thoughts run riot,
and at these times, too, it seemed that Fergus Kennedy
was more like his old self than outsiders believed he
could ever be.
With Jeanie Agnes was now on good terms, for
Jeanie, once she had confessed her interest in David,
made Agnes her confidante, and though David was shy
and Jeanie coy, the affair was visibly progressing, and
Agnes thought it probable that in a year or so there
would be another home started in the settlement.
Archie of late was more serious than ever, and one
day he propounded a question to Agnes which rather
puzzled her. "Would ye like to marry a man who'd
make ye a home back there in the east, Agnes ? " he
asked.
"And go back there with father? I don't know,
Archie. But there's no such to marry me, and then
there will be mother and the children."
Archie nodded. " It's a muckle one would have to do
with such a family," he said half to himself and with a
sigh. " If he happened to be a puir meenister, it would
be hard making out, though maybe with a farm
" What are you talking about, Archie ? " Agnes inter-
rupted impatiently. " I never heard such maundering
120 A GENTLE PIONEER
talk. Who's a puir meenister, and what are you trying
to say ? "
Archie roused himself from his revery. " Oh, noth-
ing, Agnes; I was but thinking."
"You're forever and the day thinking, and what
comes of it ? "
"Something may," he replied. "Ye'd sober down
then," he said, looking at her speculatively.
" I can't think what you mean. I'll sober down for
no one, unless it be my mother," she added softly.
" Ah, your mother, yes." And again Archie was
plunged in thought so that Agnes flung herself off and
declared to Jeanie that Archie was going daft.
CHAPTER VIII
ARCHIE'S PLAN
AGNES was right in charging Archie with doing a
deal of thinking, for, ever since the meeting-house
had become an assured fact, his yearning for the min-
istry had increased, and he thought of it day and night.
In vain did he tell himself that his father needed him ;
in vain did he call himself unfit, that tugging at his
heartstrings would not cease, and at last the lad took his
trouble to the minister himself. " It is a call, lad," said
the good man, after he had heard Archie's hesitating
account of himself. " If there's a way open to you,
take it, for the laborers are few."
"There'd be a way open if my grandfather knew,"
said Archie, slowly. " He's been aye ready to urge me
to the step since I was a bit of a lad, and he would help
me."
"Then go and ask your father's blessing and start
forth, and may the Lord of Hosts go with you."
Archie went home with so serious a face that his
father noticed it as the boy came into the workshop and
stood before him.
121
122 A GENTLE PIONEER
"What fashes ye, lad?" he asked. "Are ye in
trouble ? "
" No trouble now, father. I've been to see the
meenister."
"Ay, and what then?"
" He thinks I have a call. I've felt it this long while,
and father, shall I go?"
Joseph M' Clean was silent for a moment. Archie
was the apple of his eye ; to part from the lad would be
such pain as he could scarcely bring himself to face ;
but the ministry Like Abraham of old, if the Lord
demanded the sacrifice, he was ready to give it, so on
the altar of his affections he laid his first-born, saying
in a broken voice, " The Lord be with you, my son ; if
it is his will, I cannot deny ye to Him." And the un-
demonstrative Scot drew the boy close and folded his
arms about him. " I'll not deny it's hard to part from
ye, Archie, my lad," he said in a shaking voice.
" But it'll not be for always, father. I beeta to come
back here, maybe."
"Ay, maybe."
" Grandfather will help me."
" He will, and be proud to do it. He was ever at me
to encourage ye in the notion. Ye'll go straight to him,
Archie, and tell him I sent ye. Now go tell your
mither."
Between her pride in the prospect of her boy's be-
coming a minister and her sorrow at parting with him,
ARCHIE'S PLAN 123
Mrs. M'Clean had many tears to shed, but she said
nothing to dissuade him from his purpose, and he went
forth from her presence comforted.
It was of Agnes that he next thought, and that even-
ing he took his way to her home. It was late when
he reached there for the winter days were still short.
A golden light gleamed coldly through the trees, and
shone through the door striking Agnes's auburn hair
with a glory as she opened to the lad's knock. " Ah,
come in," she said, pleased at sight of him. " I'm glad
of company, for Polly is doing the milking, father and
Mr. Willett are off hunting, and the bairns and I are all
alone. Draw up by the fire."
Archie followed her to the fireside and seated himself
on the settle. He looked around the bare, homely little
room, at the children playing about the floor, and lastly
at Agnes herself. When would he be seeing all this
again ? What changes would take place before he
should return to this country, raw and new and full of
dangers and makeshifts ? A lump arose in his throat,
and he turned his eyes to the fire, gazing into its glow-
ing centre till he should recover his speech.
Agnes felt that something unusual was in the wind.
She watched him for a few minutes before she said,
saucily, "You've lost your tongue, Archie, the little
you have."
He started and faced her, blurting out : " I'm going
away. I'm going back to Carlisle."
124 A GENTLE PIONEER]
" Back to Carlisle ? " Agnes looked at him wonder-
ingly. " Oh, Archie, you will see mother and the
bairns. I wish I were going with you."
" I wish in my heart you were," he said unsteadily.
" Will you come there to me after a while, Agnes, if I
don't come back ? I'm going to be a meenister."
" A meenister ! " Agnes broke into a laugh. " Then
it was no joke when we called you the dominie." Then
her face clouded. " I'll be missing you, Archie," she
said simply.
" Ah, will ye, Agnes ? I'm fain glad to have ye say
so. Couldn't ye go back there now to your mother,
you and your father? "
" Oh, no, no; we've come here and settled, and there
will be enough for them now. Tell them so. I have
written them, but who knows if they have the letter,
and you will be going straight there, Archie. Tell
them they can come now, they must come, and we'll
manage somehow. There'll need to be more room, and
oh, Archie, you'll not be here to help us build." The
thought of this made the girl's eyes moist, and she said
again, " I'll be missing ye sorely, Archie."
" Then if ye'll not go back now, I'll come for you.
There'll be other meeting-houses needed as the country
fills up, and other meenisters for them, and I'll no stay
in the east." Archie spoke eagerly.
But Agnes had recovered herself ; her emotion was
not so very deep. " Don't be too sure. One can't
ARCHIE'S PLAN 12$
tell what a year may bring forth," she remarked
sagely.
" Will ye make me the promise, then ? "
" The promise ? "
" To wait till I come for you."
Agnes shook her head. " I'll make no promises, lad.
I'm too foolish a creature for a meenister's wife."
" But ye're so young ; ye'll sober down."
" I don't want to."
Archie's face fell, but he persisted. " Ye'll be think-
ing that way now, but after a bit it'll come easy."
" The promises of girls and boys are of no account,"
said Agnes, with more perspicuity than one would have
credited her with. " Didn't you promise a year ago
that when you were twenty-one you would build a home
out here ? "
Archie looked troubled. " Ay, but circumstances "
" Yes, that's just it ; circumstances, and who knows
what circumstances will come about in another year?
I'll make no promises till I see my mother again, that
I told you before, and I keep to it."
"Then," said Archie, with a little smile, "it behooves
me to send your mother to you."
"Ah, but; and if you do that, I will be pleased."
" Then I will try to please ye. Don't you think I
am right, Agnes ? "
" To try to please me ? Yes."
" I meant to follow the meenistry."
126 A GENTLE PIONEER
" I suppose so. Tell me all about it."
At this invitation, and with a hope for her dear sym-
pathy to carry away as a memory, Archie poured forth
his heart.
Agnes listened soberly enough, but as he came to an
end of his speech, she gave a little giggle.
Archie frowned. "What is so funny?"
" You in blacks." Then seeing he took it to heart,
she added: "Ah, but now Archie dear, you see how
trifling I am. You'll find some good serious girl at
home there in Carlisle, and you'd better turn to her.
I commend you to Ailsie Bell; she'd be that proud
to be a meenister's wife."
Archie got up and strode across the floor with some-
thing like temper. " I want no Ailsie Bell. You've
no heart at all, Agnes, and I am 'going away so soon
next week it will be."
"So soon as that ? " Agnes was serious now. " Maybe
I'll not be seeing you again."
" Maybe not."
"Ah, I'm sorry, I am, Archie, and I'd promise if I
could, but I'm not staid and good enough for a meenis-
ter, and "
" You're good enough for me."
" But I'd not be for the congregation, and I'd be
scared of them, so
" I'll not give you up," said Archie, firmly. " I'll come
back when I'm in orders, and you'll be older then, and
ARCHIE'S PLAN 1 27
it will seem a holy, noble life to you to help the sinful
and suffering."
Agnes looked overpowered by this burst of enthu-
siasm, and held down her head, looking very meek, but
she saw it was not worth while to try to argue the ques-
tion. She was sorry to lose Archie, and she raised her
blue eyes to him wistfully as she said : " You'll bear a
letter to my mother, won't you, Archie ? I'll write it
and bring it to you, so I'll see you again."
Archie promised and then Polly came in, and though
she laughed and joked about Archie's plan, she was
more impressed by it than Agnes was. He had sud-
denly acquired a new dignity in Polly's eyes, and she
treated him with a deference born of the thought that he
might one day come back and bring her to task in the mat-
ter of her children's knowledge of the Shorter Catechism,
a matter which Polly was likely to pass over slightingly.
Agnes wrote her letter, pouring out her full heart to
her mother, and telling her that she must delay her
coming no longer. With the letter safely hidden in her
jacket she took her way over to the M 'Cleans', where
every one was full of preparations for Archie's depar-
ture, and where he was so in demand by this and that
one that Agnes had not a chance to make her good-
bys till she started for home, when Archie declared his
intention of walking part way with her.
They were both rather silent till it came to the
moment of parting. Along the path through the quiet
128 A GENTLE PIONEER
woods they had spoken of commonplace things, of the
weather, of the news of the neighborhood, but at the
parting of their paths, Archie stopped suddenly, and
caught Agnes's hands in his. " Ye like no other lad so
well as me, Agnes ; tell me that for my comfort."
" I like no other lad half so well," said Agnes, stead-
ily, "and I shall, oh, I believe I shall greet for you,
Archie, when I come home from meeting next Sabbath."
The tears were in her eyes as she spoke.
" It will be very different when I come back," said
Archie, " and maybe there'll be no Agnes Kennedy to
greet for me then," he added, unsteadily.
" No Agnes Kennedy ? Do you think I am going
to die young ? " Agnes's voice was awe-stricken.
" No, but I may hear that you have changed your
name."
" Oh, is that all ? You scared me, Archie."
"And though ye care naught for any other lad, you'll
no be giving me that promise to wait for me ? If ye
would but do that, Agnes, I would go away a happier lad."
" I cannot make that promise." He was still holding
her hands, but now she drew them away. " Suppose
you should forget me, Archie, and should like another
girl better than me, I would be sitting here sorrowing
for you and* you would never come, or suppose I should
see some one I liked better, then it would be a grief to
us both, for I should hold to my promise and I should
be false in doing it."
ARCHIE'S PLAN 1 29
Archie looked at her wonderingly. " How wise a
lass is," he sighed, " so much wiser than lads are about
such things. Then will you make this promise ? If
neither you nor I shall see another that shall be liked
better, we will wed each other when I come back to
you ? "
Agnes considered this for some time before she
answered, " Yes, I think that is not too much to prom-
ise, for we are then both free to do as we choose, and
if it makes you any happier for me to say it, Archie, I
will say it."
Archie's face brightened. " My dear lassie, you do
not know what dreams I shall have of this last
evening."
Agnes shook her head. " You will always be dream-
ing, Archie, of one thing or another."
He smiled and took her hands in his again. " Will
you take the half of a broken sixpence, Agnes, as a
token ? "
" It is what they do in story-books, isn't it ? "
" Yes, and it is a sign between lovers."
" And are we lovers ? " Agnes asked the question
most innocently, and Archie gave a little sigh.
" We will be lovers when I see you again," he replied.
" And will you write to me sometimes, Agnes, and will
you keep the half sixpence ? I have it here." He pro-
duced the bits of broken coin from his leathern pouch
and gave her one of the pieces.
K
130 A GENTLE PIONEER
" I will keep it."
" And you will not forget your promise ? Say it
again, Agnes."
"What shall I say?"
" If I see no one I like better than you, Archie
M'Clean, before you come to claim me, I will be your
wife."
Agnes hesitated. " It sounds so solemn."
" But you promised."
"So I did. I will say it." And she repeated the
words with due seriousness.
" And when I see you again, Agnes Kennedy, I will
claim you for my wife, and I will promise to be a true
and loving husband."
" Oh, but you didn't say anything about the other
girl that you may like better ! " Agnes exclaimed.
" There will be no other," returned Archie.
" All the same you must say it just as I did, or I
shall not be satisfied." And Archie was compelled to
make the concession.
" You wouldn't you wouldn't kiss me good-by, I
suppose," said Archie, awkwardly.
Agnes shook her head.
" But I may kiss your cheek ? "
For answer she turned her soft rosy cheek toward
him and he touched it lightly with his lips. The color
flew to the girl's very forehead, and she turned away
quickly, saying, " Good-by for the last time, Archie ; I
ARCHIE'S PLAN 131
must hurry on." She did not look back, but Archie
stood gazing after her till she was out of sight.
Just before she reached the edge of the woods she
met Parker Willett, who, with gun on shoulder, was
coming along the river path.
He carried a bunch of partridges in his hand. Seeing
the girl, he stopped and waited for her.
" It's getting late," Agnes greeted him by saying.
" I've been over to the M'Cleans'. Archie is going
to-morrow, and he will see my mother. Think of it,
Mr. Willett. Ah me, if I could but go to her instead of
the letter I sent."
" Why didn't you tell her to come to you ? "
Agnes looked at him for a moment before she asked,
" Would you have done it ? "
" I think so. Yes, I am sure I would."
"That's what I did, then ; but don't tell Polly."
" Why not ? "
" Oh, because. You see Polly has made a home for
us, and one cannot tell whether her husband will ever
come back. Do you think he will ? "
" I am afraid not."
"That's what all think but Polly, and you see the
house is small, and there's not room for all us if mother
and the children come."
" We can easily add more rooms or build another
cabin if that is all."
" Yes, but will there be enough for everybody ? "
132 A GENTLE PIONEER
" No doubt we can manage. Have you any
brothers ? "
" Yes, and Sandy is a big boy now ; he can help."
"And your mother would give a hand, too, I know,
from what you have told us of her. We want in this
country willing, skilful, helpful workers more than any-
thing else. It is easy to get food if there are those to
help us raise and prepare it. So you'll not starve,
Nancy, when your mother comes."
"You are very good to tell me that." She looked up
at him with a beaming face. " I think, after all," she
added after a pause, "that it was a providence that
sent you to us. It would be nice," she added after a
moment's reflection, " if you would marry Polly, and
then she would be provided for."
Her companion laughed. "But suppose, after all, her
husband should return."
. " That would make a mess of it." She looked him
over thoughtfully. " Do you know," she said suddenly,
" now I come to think of it, I wonder why you don't get
married and have your own home."
He smiled indulgently. " Because I like to stay
with Polly and you," he answered lightly.
" Is that it ? No, I don't believe it is exactly," she
said thoughtfully. " I believe at first you thought you
had done us a wrong by trying to take our clearing
from us, and you wanted to make up for it, and now
you you feel sorry for us and you are staying because
ARCHIE'S PLAN 133
you know we need you. We do need you." She
nodded her head decidedly. " Everything has gone so
well since you took hold, and soon we'll be having as
good a clearing as the M 'Cleans'."
The young man made no answer. She had followed
his own thought, and he wondered that so thoughtless a
little creature as she had always appeared to be should
have so good an insight into his motives. "Agnes,
how old are you ? " he asked after a silence in which
they kept the path together.
" I am sixteen. I shall be seventeen next spring."
"And I am twenty-five."
"That is quite old," returned Agnes, dubiously. "I
shall have been many years married when I am that
old, I suppose."
" Girls do marry young hereabouts, I have noticed.
It is the need of homes, and the fact that it is not good
for man to be alone. You'll make a fine woman, I'm
thinking."
Agnes blushed at the unwonted praise. She had
more than once been conscious that she was looked
upon with critical eyes by this young man, and that it
was often to her disadvantage that she appeared to
him. If he thought she would make a fine woman,
then maybe She had just parted from Archie, and
out of the fullness of her heart she spoke, " Do you
think I'd ever make a proper wife for a minister ? "
Her companion turned and looked at her sharply.
134 A GENTLE PIONEER
The anxious little face in the evening's glow looked
wonderfully sweet and innocent. He read her thought.
" No," he answered shortly. Then he quickened his
pace and strode on ahead of her, leaving her feeling
half indignant, half overcome with humility.
They found Jerry Hunter established by the fireside,
and Polly charring him and joining in his big laugh.
Somehow, the boisterousness jarred on Agnes. She
wished that she might be alone, or that it was . her
mother her mother who would be there to give her a
gentle greeting, and who would listen so patiently and
sympathetically to all her doubts and perplexities.
Then her conscience smote her; for whatever her
faults, who was kinder than Polly? Who more leni-
ent, more ready to cheer and comfort ? Even now as
the girl entered, Polly's eyes sought her, and the loud
laugh upon her lips died away.
"Come, lass," she said, "Jerry has fetched us a fine
haunch of venison. Go you out and bring in some of
that fox-grape jelly we made, and we'll be having a
feast to-night. The child's sad at parting from Archie,"
she said to the others as Agnes went out ; " we must try
to cheer her up a bit." And indeed, Agnes did seem
depressed and silent more than was her wont.
And so it was that Archie M'Clean went back to
Carlisle, and Agnes missed him more than she liked
to confess. The youths of the settlement had taken
it as a matter of course that Agnes would be escorted
ARCHIE'S PLAN 135
everywhere by Archie, and in consequence they had
sought other partners, so she felt herself suddenly
bereft of those pleasant attentions which every girl
likes. She prepared rather soberly for the church
the next Sabbath, and was surprised upon coming
out to join Polly and her father to find Parker Willett
waiting for her. "Will you ride to church with me?"
he asked with a magnificent bow.
Agnes swept him quite as elegant a courtesy. " An'
it please you, kind sir, I will accompany you," she
replied. And then they both laughed.
" I thought perhaps you'd miss your swain, the knight
of the rueful countenance, and it will seem like old
times to me when I used to take my little sister to
church," he said, as he lifted her up.
" Oh, have you a little sister ? "
" Yes, or rather she is quite a big sister now."
"Tell me about her."
He took his place with an easy grace, and as they
started off he said, "She's back there in Virginia,
married these two or three years."
"Was that why you left home because she married?"
" Partly that. We were great comrades before that,
although it wasn't altogether pleasant after we had a
stepfather who made ducks and drakes of the property
our own father left, and as my sister had what was left
of her patrimony when she was married, I took what
was mine and came away to seek a better fortune than
136 A GENTLE PIONEER
seemed to await me at home. It is not a very romantic
story, you see."
" I know something about step relatives," said Agnes.
" My father has some stepbrothers, and that is why he
had to leave home. My grandfather Kennedy didn't
make a will, and his sons all came in for a share of the
property ; and they had had such a lot given to them, too,
so it wasn't fair. Grandfather always meant that father
should have the home farm, and they knew it, but they
just grabbed all they could get, and that, too, after
father had lived there all his life and had helped to
make the farm what it was."
"That was pretty mean. Your grandfathers don't
seem to be given to making wills."
" I shall always believe that Grandfather Muirhead
made his. I wish I knew more about how Humphrey
Muirhead came to have that place."
" How much do you know about it ? "
" Not very much. Grandfather lived there, and
cleared the land, so it is a good farm. One time
while grandfather was on a journey farther off, he
with his companions fell into the hands of the Indians,
and we always supposed he was killed. It was several
years ago, and none of the party ever came back. Do
you suppose Humphrey Muirhead could have found a
will and that he destroyed it ? "
"It is difficult to say. I should judge that he was
not a man of very much principle, and it is quite possi-
ARCHIE'S PLAN 137
ble that he would do a thing like that. Do you remem-
ber your grandfather Muirhead ? "
" Oh, yes. He came to see us several times. He
was a great one to travel about, and thought nothing of
making the journey over the mountains. He told
mother about this place the last time he came, and
gave her the deeds to keep for him, and he told her
the place was to be hers, but that's all the good it did."
"Well, I wouldn't grieve over it. In time you will
have as good a place as that."
" It will take years, for grandfather had spent so
much time and strength on his clearing ; it enrages me
when I think of it."
"You mustn't be enraged on your way to church,"
said Parker, half teasingly ; but Agnes answered gravely,
"That is quite true."
"We will talk of something else," Parker went on.
" Polly assured me last night that her husband would
soon be back."
"Why, what reason has she to think so ? "
" I don't know. She has had some sort of dream or
vision or something, a sign she says, and she puts great
faith in it. Polly's signs are something that I cannot
keep track of."
" But there are signs," returned Agnes, gravely.
" Oh, are there ? "
" Of course. The Indians have a great many, and
all people do."
138 A GENTLE PIONEER
" I suppose they do, come to think of it ; but I wasn't
thinking of natural consequences, I was thinking of the
supernatural."
" Oh, you mean uncanny things like ghosts and noises
from nowhere, and visions. We Scots believe in visions
and second sight and all that."
" Yes, I know you do. But are you still Scots ?
Why not Americans ? "
" Of course Americans, but the Scotch still clings to us."
" Like a 'burr, or like a true Scotch thistle. I have
noticed that, and that some of you keep the Scotch
pronunciation much more than others, yet every one
of you say meenister."
Agnes laughed at his pronunciation of the word.
" And any one would know you for a Virginian, and
you are proud of it; so are we proud of our Scotch-
Irish. Polly is more Irish than Scotch, and that shows
plainly, too."
" It surely does." And they both laughed at the
memory of some of Polly's expressions.
And when she looked back upon it Agnes found
that riding to church with Parker Willett was not quite
so serious an affair as Archie made it. She turned the
matter over in her mind as she sat very still in church,
but she gave a little sigh as she tried to fix her atten-
tion upon the long sermon. How was it faring with
Archie that day ? Was he thinking of her as he made
his journey over the mountains ?
CHAPTER IX
WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT
IT was quite early in the spring before the willows
that bordered the run at the foot of the garden
had put on their first green, and long before the paw-
paw bushes showed their tender shoots or their
leathery-looking blossoms. Agnes was busy pounding
at the hominy block. She was well wrapped up, for
though a recent thaw had broken up the ice in the
rivers, and had started the frost from out of the ground
so that the red mud was thick everywhere, it was still
cool out of doors. As the girl worked away, giving
swift, deft, even strokes, she saw Parker Willett coming
toward her. " The river is rising," he said.
Agnes paused, and looked toward the run. The
yellow mass of water in the river beyond was pitching
and tossing, a turbulent tide. " I thought it had come
to a standstill," she said, " but I see it is rising fast."
" Yes, very fast. I have been measuring, and it has
risen a foot since I last looked. I hope it will not be
such a big freshet as to wash us out."
" It couldn't do that, could it ? I shouldn't suppose
it could ever reach this far."
139
140 A GENTLE PIONEER
" No, but it might do damage to the garden."
"I hope it won't; we have such a good start."
Agnes looked out anxiously between the fringes of
willows.
"We won't borrow trouble, anyhow," said Parker,
cheerfully.
" Best not. Mother used to say that sometimes
trouble is a blessing in disguise, and even if the freshet
does harm in one direction, it may do good in another."
" That is certainly a cheerful view to take of it," said
Parker, laughing. And he passed on.
"Two years since I have seen my mother," thought
Agnes, "and I am seventeen. Oh, when will she
come ? I wonder if the freshet will be a help or a
hindrance to her coming. Ah, it is getting worse ! I
see the flood is bringing down all sorts of things. I
must go down nearer when I have finished this."
Higher and higher rose the flood, all day and all
night, and by the next morning river and run were one
sheet of tossing, plunging water. The house stood in a
little hollow, but beyond it rose a hill which descended
precipitously on the other side to the river. Around
the foot of the hill wound the run whose farther bank
rose again to the edge of the river; the bank, not so
high as the opposite one, was now covered. It was
sure to be safe on the higher hill. The house was a
little above the level of the water, but the garden on
the hillside was encroached upon.
WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT 141
" It is getting pretty close," said Parker, as Agnes
joined him ; "just a little more and I am afraid we shall
have to move out."
" Maybe it will stop before that happens," said
Agnes, in reply. "What a lot of things are coming
down ! " She turned to Polly who had come out to see.
" Oh, Polly, see, there is a shed and a lot of furniture,
and oh, see, there is a queer-looking raft ! There is a
man on it. If he should get into that snarl of trees
there, it would be bad for him. It is such a little raft.
See, he is trying to steer out of the way of those snags !
No, he isn't ! Oh, Polly, what is he trying to do ? "
" Trying to make a fool of himsel', as near as I can
make out. Why doesn't he try to pole himself out of
the way of those stumps? He's in danger, and if he
gets into the middle of the current, he's gone."
" There's something on the stump, and he's trying to
get it ! " cried Agnes. " What can it be ? O dear,
dear ! and we must stand here without being able to help
him." She looked around for Parker, but he was gone.
The snarl of stumps was drifting toward the current,
and they could see that the man on the frail little raft
was trying his best to keep raft and stumps from mid-
stream. " If he only knew how near he was to the top
of the river bank on the other side of the run, he might
make it. It's fair wonderful how he manages ; one 'ud
think nobody could live in such a rage of waters ! " Polly
exclaimed.
142 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Look there ! " suddenly cried Agnes.
" For the land's sake ! " Polly ejaculated. " If there
isn't Park Willett in a boat! If he isn't foolhardy, I
wouldn't say it. Now what is he going to do ? "
" I see," returned Agnes ; " he is going to try to get
across the run and reach the other bank. O dear!
he'll stick in the tree-tops and that will be the end of
him. Oh, I don't want to look ! I can't look ! I won-
der where father is ; I hope he is safe."
" He's nowhere about here ; he's gone to the other
clearing," Polly told her.
" And we must stand here and see them drown ! "
Agnes began to wring her hands.
" We needn't. You can go in," returned Polly, sar-
castically. " I'm willing to bet my Sunday dinner that
Park '11 make it. There he goes!"
" No, he's caught ! Ah, he is clear of that. Now !
Oh ! will he make it ? See, how carefully he sounds
as he goes ! Now what is he doing ? I see, he is mak-
ing his boat fast to the top of that tree so it can't get
away. Now why, Polly, he's throwing a line! Good
lad ! See, the man has caught it ! I was afraid it would
get tangled in the stump. What do you see ? " For
Polly had made a sudden exclamation.
" I'm no so sure, but I thought I saw the man there
take something from that snarl of stumps. Could it
be some wee bit animal ? "
" Could it be a little child ? Oh, Polly, could it ? "
WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT 143
The two were now so excited that they could scarcely
wait events, but there was nothing to do but to watch,
and finally they rejoiced to see the raft slowly turned
toward the boat in which Parker steadied himself, hold-
ing on to the branch of a tree which protruded from the
water. It was a risky business, for all around surged
the swift waters, flinging broken branches of trees, loose
boards, and stumps in their way. But once out of the
swift current they could hope to land safely. Crossing
the run was no easy matter, for the tops of the trees
along its submerged bank were continually menacing
them, and at every moment it seemed likely that they
would be upset. Breathlessly the two women watched,
and finally, by the combined skill of the two men, the
boat was safely piloted across to dry land. Then the
two clasped each other's hands in sign of relief to their
overstrained feelings.
"It is a child they are carrying," said Polly, "and
the man's head is as bald as my hand ; not a hair on it.
Come, let's hurry in, Nancy, and have some hot water
ready, for the child must be perished." Agnes followed
her into the house, and was bustling about making ready
some warm food when she heard an exclamation of joy
and amazement.
Then the door flew open, and she turned to see Polly
fling herself into the arms of the bald-headed man, cry-
ing : " It's me own Jimmy, and him with not a spear on
his head, and nearly drownded before me eyes ! Ah,
144 A GENTLE PIONEER
Jimmy, Jimmy, me true lad ! Ah, I knew ye'd never
lave me foriver. I've mourned for ye, lad ! Ah,
Jimmy, Jimmy ! " and she burst into a flood of tears.
And Jimmy, with one arm around Polly, half ready to
cry himself, was rubbing his bald head and looking
around in a maze.
" Take this little fellow," said Parker to Agnes ; " he's
half dead with cold and fright, poor little chap. Let
those two have it out, and we'll look after the boy."
Agnes took the little fellow in her arms; he was a
pretty, chubby child, between two and three years of
age ; he had been crying forlornly, but at the sight of
a bowl of warm mush and milk his tears ceased.
Polly had gathered her own brood about her, and
they were shrilly calling, " Daddy, daddy! " while Polly
herself had not taken her eyes off Jimmy's face. " It's
me own lad, me own lad," she crooned, rocking herself
back and forth. " An' where's yer hair, Jimmy dear ?
An' you with such a fine crop. An* how did ye git
here, an' are ye hungry ? "
" Hungry I am," was the response, " as anybody'd be
who'd not tasted bite nor sup since yesterday. I'd a
little parched corn, but it gave out yesterday. Faith !
I was not travellin' heavy handed, an' Polly, lass, lest
I'd be burdened with too much to carry, I left me
hair behind me." He gave a chuckle and took the
bowl which Agnes handed him, eating as a famished
man would.
WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT 145
" An' did ye know ye was coming this way, an' that
ye'd find me an' the bairns ? "
" Not a lick did I know where I'd be fetchin' up. I
took the coorse av the river an' reckoned upon its
bringing me out somewhere among daycint folks. It's
the freshet ye've to thank, Polly, for the sight av me.
I'd not got away but for it. The watter riz so high the
redskins concluded to move their camp, and in the kin-
fusion I slipped away, an' bein' a good swimmer, trusted
mesel' to the watter for a bit, and then I got ashore
and made me bit av raft an' consigned mesel' to the
river. I caught sight av the bairn there, as I passed
the snags, and thinks I, Jimmy O'Neill, ye've niver yit
been onwillin' to risk yer life fur a weak little creetur,
an' suppose it was one o* yer own bairnies ; so says I,
* I'll save it or lose me own skin.' He was settin' there,
the purtiest ye ever see, in the top av the stump, as
snug as if it had been a cradle, the watter swirlin'
around him an' tossin' him about. But he was well
balanced, somehow, an' niver a fut did he wet."
Agnes picked up the baby from where she had set
him in the midst of Polly's children. "What's your
name, baby ? " she asked.
" Honey," he replied. " I'se Honey, an' dad put me
in a big tree an' it sailded." And that was all they could
.get out of him, so Honey he remained.
" How his poor mother will mourn for him," said Polly,
hugging her own youngest close to her. " I wish we
146 A GENTLE PIONEER
could find out where he came from. I don't believe it
can be very far away, or he'd be in a worse plight."
" If it isn't far, maybe we can find out," said Parker.
" We'll keep him for the present, will we, Polly? "
" Will we ? Am I a brute to turn a baby out into the
worruld ? An' on a day when he's fetched home to me
by me own man ? "
" I'll take care of him," said Agnes, eagerly. " I'd
love to, Polly. Just hand him over to me; you've
enough of your own to look after."
" But I've me man to help me now," said Polly, joy-
ously, looking triumphantly toward Jimmy.
"What I want to know is how your man got here,
and all about his doings all this time," said Agnes.
" Tell us, Jimmy, where you have been all this time."
" Faith, then, with the redskins. They borry'd me
suit o' hair in the first place, an' left me for dead, but
dead I was not, though uncomfortable from the loss av
me chief adornmint, an' after a bit one av 'em comes
along: 'Ugh, 'says he; 'Ugh, yersel',' say I; 'I'm not dead,
though I look it.' Well, he tows me along wid him to
an Injun village, and they beeta keep me to kindle their
fire wid; an' whin I bursts me bonds that aisy, bein*
strong in me muscles an' arrums, as ye well know,
Polly, they're sort o' pleased, an' seein' me advantage,
says I, ' I'll do ye a better turn than to be kindlin' a fire
fur ye, fur a blacksmith I am be birth, an' I'll give ye
me sarvice in exchange fur me life.' Well, they pow-
WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT 147
wowed over it fur some time, some agreein' an' some
disagreein', but in the end they give me a chanst to live,
an* I won the chanst. I was plannin' to escape this
long back, but the freshet risin' up so suddent gimme
the opportunity I'd been lookin' fur, an' I comes in the
manner I stated. I'd no time fur hat or wig, Polly, an'
I'm lucky to be arrivin' with nayther."
" I hope they didn't treat you very badly," said
Agnes.
" No so bad ; there was another chap of me own
color, paleface as they say, an' he had been with 'em
this long while, so we two hobnobbed; an' though he
was more content than me, we got along fairly well.
He said as all o' his'n was kilt, he'd no call to leave,
an' he'd not take the risk, so I kim off by me lone. I'd
ha' gone back to the ould settlemint, but I'd ha' had me
journey for naught."
" Indeed would ye," said Polly. " What did I tell
ye ? " She turned to Agnes. " Would I give up hope?
Not I. I've looked for ye night an' morn, Jimmy
dear, an' I knew I'd see ye agin. Faith ! it's but the
other day I had me sign sure, an* I was right in be-
lavin' in it." She nodded emphatically in Parker's
direction, and he was obliged to confess that this time
the sign had not failed.
"There's wan thing I've learned, at any rate," Jimmy
remarked soberly, passing his hand over his bare poll,
" I'll nivir agin be skeered av the Injuns scalpin* me."
148 A GENTLE PIONEER
At which all laughed, and Polly rapturously embraced
him. Jimmy, with all his old joking ways, was hers
again, and Polly was content.
The return of the captive was a matter of great in-
terest in the settlement, and, strange to say, to none
more than to Fergus Kennedy who asked his tale of
adventure over and over again, and seemed more
brightened up by Jimmy's presence than by any one's.
Agnes rejoiced with the rest, but she was a little
troubled lest Polly should wish to leave her before the
arrival of Mrs. Kennedy, this being just the opposite of
that which had been her dilemma a short time before.
How easy the matter would be settled if her mother
would but come at once, and they could all go to the
home which the girl still insisted to herself was right-
fully theirs. She did not, however, consider another
point in the case till Parker Willett asked her one day
if she didn't think that now Jimmy had come, it would
be better for him to take up a piece of land for himself,
and leave them all in Jimmy's care.
Agnes, with Honey in her lap, toyed with the child's
flaxen locks before she answered. Honey had attached
himself with great decision to Agnes, and she was be-
ginning to love the little child very much. He seemed
to take the place of her own small brothers and sisters
more than Polly's children had ever done, and now
that Polly was so absorbed in Jimmy, the girl was
lonely at times. She answered Parker's question with
WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT * 149
another. " And is it on our account you have been
staying here all this time? You know I suspected it.
And you risked your life for Jimmy and Honey and
- should you go far ? " she asked a little tremulously.
" Not farther than I needs must to find a good bit
of land."
" You will not leave the neighborhood ? " She was
suddenly conscious that for her there would be a greater
vacuum when Parker left than when Archie went
away.
" No." He watched the girl's downcast face, and
he, too, was aware that he did not want to go very far
away. Yet There were no other words spoken for
a moment, and then the girl raised her eyes. " Do you
remember how we said at the time of the freshet that
it wasn't worth while to borrow trouble? And look
what the freshet did for Polly, though it did destroy a
part of our garden."
" And therefore you think my going away need not
be an unalloyed disaster ? That is very pleasant to
know. I was hardly conceited enough to think it
would cause any very great sorrow."
Agnes's fair face flushed. " I meant that it might be
the means of bringing you good fortune, and that
would be a pleasure to your friends, however much
they might miss you." She had grown much gentler
since the coming of Honey among them, Parker was
quick to perceive.
150 A GENTLE PIONEER
" If you keep on being so sweetly philosophical, I'm
afraid you will soon be ready to be a minister's wife,"
he said with a half smile.
Agnes compressed her lips. " Oh, do you think
so ? " she returned coldly. Then, after a pause, " Yes,
I am quite sure that Jimmy will be ample protection
for us, and as it is for your pleasure and profit to go
away, I advise you to do it."
There was a womanliness in her manner of speech
that set him wondering. Was it the reminder of the
minister's wife that so suddenly changed her ? Perhaps,
after all, it was not Honey, but Archie who was the
cause of the new gentleness. She was trying to pre-
pare herself for that new life with Archie ; that was
it. "Well, little girl," he said lightly, "then I will go;
but I shall keep track of you, and I shall see you
sometimes."
Sometimes ! He who had been a part of her daily
life for all these months would see her only sometimes,
just as she was learning his worth and her own depend-
ence upon him. She laid her cheek against Honey's
hair, and the touch gave her comfort. "Poor little
baby," she said, " I wonder whether your mother is
grieving for you. I almost hope he has no mother."
"Perhaps he has not. Would you like to know?"
" We ought to know."
" We have tried to find out, you remember, but we
can try again. I am going up the river a short dis-
WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT 151
tance to-morrow, now that the water has subsided, it
will be safe to go and I'll make inquiry of every one
along the way. Dod Hunter knows every one, and he
may be able to tell. I am going his way."
"Oh!"
" I heard of some good land in that direction and I
want to look it up."
" Across the river ? "
"Yes. Have you seen the M'Cleans lately?" he
asked abruptly.
"I saw them Sabbath."
"Have they heard from Archie?"
" Not yet ; they expect to any day now. I miss
Archie," she said simply.
" I should think you would ; he was by far the best
of the lads around here. But some day, you know "
" What ? "
" Did I not say just now that you were fast becom-
ing fitted to be a minister's wife?"
" Thank you." The voice was very low. They were
both silent for a time, and then Parker left her with the
evening's sunshine in her hair. Why, now that he must
leave her, had the girl suddenly appeared so fair to him ?
This new sweetness sat well upon her. How deeply
blue were her eyes, and what tender lights came into
them when she spoke of little Honey. Yes, it was
better that he should go now at once ; later it might be
harder. A minister's wife she would be, and as the
152 A GENTLE PIONEER
years passed by and she had learned her lessons of
patience and unselfish devotion, how lovable she would
become to those of her husband's congregation. " I
am a middle-aged man in her eyes," he said aloud, " and
it would be cruel to disturb her little tender heart now
when all is settled for her, and yet and yet " He
stood so long leaning on the fence that Agnes, watch-
ing him, wondered a little.
" He is thinking of home, maybe, and of his sister.
He will be so lonely off by himself and oh, I shall be
lonely, too. Oh, Honey, I, too. Polly has her Jimmy,
and poor father does not know, and if they take you,
oh, Honey, if they take you, how can I stand it ? But
there is mother," she said presently ; " she will be com-
ing soon."
" Mammy," said Honey. " Dad put Honey in a tree,
an' it sailded away. I lubs Nanny an' I 'ants my
supper."
" Honey shall have his supper," Agnes told him, and
she carried him into the house to have his mush and
milk with the other children. Then she crept to her
loft room. From the window she could see that Parker
was still leaning on the fence. Behind the hills the sun
was setting in a gorgeous sky. The willows emerging
from the late waste of waters showed their first tender
green ; the hylos piped shrilly. Agnes's heart throbbed
painfully. A beautiful world, and out of troubles some-
times arise blessings. She heard Jimmy's cheerful
WHAT THE FRESHET BROUGHT 153
voice below relating adventures to her father whose
pleased smile she fancied she could see. " I am lonely,
lonely," cried the girl. She arose from her little stool
by the window and, with a sudden resolve, clambered
down the ladder. Polly had stowed all the babies away
in the trundle-bed, and the four were fast asleep.
" Where are you going, Nancy ? " Polly asked.
" Out to smell the spring," was the answer, as the
girl shut the door behind her. She followed the path
uphill to the top. Before she reached the figure stand-
ing there she paused. The glory of the sky was to be
seen more plainly here. From the hollow below one
might imagine the day to be done, but here one could
see that rosy clouds swept across the sky and the yellow
light along the horizon still shone clearly.
Conscious of her presence, Parker turned suddenly.
She came and stood by his side. "One sees things
more distinctly from a height," he said musingly.
" Yes, it is quite dark indoors. I was so lonely and
I I saw you here by yourself. You will be lonely,
too, so often now, for you are going away you are
going away." There was a little catch in her voice,
and the man at her side put forth his hand and took
hers, cold and trembling, in his. Agnes looked up. His
touch brought comfort. " I'm not going to be a minis-
ter's wife," she said, her lips quivering. " I could
never be."
"Oh, little girl, little girl," he said softly, "how did
154 A GENTLE PIONEER
you know so well what to come and tell me ? I was
lonely, too, as lonely as you were, but I am older, much
older, and one must bear those things. It is harder
than you know for me to go away, but it is best. A
man must make his own home."
" Yes," faltered Agnes, " I know."
" But I'll come back."
" You said sometimes, only sometimes."
" I mean very often." He looked down at her but
checked the word that rose to his lips. " It would not
be fair," he told himself. " I have my way to make,"
he said aloud, " and there are some things, some ties
there at home, you know, some things that in honor
I cannot forget."
"Yes." It was all that Agnes could say, but she was
comforted beyond words, and the glory of the west was
reflected on the face of each as they turned from the
hilltop toward the little cabin nestled in the shadows
at the foot of the hill.
CHAPTER X
HONEY
THE next morning Parker started forth in search
of his land. Agnes watched him from her loft
room ; a new feeling of interest possessed her. This
man who had come to them first as an interloper, and
next had taken his place as a member of the household,
was now become a person of the greatest consideration
to her. How strange it seemed ! Was his feeling for
her only one of comradeship, or of pity for her loneli-
ness ? She remembered his warm clasp of her hand,
the look he gave her as they turned their backs to the
sunset. " Oh, I am happy," she murmured, " and I
want my mother." She was so long and so quiet up
there in her little room that Polly at last called to her,
" Your baby is fretting for you."
Then Agnes hurried down to take Honey in her arms
and to carry him out into the spring sunshine where her
father was working. Honey chuckled with glee at sight
of Fergus Kennedy. He had taken a great fancy to
both father and daughter, and preferred to be with
them rather than to play with Polly's children, who, it
'55
156 A GENTLE PIONEER
must be confessed, were inclined to " put upon him,"
as Polly herself declared.
Jimmy was bestirring himself and filling the place
with his large, cheerful presence. " How different, how
different he is from Parker," Agnes thought. Polly was
boisterous enough, but Polly, supplemented by a being
twice as big and noisy and loud-voiced, gave Agnes a
sense of being overpowered. She would not have ad-
mitted to any one that Polly was not a joy,, a delightful
companion, but it was nevertheless a fact that Polly and
Jimmy were too much for her, in certain moods, and
this morning she was glad to escape from the house.
The news of Jimmy's return brought many of the
neighbors to see him and to hear of his exploits ; some
came, too, to offer aid in whatever direction he might
require. " It's but me forge I want," he told them all,
"wanst I have that, I'll make mesel' useful to ye
all."
Parker Willett's going to hunt up a claim was a sub-
ject that Agnes did not care to hear discussed, though
as she went out of the house she heard Polly say : " It's
the dilicate way he's been brought up, maybe ; but he's
been pinin' for his own this manny a day, I'll be bound,
an' belike he's a lass at home that he's thinking of goin'
back for. Faith ! he'd ought to he married ; he's old
enough this long while."
" Maybe he's been waitin' for you to serve your time
o* mournin'," said Jimmy, jocularly, and Polly laughed
HONEY 157
hilariously, giving him a sounding slap on the back at
the suggestion.
" A girl at home. Maybe that was it, and that was
why he was thinking, thinking, so long last night,"
Agnes said to Honey. "Oh, Honey, Honey, maybe after
all he said no more because he is in honor bound. Oh,
Honey, Honey." She sat down and gathered the child
into her arms, weaving back and forth sorrowfully.
Honey put up his little hand and patted her cheek.
" Don' ky, Nanny, Honey lubbs oo," he said coax-
ingly.
Agnes kissed him. " Come," she said, "we'll go find
daddy." Honey nodded. The plan suited him exactly.
He had accepted his new surroundings with equanimity
after the first day when he had called for mammy and
daddy, but now he had Nanny and Daddy Kennedy, he
seemed quite content.
It was a weary day for Agnes ; she longed for yet
dreaded the return of Parker, for she persuaded herself
that it was as Polly had suggested, and that he had left
his heart down there in Virginia, and she was to him
but a little girl who had won his sympathy. " Yet, why ?
Why?" she said more than once, as she remembered
that last evening. " ' A man must make his own home,'
he said. We have kept him from doing that, and now,
now he will go away and he should have done so before.
Why didn't he go ? Why didn't he ? " she asked pas-
sionately. " What was it he said about some tie at
158 A GENTLE PIONEER
home ? some things that in honor he could not forget ?
I did not think then what he meant, but I know now.
He said he was older, so much older ; I am only a little
girl to him."
She did not run down to watch for his coming as she
had at first intended to do, but toward night her ears
were alert for the slightest sound, so that Polly chaffed
her for her nervousness. " You've skeert her with your
tales of Injuns," she said to Jimmy; " she'll be lookin'
for them at ivery turn now. Law, Nancy, you all but
skeered me ! What is it ? " For at the sound of ap-
proaching hoof beats Agnes had started to her feet.
" Nothing, at least I thought I heard something," she
stammered.
" Well, you are skeery to-night. That's nothin' but
Park Willett comin' back. You've heard his horse's
hoofs often enough not to jump out of your skin when
he's comin'. Come, set him a place at the table ; he'll
be hungry. I hardly thought he'd be back to-night."
Agnes was only too ready for an occupation which
would take attention from herself, and she disappeared
into the lean-to just as Parker entered the door. He
greeted them all pleasantly, but seemed quiet and pre-
occupied, eating his supper in silence. " Where's
Honey ? " he asked, as he pushed away his bowl and
trencher.
" Asleep long ago," Polly told him.
Parker sat looking thoughtfully at the empty bowl.
HONEY 159
"Where's Agnes?" he asked abruptly, pushing back
his stool.
Polly looked around. " She was here a bit ago. She
brought in your supper. I think she's in the lean-to.
Agnes, Nancy, where are ye kapin' yersel' ? Don't
mope there in the dark, lass."
As Agnes appeared Parker shot a swift glance at
her, but she did not look at him in return, instead she
crept around to the settle where her father was and
cuddled down by his side.
"Well," said Jimmy, "what luck, man? Have ye
rid far to-day?"
" Not so far. I was across the river. I think I've
found the land I want."
" That's good. A likely piece ? "
" It seems so."
" Where is it ? " asked Polly.
"Just beyond Muirhead's. Dod Hunter told me
of it."
"Muirhead, Muirhead, I mind that name," said
Jimmy, thoughtfully.
Parker turned to Agnes. There was a grave look on
his face. " I found where Honey belongs," he said
without preliminary. " He is Hump Muirhead's son."
" Oh ! " Agnes started up, the color dying out of
her face. Then she sat down again, and, burying her
face on her father's shoulder, she burst into tears.
" There, there, child, don't greet so," said Polly. " I
l6o A GENTLE PIONEER
suppose his mother is as fond of him as you are, even if
she is Hump Muirhead's wife."
" She is very fond of him ; so is the father, Dod
Hunter told me," Parker went on to say. " They have
been nearly distracted at the loss of the child. It seems
the old stump was one in which the boy was often placed
when his father was at work; he was fond of taking
him out with him, and the little rascal must have run
off and climbed into the stump himself one day when
his father was away. Perhaps he fell asleep waiting
for his father to come, and meantime the stream rose and
loosened the stump, so off it sailed. It is a miracle that
it didn't overturn and drown the boy. At all events, it's
Muirhead's boy, and I shall restore him to his parents
to-morrow bright and early, or rather, I'll take him as
far as Dod Hunter's, and he will see that he gets home
all right."
"I'm sorry to part with the little chap," said Polly,
"but I know what the feelin's of that mother must be.
It's a wonder we did not find out before who he
belonged to."
" Muirhead doesn't come over this side of the river
very often, and since the freshet most of the people
over there have been kept away by the high water and
the bad roads. They never doubted but the child was
drowned, Dod says. I saw Jerry, Polly. He sent his
respects to you, and his congratulations upon Jimmy's
return."
HONEY l6l
Polly laughed a little consciously. She knew quite
well that the fact of Jimmy's return was rather a blow
to Jerry.
Agnes had dried her tears and gone over to the
trundle-bed where the row of rosy children were sleep-
ing. Honey was her little cousin, and they were going
to take him from her. His father was her enemy, and
she could not hope to see the child again. She sat
watching the little sleeper, feeling very sorrowful at the
prospect of the morrow's parting.
All at once Jimmy gave his knee a sounding slap.
"I have it," he cried. "What a dunderhead I am!
To be sure, I know the name o' Muirhead. Who
better ? I hope I've not lost it," he muttered. Slip-
ping his great hand inside his hunting-shirt, he added,
as he drew forth a packet, " An* I hope it's not sp'ilt by
the wettin' I got." He slowly fumbled with the thongs
which tied the wrapping of deerskin. Polly watched
him curiously, and Parker drew near, hardly less curi-
ous. Having satisfied himself that the contents of the
packet were uninjured, Jimmy turned to Parker. " This
Muirhead," he said, " what might his first name be ? "
" Humphrey. They call him Hump Muirhead about
here."
Jimmy nodded assent. " That's straight. Father of
the young un ? "
" Yes, the boy's name is Humphrey, too ; but he can
get no nearer to it than Honey, and so he is called."
162 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Well, that's not in the case," said Jimmy, with an
air of importance which was rather funny. " He'd a
father, I suppose, this Muirhead ? "
Parker glanced quickly at Agnes, kneeling by the
trundle-bed. " He had a father who was captured
and probably killed by the Indians."
"Correct agin," said Jimmy. "There was Another
child, a daughter, was there ? Why faith ! if this isn't a
purty how-de-do. Come here, Nancy," he called sharply.
Agnes came over and sat down again by her father.
" What's your mother's name ? " asked Jimmy.
" Margaret Kennedy."
" And before she was married ? "
" Margaret Muirhead."
" Of Carlisle ? "
" Yes, of Carlisle. She is the daughter of Humphrey
Muirhead."
"Then," Jimmy leaned back and carefully spread out
upon his knee a bit of paper, the worse for wear, " it's
a quare thing I've here, an' it's quarer still that I 'ud
be bringin' it at wanst to the right place, an' that I
come mesel' fust off without so much as knowin' where
I was. But the workin's av Providence is mortial
strange. This here bit o' paper on me knee here," he
tapped it with his heavy finger, " this here's nothin' less
than a will, yer gran'ther's will, Nancy Kennedy."
" A will ! " Agnes started to her feet again.
Jimmy waved her back. " Jest wait a bit, an* I'll tell
HONEY 163
me tale ; sure it's a good wan as ye'd find in a book.
Yer gran'ther was took be the Injuns an' condemned to
death some five or six year back as I understand. The
same band o' marauders that took Jimmy O'Neill took
him, but he wa'n't so lucky as Jimmy, havin' been dead
this manny a day, pore soul. Well, faith, sirs, in that
same camp o' Injuns was the same white man I was
tellin' ye about a while back, an' when it come that
Muirhead knowed he'd have to die, he gits a chanst
to have spache with the paleface, who'd been adopted
like into the tribe, an' is given some privileges. Says
Muirhead, * I've got to die, an' if yer a friend an' a
brother, ye'll do me a turn,' says he. ' I've made me
will, but not signed it, an' it's in me home,' sez he, ' an*
no good is it there at all, since I can't reach me hand
so far to make me mark to it. Now it's poor the chanst
is, but I'd like to take it, an' I've a bit av paper here,
the back av a letter, that'll do. I'll make another will
an' sign it in yer prisence an* in the prisence o' some
o' me comrades that's been took wid me, an' if ye'll
skirmish 'round an' fetch me the paint pot the Injuns
uses for their decraytin', I'll be obliged to ye.' "
The auditors were listening eagerly ; it was surely a
strange tale. Jimmy sat looking into the fire for a mo-
ment before he went on. " The white man, Brown be
name, got him the paint, an* Muirhead wrote, wid a
quill, what's here. Will ye be kind enough to read it,
Mr. Willett?"
1 64 A GENTLE PIONEER
He handed it to Parker who took it carefully and
read :
" I, Humphrey Muirhead, being of sound mind,
and being at the point of death at the hands of Indians,
do hereby make my last will and testament. To my
daughter, Margaret Kennedy, of Carlisle, wife of
Fergus Kennedy, and her heirs, I will and bequeath
all whereof I die possessed whether real or personal
estate, with the exception of one shilling which I give
to my son Humphrey Muirhead.
"(Signed) HUMPHREY MUIRHEAD.
"October 15, 1793.
{JOHN STARK,
WILLIAM BROWN,
HENRY FOSTER."
" What'd .1 tell ye ? Hear to that ! " cried Polly, in
ecstasy.
" Me tale's not done," said Jimmy, with a silencing
nod. " He furthermore says to Brown : ' It's a poor
chanst fur me daughter to git her own, but if be at
any time ye see a chanst o' gittin this to me friends,
give it to anny one that'll take it,' says he. ' I'll trust
ye/ he says, 'bein' as yer one o' me own race.' Well,
Brown, he'd not then made up his mind to tarry along
with the redskins, an' he says he'll take it. So the
next day Muirhead, poor soul, is despatched, an' Brown
keeps the bit o' paper. He's a quare fish, is Brown.
The Injuns make him wan o' them t an' he'll not return
HONEY 165
to his own when he gits a chanst, but I misdoubt it
ain't for a rayson, fur more'n wan o' his own color
has he been able to git off to their friends. He didn't
put obstacles in my way o' goin' ; in truth, he rayther
encouraged it, an' he trusted this to me ; ' For,' says he,
'if anybody kin git away, it's yersel', Jimmy O'Neill,
who's so strong. An' if ye kin seek out the darter o'
this man Muirhead, he'll lie aisier in his grave if grave
he had, poor soul.' "
" Oh, poor grandfather, poor grandfather ! " sobbed
Agnes.
" Now don't greet, child," said Polly. " He's at rest
this long while."
But the tale had a silencing effect upon them all, and
they sat for some time, each pondering over it. It was
Parker who broke the silence by saying, "This will
oust Humphrey Muirhead from his snug quarters, and
give your mother, Agnes, the house you want for her."
"Yes, I know," returned Agnes, in a subdued voice,
" but ah me, how strange it is that in this much desired
thing there should be a sting, for we must rob dear
little Honey of his home."
" He's too young to know the difference," said Polly,
sharply, "and his father's well able to make him
another. He's no worse off, an' not so bad as my
bairns were when they were driven out with no one
but their mother to do for them."
Jimmy patted Polly's plump hand. " It's the good
166 A GENTLE PIONEER
mother ye were, Polly, an' the bairns do ye credit. Well,
this is a strange piece of news all around ; it's more
of a tangle than ye' 11 unsnarl in one evening, I'm think-
ing. Now, what's yer tale ? I don't git quite the rights
av it."
Polly told him of Agnes's quest and of the surly re-
ception she had received ; of Dod Hunter's account of
Humphrey Muirhead's first wife and of his son, and at
last the situation was clear to Jimmy. "Then who'll
show the gintleman the will ? " he asked. " I'll wager
he'll drop his feathers when he sees it. I'm ready to
vouch for my part of the tale."
" I am going over again soon," said Parker, " and if
you will trust the will to me, I'll face Mr. Humphrey
Muirhead and learn what he has to say. I am very sure
that I should much prefer Mr. Kennedy for a neighbor
to Hump Muirhead ; it is mainly on his account that I
have hesitated about the land ; they say he can be an
ugly neighbor if he takes a dislike to any one."
Jimmy replaced the bit of paper in its deerskin cover-
ing. " I reckon it's as well to keep this out of sight till
ye see how the land lays," he said. " If so be he wants
to see it, ye can take it to him or he kin come here an*
have a look at it. Meantime we'll keep quiet an' wait
till he shows fight. That's best, ain't it, Fergus ? " He
addressed Agnes's father who nodded assent. He had
not taken in the gist of the matter, but was quite will-
ing to agree with Jimmy O'Neill, who somehow appeared
HONEY 167
to be able to arouse him from his apathy more than any
one else.
In the morning Parker bore Honey away, Agnes
shedding many tears over the child, to the baby's
amazement and Parker's distress. " Don't, little girl,"
he said softly, as he leaned down from his saddle and
touched her hand. " Think of that will, and of how
everything will come out finely for you." But Agnes
did not respond ; instead, she turned and went into the
house while Parker galloped off, holding Honey snugly
in front of him, the little fellow delighted enough to be
taking the ride.
It was a lonely day for the girl, in spite of the fact
that she now could look forward to possessing that
longed-for home of her grandfather's. Yet, though she
tried to picture all her family gathered together under
one roof, and the happy reunion that now could not be
very far away, she felt an undercurrent of sadness that
accompanied all her thoughts. " He said he would like
to be our neighbor," she said to herself, " and he will be
that, but if he brings home a wife, I would rather he
would be far away." She went about her work so list-
lessly that Polly was quite concerned. " I didn't sup-
pose that baby 'ud take such a holt on ye," she said.
"I tell ye what ye better do, Nancy; just go over to
Jeanie M'Clean's. Ye've been so clost at home with
that young un that ye've skeerce been off the clearin'.
Ye beeta have some change. Ye kin git the news
168 A GENTLE PIONEER
they'll be havin', an* if they want ye to stay awhile,
there's nothin' to hinder. So be it'll break up the habit
ye have o' living with the child."
Agnes agreed with Polly that this would be a good
plan. She had not seen Jeanie for some time, their last
meeting being the Sabbath before at church, and then
they had not had the opportunity for much of a chat,
for David was in attendance and Agnes had purposely
kept out of the way. She began pensively to wonder
how David's courtship came on, and if he had overcome
his shyness, and then she sighed. " Jeanie shall not see
that I am out of spirits," she said to herself, as she
started forth, "for she will not understand how there
could be any reason for it when everything is going so
well, and I do not know myself why it is. I am a silly
little goose, that is all, and I must try to put on a cheer-
ful countenance and stop dreaming silly dreams."
And, indeed, as she ran along her spirits rose, for
spring was in the air, and there is hope in the spring,
even though it does awaken all the longings of one's
nature ; and as Agnes took her way through the sweet-
smelling woods, she gradually put away sorrowful
thoughts, remembering only that she would see her
mother soon, and that it was Parker himself who agreed
with her that out of evil might come good. Moreover,
she told herself, it was only a notion of Polly's about
his having a sweetheart in Virginia. Why need she
believe it ? There was nothing to prove it to be so.
HONEY 169
Having taken this view of the question, she was soon in
a happy frame of mind. The birds were beginning to
be heard in the trees overhead ; at her feet the wild
flowers were springing up, and tender shoots of green
were appearing to make a misty distance. The world
was throbbing with expectant life, and it was foolish to
suppose that a youthful heart could long despair. And
therefore Jeanie's visitor appeared before her blithe and
smiling.
CHAPTER XI
AT THE END OF THE VISIT
" T T TELL, you are a stranger," was Jeanie's greet-
V \ ing. "You've not been here for two weeks,
and I hardly had a glimpse of you on Sabbath day.
We have heard from Archie since then and I have been
meaning to come over to see you, but we are so busy
nowadays since Archie went away ; we often wish you
and your father were with us again."
" I've been busy, too," said Agnes, seating herself on
the broad stone which formed the doorstep of the
M'Cleans' cabin. " Ah, but I have much to tell you,
Jeanie; it seems as if I hadn't seen you for a year.
But first, what of Archie ? "
" He reached grandfather's safely and they were
overjoyed to see him. He was ready to begin his
studies, and will it not be fine that we shall have a
meenister in the family ? "
" How did the letter come, and was there none for
me?"
" There was but a line. He said he would write
again by the first opportunity. He had yet to see your
mother, but would go at once and deliver your mes-
170
AT THE END OF THE VISIT 171
sages. He had a chance to send this letter at a few
moments' notice, and so he could only give us the
account of his health and his prospects, and that is
about all. Are you disappointed that he did not write
to you, Nancy ? "
" I wanted to hear of my mother. I hoped she would
be coming soon," returned Agnes, evading a direct
answer.
" Perhaps she will be here 'before long ; this letter
was long on the way and might well have been outrun
by one travelling more swiftly than the bearer who
stopped often along the way. Now your news, Nancy.
Were you harmed by the freshet ? and isn't it mar-
vellous that Jimmy O'Neill should have come back?"
" It is marvellous, and he is marvellous, the same old
roystering Jimmy, for all his adventures. And it is so
strange to see him with no hair on his head after being
used to that bushy poll of his. Polly is so happy that
she is noisier than ever; indeed, Jeanie, betwixt Polly
and Jimmy and the bairns there is little quiet to be had
anywhere unless one goes off into the woods."
" But do you like quiet ? "
" Sometimes."
" Then what's come over you, Nancy Kennedy ? You
were a regular hoyden when last I saw you, and you to
be talking of liking quiet." And Jeanie laughed.
" Did you hear about Honey ? " Agnes asked, not
noticing the laugh.
172 A GENTLE PIONEER
" What Honey ? Whose Honey ? "
" Muirhead's Honey, the little child who was saved
from the flood."
" Law, no ; at least I did hear some such tale, but it
passed out of my mind at the news of Jimmy's return."
" It was Jimmy O'Neill who saved the baby and
Parker Willett who rescued them both. He is so brave."
Agnes spoke softly and with a far-away look upon her
face.
"That was brave; tell me about it."
"He took a little skiff and ventured out upon that
swift, raging water, when it was as much as one's life
was worth to go a rod from shore, and all in among
those tree-tops along by the run, he steered the boat till
he reached a place where Jimmy could be taken in the
boat, and the child, too ; the baby, you know, was tucked
away in an old hollow stump and was sailing down-
stream that way. It was Jimmy who first saw him and
got him aboard his raft ; but they could not have reached
shore but for Parker, and he lets Jimmy take all the
credit, and will not listen to a word about his own part
in it." Agnes's cheeks glowed, and she talked excitedly.
Jeanie looked at her in surprise. " I thought you did
not like Mr. Willett, the man who tried to rob you of
your home."
"We do like him." Agnes wisely adopted the plural.
" He didn't know that the house belonged to us, you
know that. It was Muirhead who misled him."
AT THE END OF THE VISIT 173
" Muirhead again ; he is a disagreeable uncle to have.
Was the baby really his ? What a strange thing ! Is it
a nice baby, Agnes, or disagreeable like his father ? "
" He is the bonniest bairnie," Agnes replied. " I love
him, and I am glad he is my little cousin, though I shall
probably never see him again. Parker Willett took
him home this morning, or at least he took him to Dod
Hunter's, and he will see that he gets home safely. I
believe the reason Mr. Willett didn't take him all the
way was because he didn't want Hump Muirhead to
think he had any part in saving Honey. I venture to
say he has told Dod that it was all Jimmy's doings.
Mr. Willett is going to leave us, Jeanie."
" Is he ? I should suppose he would, now that Jimmy
has come. I don't imagine you are very sorry."
Agnes was silent, but the color rushed to her face.
" We shall miss him," she said after a moment. " I
shall particularly," she went on bravely. " No one was
ever so polite and kind to me as he, for he never will let
me do a thing which he can do for me. He will bring
water from the spring and will get up early to work in
the garden, and he waits on me as if I were a prin-
cess. Could I help missing him ? Jimmy never does
those things ; he isn't lazy, Jimmy isn't, but he expects
us to do all the little things while he does only the big
ones."
" That is more manly."
Agnes's face flamed. " No, it isn't ; it may be the
1/4 A GENTLE PIONEER
way of men like Jimmy, but it isn't the way gentlemen
like Parker Willett do."
"Why, Nancy!" Jeanie looked at her in astonish-
ment. " You certainly do stand up for Mr. Willett. I
think he is handsome and polite and all that, but I
always felt that he was hard to get acquainted with;
I mean he hasn't our everyday ways."
"I'm glad he hasn't," Agnes flashed out again.
" Oh, you are very complimentary. Perhaps you
don't like our ways, either. For my part I am too inde-
pendent, and I hope not so lazy that I like people to
wait on me ; I would rather do for myself anything
that I am strong enough to do, and let the men attend
to their own work."
" I would, too, in a measure ; but I like to see a man
ready to spare a woman when he can, and I didn't mean
your ways, for your ways are our own, too, but I was
thinking of Polly."
" But you like Polly and try to be like her ; you are
getting to be quite like her; we have all been thinking
so."
Agnes looked aghast. " I didn't know it," she said
faintly. " I don't want to be. Oh, I'm not. I'm not.
Polly is a dear, good woman, but but Mr. Willett's
sister wouldn't be like her, nor his mother. I can fancy
them, the mother a stately dame, and the sister so
dainty and sweet ; I wonder he can stand us."
" I don't know what you mean," said Jeanie, loftily.
AT THE END OF THE VISIT 175
"We are good enough for any one. If he doesn't like
us, he can leave us. I'm sure nobody cares about
having him here, for we are all of a different race, any-
how, I don't mean that exactly; but we are Scotch-
Irish and like to go with our own kind, and he is a
Church of England man and is cold and proud."
" He's not; he's not a bit. I'd like to know who are
prouder and more clannish than these same Scotch-
Irish, and Mr. Willett says we are self-contained and
stand off by ourselves, and that is what all strangers
say of us. You shall not say such things of Mr. Willett,
Jeanie M'Clean."
" Well, I declare ! I believe you are in love with
him," exclaimed Jeanie. And then Agnes burst into
tears, and at the same moment came into her mind a
remembrance of how she had teased Jeanie into reveal-
ing her heart's secret, and she told herself that this was
her retribution. Jeanie sat still for a moment in a state
of surprise. Agnes and Archie had always been asso-
ciated in her mind as lovers, and her remark was meant
not to strike home, but was simply a chance shot
directed because of her annoyance.
She waited till Agnes's sudden flurry of tears was
over, and then she put an arm around her. " I oughtn't
to have said that, Agnes," she confessed, "for there is
Archie, and of course you would not think of Mr. Wil-
lett ; he is too old for a girl like you, and I knew you
never thought of him in that way." In the eyes of the
176 A GENTLE PIONEER
seventeen-year-old maid to be twenty-five was to be
middle-aged. " I knew something had gone wrong,"
she went on, "when I told you we had heard from
Archie ; I knew you expected a letter, and it is a hard
thing to have a disappointment like that."
Agnes hung her head. " I wasn't thinking of the
letter, Jeanie," she said truthfully. "I think Archie
has gone out of my life altogether, and I am not like to
marry at all, for there will be mother and the children,
and I am the eldest."
" Yes ; but by the time Archie has finished his studies
Sandy will be old enough to manage, and the others will
be out of leading-strings. I am the eldest at home, too,
but oh, you will not be an old maid, Agnes, nor
will I."
" Nor will you ? No, I think not," Agnes smiled,
"for there is David."
"Yes, there is David. That is one of the other
things I had to tell. It is David."
" Really ? Really, Jeanie ? " Agnes caught her
friend's hands in hers. " Has he summoned courage ?
And when was it ? and when will it be ? Tell me all.
How could you keep it all this time, you naughty lassie ?"
" I kept it till the last. I wanted to tell you since
last Sabbath day when he came to sit up with me, and
he and father discoursed so long upon the sermon I
thought I'd never get a word from him ; but when mother
was putting the bairnies to bed, father heard a noise
AT THE END OF THE VISIT 177
among the beasts, and he went out to see what it was,
and so and so then we were alone, and it was so
quiet, oh, so quiet, for neither of us spoke for a long
time, and then I laughed and said, ' Why don't you say
something ? ' And he he did say something."
" I am so glad," said Agnes. " And does he come
every evening to sit up with you ? "
" Yes, every evening, and we are to be married this
spring. There will be a house-raising, Nancy, and I
am very happy in all except that I wish Archie were
here. Father and mother are quite satisfied, for David
is sober and industrious and "
" I am a witch."
" You truly are. I wish now you would bewitch some
one yourself and follow my example if if it isn't
Archie."
Agnes's face grew pensive. " I am not bewitching
in that way, Jeanie."
" Ah, but you are. I know Mr. Willett is rather old,
but all do not think so, for that Sabbath when you rode
to meeting with him, many said it would be a good
thing and convenient all around ; and since Jimmy has
come back, I have heard more speculation upon the
same subject."
Agnes shook her head. " I know the gossips will
talk, but Jimmy's coming back will not affect that. All
is not settled yet nor can be till my mother comes. My
father seems brighter, Jeanie. Jimmy's coming seems
N
178 A GENTLE PIONEER
to have done him good in some way. I think Jimmy
stirs up his poor brain and makes it work better. Of
course Jimmy and Polly will want to have a home of
their own, and we shall have ours, but how and when I
don't know yet. Now, let us talk of David."
" Indeed, then, I've something else to do," Jeanie re-
plied, laughing and jumping up. "We've gossiped so
long I have forgotten my work, but I regret naught said
except your calling Parker Willett our better."
" Indeed, I did not mean that, Jeanie. He is no
better, but different in his ways."
" Ah, that's more like it. We'll leave it so, then."
The little settlement had thriven apace, and now
quite a village had sprung up around and beyond the
M'Cleans'. There was talk of a schoolmaster for the
children, and a site for the log schoolhouse had already
been selected. Better dwellings, too, were to be seen
here and there, and the Muirhead's house was no longer
the best in the neighborhood. The clearings showed
their garden patches thriftily planted with Indian corn,
pumpkins, potatoes, and other vegetables. The rude
farming implements had increased in number, and tan
vats and forges were to be seen here and there. Most of
the little farms displayed homely comfort, and if not lux-
ury, at least plenty. Joseph M' Clean had worked early
and late, and although not one of the earliest comers,
his clearing compared favorably with the others. The
outbuildings, stout and weather-safe, gave shelter for the
AT THE END OF THE VISIT 179
cattle and storage for the crops. In the woods ran
wild the herd of porkers which, feasting on acorns and
other nuts, were easily raised, and when one was re-
quired for food, it was despatched by a shot from Joseph's
rifle. The loom and spinning-wheel were ever busy, and
now would be busier than ever turning out the rolls of
linen and wool which would be required for Jeanie's
wedding-chest. Much talk there was over it all, the
homely Scotch-Irish phrases cropping out ever and anon
as the matter was discussed by the women of the settle-
ment, who, like those of to-day, were all agog when a
wedding was in prospect. To be sure the wedding-
clothes did not demand very much time or attention.
Linsey-woolsey, that combination of linen and wool,
furnished the material for one or two petticoats. " Six
hundred " linen, made from home-grown flax, was suffi-
ciently good for a few bedgowns or sacques to be worn
with the petticoats, and the same linen cut into squares
and hemmed made the neckerchiefs. For winter wear
there was the fur jacket of squirrel skin, and as styles
did not alter, there was not much difficulty in fashion-
ing the garments necessary. Yet with the flax hackling,
the spinning, and weaving there was quite enough to
be done, and Agnes was glad to lend a hand.
" If this is what calls you in," she said, as Jeanie led
the way to the loom, " I'm glad to bear my part. How
comfortable you have everything here, Jeanie." She
looked around admiringly at the neat room, which
1 80 A GENTLE PIONEER
showed traces of the care of both the master and mis-
tress of the establishment.
"Yes, we have everything most convenient," said
Jeanie, "and it's main due to Archie. We do miss
Archie and his handy ways."
" Will he no be coming to the wedding ? "
" Not he. It is too far and it takes too long. My
mother would have me wait till Archie could tie the
knot, but David is persistent. David doesn't talk much,
but when he wants to make a point, somehow one must
give in to him."
" It's to be hoped, then, for your sake, that his points
will be such as you can approve," laughed Agnes.
"Ah, but they will be," returned Jeanie, with the
blissful assurance of one in love.
" Shall I take the loom or the wheel?" asked Agnes.
" Oh, the wheel," returned Jeanie, adjusting the
heavy clacking machine before which she stood. And
soon the buzz of the wheel and the clatter of the loom
drowned their attempts at conversation except when
Jeanie stopped to tie a thread or Agnes replenished her
wool. They could, however, entertain themselves in
another way, and presently Agnes started up one of
the old psalms and Jeanie joined in.
Very sweet did the girlish voices sound to the accom-
paniment of the whirring wheel and the shuffling loom,
and David thought so as he paused outside to listen.
Jeanie, tall and straight, her dark eyes aglow, flung out
VERY SWEETLY DID THE GIRLISH VOICES SOUND.
AT THE END OF THE VISIT 181
her song with spirit as she sent her shuttle back and
forth. Agnes, fair and graceful, stepped forward and
back, and sang less vehemently but with more sweet-
ness. " It's a pretty picture," said David to himself,
"and I hate to disturb it, but a man can't keep back
good news."
As his figure darkened the doorway the two girls
turned, and a rosy flush mounted to Jeanie's dark cheek.
She stopped her work and stood still, but Agnes went
on faster. " It's not the time to stop," she said, nod-
ding merrily to David, " or Jeanie's chest will not be full
against the wedding."
" But ye'll be thinking that what I have to tell is
more important than Jeanie's chest," he replied, " though
maybe as it's to Jeanie's advantage to keep you at it,
I had better keep silence."
"You'll not then," Agnes returned, pausing so sud-
denly that her thread broke off with a snap, " for not
another turn do I make till I hear what you have to
tell."
David gave Jeanie a reassuring nod. " You'll not
have me keep it from her, Jean, when ye know what
it is," he said, "though it maybe will defraud your
chest. It's just this, Nancy : your mother and her
bairns are on the road and must soon be here. I gal-
loped on when I learned it."
" My mother ! My mother ! " Agnes clasped her
hands, and her cry went up like a shout of praise.
1 82 A GENTLE PIONEER
Then without another word she ran from the house
toward the road, tears of sudden joy filling her eyes.
" She made quick work with her heels," said David,
looking after her with amazement. Such swiftness of
movement was beyond him.
" How does she know which way to go ? " said
Jeanie.
" There's but the one, she thinks, and that toward the
village. She'll not miss them."
" And did you see them, David ? "
"I did."
" Where were they ? "
"They had just come into the village on Adam Kin-
sey's broad."
" And then ? Go on, David."
" Dod Hunter agreed to bring 'em along in his ox-cart.
It's slow going, and Nancy needn't hurry."
" We might go and meet them, too. There's no use
trying to overtake Nancy, but we might go on toward
the road and meet them before they get here."
"There's no use going so soon," said David, "for
they'll not be getting this far for half an hour yet.
I'll bide here with you awhile Jean." He settled him-
self imperturbably. " I'll not interfere with your work,"
he went on, " and ye can give me a word once in a
while, lass. I'd as soon treat me eyes to a look of ye
as me ears to the sound of your voice," which rather
doubtful compliment Jeanie was not disposed to take
AT THE END OF THE VISIT 183
amiss, knowing that David wanted nothing better than
to sit and look at her.
Meanwhile Agnes had run tumultuously along the
path leading to the river road, and at last, out of breath,
was obliged to settle down to a walk. Her heart was all
aflame with the thought of seeing her mother, and once
or twice she fairly sobbed out her delight. Reared
though she had been among the self-contained Scots,
her later association with the demonstrative Polly had
encouraged the free outlet of her youthful feelings.
When at last the slow ox-team hove in sight, she again
quickened her pace and went flying to meet it, crying,
" Mother ! mother ! mother ! "
The deliberate oxen came to a halt, and Dod Hunter
rested his goad upon the ground as the flying figure
approached.
" It's my lass! I'll be getting down. It's my lass,"
said Mrs. Kennedy, her voice all of a tremble. And by
the time Agnes had reached the team her mother stood
by the side of the road. Then in another minute the
dear arms were around her, and she heard, in a broken
whisper : " My lass, my bairnie ! Praise God I hold
you at last! It has been a weary time, a weary time."
Then came shrill little voices from the cart and the
scrambling of feet over its side, and Agnes was clasped
on one side by Sandy and on the other by Jock and
Jessie. "Ah, Sandy, I'd know your blessed freckled
face anywhere," the girl cried, giving him a frantic hug.
1 84 A GENTLE PIONEER
" And Jock, my lad, how you've grown, and Jessie, too.
Bless her dear blue eyes ; she's shy of me, poor child,
and no wonder when she hasn't seen me for so long.
But where is Margret ? "
"There, don't you see? She's holding the baby,"
Jock informed her.
" My little brother Fergus, and I've never seen him.
Ah, I must get to him and to Margret. She's the same
faithful bairnie she ever was," and Agnes climbed into
the cart to look for the first time upon the solemn little
face of her two-year-old baby brother.
And then what a chatter there was ! Between an-
swering and asking questions Agnes hardly paused,
and after a while Dod Hunter, plodding along by the
side of his oxen, looked back with a sly twinkle in his
eye. Agnes laughed. " I know you think me a great
chatterbox, Uncle Dod ; but I've not seen them for two
long years, and my heart fairly seems ready to fly out
of my body, and as that doesn't happen, it is the talk
that will fly out of my mouth."
" I wonder ye've the breath left," said the old man,
"if ye kept up the pace from M'Clean's that ye brought
up here with."
" I didn't run all the way, but when I got out of
breath I had to walk. Ah, but I wanted wings."
" Do you think we've changed her, marm ? " asked
Dod of Mrs. Kennedy.
" She is taller and not so serious."
AT THE END OF THE VISIT 185
" Who could be serious at such a time ? " laughed
Agnes.
" And she has a way with her that is new to me."
"It's maybe offen Polly O'Neill she has that," said
Dod, wagging his head.
Agnes flushed up. She did not like to be compared
to Polly, much as she loved the dear creature, and it
was the second time that day that the comparison had
been made. " I'll be my old self now with my mother
near me," she said gravely. " I have run wild, I know,
and Polly has not checked me. Polly has not your
ways, mother, and sometimes I have been forgetting;
but Polly is a good woman and has been like a sister
to me."
" Your girl is a good, brave lass, and you've no cause
to be ashamed of her," Dod declared.
" I could never be that, I well know," Mrs. Kennedy
returned quietly.
Sometimes walking with Jock and Sandy, sometirries
riding with Margret cuddled one side and Jessie the
other, the baby on her lap, Agnes made the journey
back to the M 'Cleans' gate, where Mrs. M 'Clean, Jeanie,
and David stood waiting for the party.
"You'll better be dropping some of your load here,"
Mrs. M'Clean suggested.
" Oh, no, no." Agnes positively refused to consider this.
" But where will you stow them all in your bit of a
cabin ? "
1 86 A GENTLE PIONEER
" We'll hang them up on pegs rather than leave one
behind," Agnes declared. "We'll manage somehow."
But Mrs. M 'Clean shook her head as they started
off. " We've a deal of room, now Archie's gone," she
said, " and where they'll stow those five children, not to
mention Margaret Kennedy hersel', I don't know."
But she did not know Polly and her resources.
CHAPTER XII
MOTHER
POLLY'S face beamed a welcome on the travellers.
The fact that the little cabin contained but the
living room and the lean-to downstairs and the two
little loft chambers above, did not disturb her in the
least when the matter of accommodating five extra
persons was to be considered. " Let me see," she said
meditatively, " the two biggest lads can sleep in one o'
the loft rooms, and Agnes can take Margret in with her ;
then the other two little ones an* my youngest can have
the trundle-bed, and the father an' mother the big bed
below, an' Jimmy an' mesel' with the others can go to
the barn."
" Turn you out ! I'd like to see us," said Agnes. "I
can take both my sisters in with me, and the lads can
go to the barn. They're well off to have no worse
place, and they'll not mind it in the least." And though
Polly protested and brought Jimmy into the discussion,
it was at last managed as Agnes had suggested.
A new light came into Fergus Kennedy's eyes as he
beheld his wife and children, but he seemed bewildered
at seeing baby Fergus, and poor Mrs. Kennedy could
187
1 88 A GENTLE PIONEER
hardly restrain her tears. In these long months letters
had passed but seldom, and Agnes had written cautiously
of her father's condition. She was always hoping that
he would be quite like his old self, or, at the least, very
much better by the time her mother came. He seemed
quietly content, and followed his wife everywhere, but
there was no enthusiasm ; and to the weary traveller,
arrived in a new country, happy though she was at the
reunion, there came a little heart-sinking as the night
approached. After the younger children were sleeping
sweetly and Fergus had gone out with Jimmy to see that
all was safe at the barn, the mother sought her first-born,
for whom her heart had been yearning all these long
months.
Agnes had not gone to bed, but she had seen that her
little sisters were comfortable, and then she had crouched
down by her small window, and sat there looking out
into the starry heavens. Outside the forest girdled the
house, while beyond one could catch, here and there, the
gleam of the river through the trees. All was silent
except for the cry of some wild bird in the deep woods, or
the barking of a fox in the underbrush.
Mrs. Kennedy drew up a little stool, and Agnes, her
arms around her mother's waist, sat on the floor by her
side. " It is good, so good to have you, mother," said
the girl.
Her mother stroked the soft auburn hair and drew
her daughter closer, but she said nothing.
MOTHER 189
" What are you thinking of, mother ? Does it seem
very strange to you here ? " Agnes asked.
" I am thinking of how lonely my little lamb must
have been for many a day in that first settlement where
wolves attacked her and where Indians threatened,
and how, if I had realized it all, I think my heart
would have misgiven me when it came time to have
her go."
"It was lonely," Agnes confessed, "but since we
came here it has been less so, and the Indians are not
so troublesome now that the settlement grows and
thrives, and only those who stray too far need fear.
You are not afraid of them, mother ? "
" No ; yet, when I saw your father and felt what it
was they had done to him, a horror arose within me."
" Yes, I miss father," returned Agnes, " father as he
was, but he might have had a wound as bad in war, and
he does grow a little better he really does ; he was
much worse at first. Oh, mother, I am glad for his
sake that I came with him, for they might never have
found him that dreadful day."
" Yes, yes, I know, and I am thankful, so thankful
that I have both my brave daughter and my husband
spared to me, though your father does seem so strange.
And there was my own poor father, too, a victim to the
savages."
"Ah, yes. But, mother, you have not heard. Such
a wonderful thing I must tell you. There was a will,
IQO A GENTLE PIONEER
after all." And Agnes told her the whole story, her
mother listening eagerly. " And now," she said, as she
concluded, " Mr. Willett will take steps to see that we
get our rights."
"Thank God!" ejaculated her mother. "Ah, my
dear lass, I was sore hearted to know what we would
do, for the space here is main small for all of us."
"Yes, but it is coming summer, and we need not
mind. Ah, mother, I am used now to this backwoods
way of living, and you will be, too, soon. I am afraid
it will be some time before we can get possession of the
house, for Humphrey Muirhead will stay till he is put
out. Did you know about him, mother ? "
" Yes," she answered slowly. " My father told me
the last time that I saw him alive. * He's no credit to
us, daughter,' he said, ' and will likely never cross your
path. I'd have more for you but for him, and it's but
right that what is left should be yours, although he is
the eldest and bears my name. I have made my will/
he said "
" Did he tell you that ? "
" He told me that."
" But he did not sign it. I think that ruffian uncle
of mine must have known about it."
" If he did not sign it, of course it was of no value.
Your grandfather had a housekeeper after my mother's
death ; the woman was a half-breed, but quite a good
creature. I don't know what has become of her. The
MOTHER 191
house is a good one, your grandfather said, and the
farm was well stocked."
" I'm afraid, from all accounts, that it is going to be
hard work to get anything, but we shall see. It is a
good thing to have friends, mother."
"And this Mr. Willett, he is a good friend? You
remember I haven't seen him."
" He is a good friend," Agnes answered slowly, "and
so are the M'Cleans. You saw Archie ? "
"Yes, a fine lad." She laid her hand gently on
Agnes's head. " What did he tell me but that my little
girl would have the chance of becoming a meenister's
wife ? "
" He told you that ? "
" Yes."
"And what did you say ? "
" I said, ' My little lass is far too young/ "
" Am I so young ? Seventeen, mother."
" So you are. I did not count in the years you have
been away from me, but you will not leave me now, my
lamb ? Not yet ? "
"Oh, mother, I have no thought of such a thing.
Archie is a good laddie and has been kinder than I can
tell you, but I do not think of him in that way. He
will be away long enough to forget, I think."
" Not forget, boyish though his love may be, but he
may learn to care for some other with whom he may be
thrown. Yet, I would not object to giving my little girl
IQ2 A GENTLE PIONEER
to a good man, and I might like the honor of becoming
mother-in-law to a meenister."
"You'll be no one's mother-in-law yet awhile."
Agnes gave her mother a fervent hug. " I shall help
you to raise the children, and you know, you have much
to learn of me, for I am a pioneer this long time, while
you are quite new to it."
" Saucy little child, to talk of teaching your mother.
This Mr. Willett, when shall we see him ? I have
many questions to ask him."
" He comes quite often."
" He is a young man ? "
" Not very ; he is twenty-five."
" I call that quite young. Agnes, my lamb, is that
why you are not ready to be a meenister's wife ? "
Agnes's head dropped against her mother's shoulder,
and she did not answer for a moment. " He does not
think of me," she said after a moment, and in hurried
tones. "I I Polly says he has a sweetheart in Vir-
ginia."
" But you think of him ? " The mother was quick to
note the hesitation and the evasion. "Ah, my baby,
has it come to you then, womanhood's dream ? " she
said gently.
"Nothing has come to me," Agnes broke out pas-
sionately. " I have been motherless and well-nigh
fatherless, and tears have been my portion."
" My lamb ! My lamb ! " the mother murmured
MOTHER 193
brokenly. "You are no longer motherless, nor have
ever been friendless ; and, ah, my bairn, if you but knew
what a comfort it was to me to hear from Archie
M'Clean how brave and strong and helpful you have
been."
" I've not always been brave and strong, and I grew
wild and naughty for a time till till they said I was
like Polly. Have I grown like Polly, mother ? "
" Only in some little gestures and tricks of speech,
yet you might well imitate her in many ways."
" So I say. Dear Polly, she has been so good, so
good to me, and I love her and will not hear anything
against her."
" You are right to be loyal, but now, my lamb, it is
late and you are tired."
"And how tired you must be, too. Go to bed,
dearest of mothers. I shall be so happy to know you
are near me."
" And yet a moment ago you were not happy, even
with your mother."
" I was very naughty. Please forget that wild talk."
But the mother did not forget, and she looked with
critical eyes upon Parker Willett when he appeared a few
days later. She saw a tall, dignified young man, slim,
dark eyed, dark haired, with resolute chin and a mouth
whose grave lines gave rather a severity to the face ex-
cept when the man smiled, and then one noticed both
humor and sweetness.
194 A GENTLE PIONEER
He greeted Mrs. Kennedy with marked courtesy ;
here was a woman of his own kind, and he was quick to
recognize it. He was also quick to see that Agnes had
gained in her own manner since her mother's arrival,
unconsciously imitating her quiet and gentle dignity,
and almost the first words he said to Mrs. Kennedy
were, " It is well for your daughter, Mrs. Kennedy,
that you have at last come ; she has missed you sadly."
" And has needed me ? " Mrs. Kennedy smiled.
" Yes, I think that, too. Every girl needs a wise,
good mother. I saw " he turned to Agnes "I
saw Humphrey Muirhead to-day."
"Oh, did you tell him ? "
" About the will ? Yes."
" And what did he say ? "
Parker smiled. " I think it would hardly do to repeat
his very uncomplimentary remarks, but he vows you
will never set foot on the place."
"What of your own land ? "
" I have bought it."
" You are not afraid of having such a disagreeable
neighbor? "
Parker gave a little amused smile. " Whom do you
mean, you or your mother ? "
Agnes smiled, too. " So you do count on our being
your neighbors in spite of what Hump Muirhead
says ? "
" I certainly do."
MOTHER 195
" But you must not take any risks on our account,"
Mrs. Kennedy was quick to say.
" But he saved Honey's life," Agnes remarked.
" You mean Jimmy O'Neill saved Honey."
" But you saved both. Doesn't Hump Muirhead
know that ? "
" What a disrespectful way to speak of your uncle,"
laughed Parker. " What will your mother think ? "
" That I've neither wish nor right to show him the
respect he does not command. But doesn't he know
about your saving Honey ? " she persisted.
" No, if you call it that."
" I do. Oh, mother " she checked herself ; she
would not for the world praise him for his bravery lest
one or the other should suspect how pleased she was to
do it. " Did you see Honey, the dear baby ? " she
asked, giving a turn to the subject.
" No, I saw only the man himself ; I met him on the
road."
" Do you know, I have a baby brother, only a little
younger than Honey, and I had never seen him before
mother came."
" I am glad you have some one to fill Honey's place,
and some one from whom you will not have to part.
She was very loath to give up her little cousin," he
told Mrs. Kennedy.
" Agnes always was a great hand for the little ones,"
Mrs. Kennedy replied.
196 A GENTLE PIONEER
" And you must have missed her sadly when she
left you for this raw country."
"I missed her, yes." The mother's eyes rested
fondly on the girl, and Parker's followed the look. He
wondered if the mother noted how becoming was that
soft blue and how the plain little gown brought out the
color of the girl's eyes.
" What did you say about the will ? " Agnes asked,
eager for more information.
" I told him that the will would be entered for pro-
bate, and that your mother would claim her own."
" What did he say to that ? "
" He insisted that he must see the will and that he
would take no man's word for it. I promised him that
I would bring it with me for his satisfaction, and Jimmy
has intrusted it to me. It will be all right in time. I
shall not show it to him except in the presence of wit-
nesses. There may be some trouble about getting pos-
session, for Muirhead, on account of his long residence
out here, has been able to gather about him rather
a lawless set of followers, and they may try to do some-
thing to prevent peaceable possession ; but in the end
there must be enough of your friends to see justice
done. You have not come to a very law-abiding neigh-
borhood, so far as these backwoodsmen are concerned,
Mrs. Kennedy, but the country is settling up very fast,
and there are enough men of good standing here now
who will not allow any irregularities."
MOTHER 197
" Every one is very kind ; I never knew such hospi-
tality. We have had offers of help from near and far,
and a score of homes are open to us. In time I know
we shall be very happy here, though at first one nat-
urally misses some things."
"Yes," Parker nodded in response. " One misses a
great many things ; I felt so ; but it is a great country,
after all, and there are better chances here than at
home ; that is plain to be seen by the way the people
are flocking from the east and south. I should not
be surprised if we would soon become a state."
" It certainly seems as if a lot of people were coming,"
Agnes ventured to say. " I hardly ever go to the
M' Cleans' but I hear of new arrivals, and every day we
see the broads go by on the river. Ah, yes, we were
wise to come, mother."
Her mother wondered if it were so, as she saw the
light that had gathered in her girl's eyes since this
young man had come in. He was a gentleman, surely,
just such as might win the heart of a trusting little lass,
but she must be watchful lest the child should come to
have heartache.
" I have a bit of a cabin started, and will be at home
very shortly," the young man told them in answer to
their questions, "and in the meantime I shall stay
at Dod Hunter's. Jerry and the other boys are
helping me, and I shall soon be having my own fire-
side."
198 A GENTLE PIONEER
" An' you'll be invitin' us over to sup," said Polly,
who had joined them.
" Yes, if you will cook the supper, I'll provide any-
thing you say, and we can have a little housewarming
that will suit the size of the house."
" Deed, an' I'll cook anny thing, an' we'll show Mrs.
Kennedy how a clearin' looks before it's cleared. Will
ye be takin' yer belongin's this trip ? "
" I may as well; I've not much of a bundle, but I've
trespassed upon your space long enough." ^
" Run get the little box up aloft, Agnes," said Polly.
" I've kept that by itsel' knowin' ye valued it, an' the
rest, a little fardle o' things, I've in the lean-to."
" No, don't trouble yourself, Agnes," Parker hastened
to say, but she was already halfway up the ladder. It
was pleasant to be able to do him even this slight
service.
The little box was where Polly had put it, high on
a shelf ; it was a small, flat affair, neatly made of two
or three different kinds of wood. It lay under Polly's
Bible, and, as Agnes stood on tiptoe to reach it, she
knocked down both box and Bible, and, in trying to
save the latter, the box fell on the floor. It was strong,
and was not injured; but in the fall a spring struck the
floor, and a sliding panel flew out; then two or three
bits of paper fell from their hiding-place. Agnes picked
them up one by one, two or three letters and a carefully
made pencil-sketch of a girl's head. Beneath it was
MOTHER 199
written " Alicia." Agnes felt the blood surging to her
face as she stood with trembling fingers holding the
picture. It was then as Polly had surmised. " For I
know it is not his sister," she whispered ; " he told me
her name, and it is Elizabeth. I could not forget that."
She noted the haughty, high-bred air about the pose of
the head, the curve of the perfect lips, the pile of hair
carefully arranged, the filmy lace kerchief. She slipped
the papers and portrait back into their place and hurried
downstairs, but she was very pale as she handed the
DOX to Parker. " I dropped it," she said truthfully,
"but I hope nothing is hurt"
" I am sure everything is quite safe," he assured her.
" It is not a very large, strong box, but it holds most of
my dearest possessions." He opened the lid and drew
forth three miniatures. "See," he said, "these are my
treasures. This is my mother ; " he showed it to Mrs.
Kennedy; "this my sister Elizabeth, whom we call
Betty," and he handed Agnes the second case, " this
my father," and into Polly's hands he gave the
third. "There are, too, some of my father's last
letters, and one or two other little things which I
prize."
" You look like your father," Polly said, scrutinizing
the miniature she held.
" He died when I was ten years old, so I remember
him perfectly. My mother married a second time," he
informed Mrs. Kennedy.
200 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Therefore, unless your stepfather is a very unusual
man, you must miss your own father very much."
" I did, and because of this second marriage I left
home after my sister was married."
Agnes was gazing at Betty's pictured face ; it was
bright, piquant, very fair, very young. She handed it
back without a word, and her heart was troubled, for
her thoughts were with that hidden portrait.
She was very quiet the rest of the day, but toward
evening she climbed the hill and stood looking off
across the river. Presently Parker would come that
way, for he used a little skiff more frequently ; it saved
him the long ride to the ford farther above, and when
the river was not high, it was a pleasanter method of
travel. After a little waiting she saw him coming.
How straight he was, and tall ! She shook her head
impatiently and looked away. In another moment he
was at her side. " Come, go out on the river with me for
a little while," he said as he came up. " The days are
getting so much longer that it will be light for a great
while yet, and this evening is the warmest we have
had." *
Agnes hesitated. " I must tell mother/'
" I asked her, and she consented to my taking you,
so long as I did not keep you out too late."
He held open the little gate for her to pass out, and
they followed the zigzag path down to the river's brim.
A little skiff was drawn up on the sands ; they stepped
MOTHER 201
into it, and Parker took the oars. " How silent you are
to-day," he said after a while. " Has your mother's
coming made you so ? "
" No, not that. I I have something to tell you.
I didn't want to before every one." She paused a
minute and then went on. "When I let the box fall,
something fell out from the back of it, some letters and
and a picture. I picked them up and put them
back again, but I wanted to tell you that I couldn't
help seeing the picture."
The man looked at her with an inscrutable smile.
He rested his oars, and drew from his hunting-shirt the
flat box. Pressing the spring he slid back the panel
and drew forth the picture and letters; the last he
tore into bits and tossed out upon the waves ; the
picture he looked at with a little scornful smile, and
then that, too, he tore across and tossed overboard.
Then he gave a deep sigh, picked up his oars, and
pulled steadily. Agnes watched him wonderingly, but
she said not a word.
"Honest little girl," he spoke at last, "it was like
you to tell me that, and now it will be my turn to con-
fess. I have told you of our old plantation life, of the
father whom I so well remember, of my little sister, of
my mother whose marriage robbed us of all our heri-
tage, but I have not told you of Alicia, my neighbor
and playmate. From the time I was a small chap, I
always said I would marry Alicia, then when I grew
202 A GENTLE PIONEER
big enough to go away to school and Alicia, too, was
sent to boarding-school, when I thought of what va-
cations would bring me, I thought of Alicia. Her father
and mine fought side by side in the Revolution, and
their interests were the same. Then my father died,
and after a while my mother married again. When
I was twenty-one, I found that in lieu of falling heir
to a good estate I was practically penniless. My first
thought was to take advice from Alicia's father, and his
advice I followed. I came west to carve out my for-
tune." He stopped a moment and then went on. " Yet
Alicia's father, to this day, does not know that I fol-
lowed his advice because I could not hope to win
his daughter. Agnes, little brave girl, you would not
turn a man, your lifelong companion, away from you
because he was poor, would you ? "
"I? No, oh, no; not if I loved him, and if I knew
him to be good and true."
The man pulled up-stream steadily for some time
before he spoke again. His thoughts were far away.
He saw the fine old plantation, Alicia's home, its host
of slaves, its wide veranda where dainty ladies sipped
their tea, its lordly dining hall upon the table of which
glittered old silver and cut glass. He saw Alicia
herself, stately, fastidious, luxuriously clad, and he
looked opposite him at the little pioneer lass, bare-
footed, bare-headed, her linsey-woolsey petticoat the
worse for wear, her kerchief of coarse linen knotted at
MOTHER 203
the throat, her hands sunburnt, but in her eyes the light
of truth and innocence, and he smiled a sudden bright
and tender smile. "And so, Alicia, I am done with
you," he said aloud. " Forever and aye I am done with
you. Float down the stream of time in another current
than mine. I wish you no ill, but for me I care no more
for exotics. Now, Agnes, you know my story, and you
are sole witness of how Alicia and I have at last parted
company. I tell you, Agnes, her mother is no more
gracious lady than yours ; but if ill-fortune befell her,
would she throw back her head, as I have seen some one
do, and go forth to meet fate face to face, saying, do
your worst, I will defy you ? She couldn't do it, Agnes,
and even if she could well, by this time the water has
washed her image quite away. So there's an end of it,
Agnes Kennedy, and for the rest of time I am Parker
Willett, pioneer, and not Parker Willett, gentleman.
Now, Agnes, I will take you home to your mother.
This is good-by for a time, too."
The color had come back to Agnes's cheeks and the
light to her eyes. " Thank you for telling me that," she
said, as the boat's landing was made. "No, don't come
back with me ; it is early still, the sky is quite light, but
you have to go across, and you will have quite a dis-
tance to ride before you reach Dod Hunter's."
" I feel singularly free and happy," said Parker, hold-
ing her hands. " It is a good thing sometimes to throw
one's troubles overboard. But for you, Agnes Kennedy,
204 A GENTLE PIONEER
I should not have done it. I've not exactly burnt my
ships behind me, but I've thrown care to the winds, and
I mean to be as happy as you will let me."
"As I will let you?" Agnes's blue eyes opened
wide.
" As you will let me ; I repeat it. Good night, good
night, little girl. Run home quickly. I shall stand
here and wait till I know you must be safe."
Agnes ran up the steep path, and having gained the
top of the hill she looked back. He was still there.
He waved his hand to her, and then she disappeared
over the brow of the hill.
CHAPTER XIII
PLOTTING
IT was two days after that Dod Hunter appeared at
the clearing. Agnes was busy outside the house
at the hominy block; it took a deal of hominy these
days to satisfy so large a family.
" Park Willett here? " asked Dod, abruptly.
" No, he is not." Agnes paused in her work and
came forward.
" Humph ! " ejaculated Uncle Dod. He looked at
her sharply and appeared to be considering something.
" Isn't he at your house ? " Agnes asked anxiously.
Dod shook his head.
" He left here on Tuesday," Agnes went on. " Tues-
day evening just before dark. I saw him get into his
boat about sundown ; he was going to your house from
the other side. Did you come around that way ? "
" No, I come by the ford."
" It is very strange, for he told me he would be stay-
ing at your house till his own was ready for him."
Dod moved uneasily in his saddle, then he slipped
down and led the horse away some distance. " Come
205
206 A GENTLE PIONEER
here, Nance," he said, " I've got to look into this. You
ain't the fain tin' kind, I know, but there's something
wrong, I'm satisfied. Now, don't look so skeered; I
reckon we'll get at the bottom of it. Is there anybody
about here that 'ud be likely to be an inimy o' hisn ? "
Agnes shook her head. " No one that I know of.
He never seemed to have any very intimate friends, but
he is always pleasant to everybody, and I think nearly
every one has a good word for him."
Dod wagged his head again. " Nobody want to rob
him o' any thin' ? "
Agnes paused before she answered. She thought
first of the miniatures, but who would want such purely
personal things ? Then like a flash came a thought of
the will. Parker carried that. Humphrey Muirhead
knew it would be in his possession. " There is some-
thing," she said breathlessly ; " it is the will, Uncle Dod,
my grandfather Muirhead's will. Mr. Willett has that
and Hump Muirhead knows it."
Uncle Dod made an exclamation and said something
under his breath. " You've hit it, girl. Trust a
woman's wits. I'm glad I tackled you first. You've
hit the nail on the head. I'll bet my shirt he's up to
some sort of scheme to get that will. I remember he
told me about it. That's good, too, fur I can testify
to that. Oh, we'll outwit Hump Muirhead, don't you
fear."
" What do you suppose he has done ? "
PLOTTING 207
" Kidnapped him, likely." He brought his fist down
with a thump into the palm of his hand. " I'm an ijit !
Why didn't I think of that before ? "
"What?"
" I heerd a pack o' horses go by in the middle o' the
night. They turned into Muirhead's woods. I heerd
some one say, ' Keep quiet, boys, can't ye ? ' I'll bet it
was them."
" Where do you suppose they have taken him ? Will
they hurt him?"
" Reckon not. They're after the will. I rayther
think Hump'll take him to his place and hide him some-
wheres, drug him maybe, and get holt o' the will, then
he'll brazen it out that there wa'n't none, an' never had
been."
" But we've all seen it."
" Don't make no difference ; he'll say that it's a
scheme to defraud him, an' he'll bring a lawsuit, an*
ef they ain't no proof, likely he hopes to win it. It's
jest like his contrivin'. Oh, I know Hump Muirhead
from A to izard. But we'll get a holt o' him. I will
count on my boys. Jimmy O'Neill at home ? "
" No, he's gone to the village."
" Lemme see, then. Your father don't count. Who's
nearest ? "
" David Campbell ; but he was going away to-day."
"I'd like to scare up somebody like Jimmy, but with
my three boys an' any one else I may chanst to git a
208 A GENTLE PIONEER
holt of, I reckon we'll down 'em. I don't reckon they
was more'n half a dozen in the pack. I kin count
Hump Muirhead's gang on one hand. Well, Nancy,
I'll be off, the sooner the better. S'posin' you don't
say anything about this to yer mother. She's new here
an' don't know the didos these here backwoodsmen kin
cut up ; besides it's part her affair, an' Hump bein' kin
o' hern, it might make her feel bad. Kin ye keep yer
mouth shet?"
" I should hope so," Agnes returned proudly.
" Tears to me land's plenty enough not to be making
such a hot fuss about that place o' Muirhead's. Why
don't he give it up peaceable ? Big, heavy man like
him could easy start an' clar up another place in no
time. I believe in fightin* fur my rights, but I'll be
switched if I believe in bullyin' wimmin folks. I (}e-
clar, gal, ye look whiter'n my old hoss. I've skeered
ye good, hevn't I ? "
"I'm not scared, except except for Mr. Willett.
I feel as if that Muirhead wouldn't stop at anything."
" Blest if she ain't right," said Dod to himself, but
he put on a cheerful face and said, " Don't ye cross no
bridges till ye come to 'em. I'm off now, and I'd be
willin' to bet ye a pretty that Park '11 be settin' in my
house inside o' twenty-four hours. Keep yer mouth
shet, remember." And he rode off.
Agnes, with palpitating heart, stood for a moment
powerless. Then she rushed to the house. " Mother,"
PLOTTING 209
she said, trying to speak calmly, " do you mind if I go
across the river to Hunter's for a while ? "
" So soon ready to leave your mother ? " replied Mrs.
Kennedy. " Ah, but youth does love change."
" It isn't that I love change, but there is it may be
that I am needed there."
"Anybody sick at Hunter's?" asked Polly, putting
down the huge horn spoon she held. " Didn't I see
Uncle Dod come in just now?"
"Yes, he was here, and some one is perhaps ,"
faltered Agnes. " It really seemed important that I
should go and see what is the matter." She gained
courage as she went on.
" Oh, well, if it is a case of sickness, of course go,"
her mother returned, "but I really think Polly or I
would be of more use."
"But I might have to stay, and can be spared better
than either of you."
" That is true. But you will not go alone ? Is Mr.
Hunter waiting for you ? "
"Nothin's goin' to hurt her," said Polly. "She's
used to runnin' wild, ain't ye, Nancy ? She knows this
country like a book, an* it's no distance to Dod's once
ye cross the river, though it's a good bit furder if ye go
around."
Agnes had not waited to hear the last wtords. She was
conscious that she had misled her mother, and that it
would grieve her who always set a value upon the exact
210 A GENTLE PIONEER
truth. " But I must go, I must," she murmured to her-
self. " I didn't think to tell Uncle Dod, and I think I
could maybe tell the tale better than any one else, I who
saw it all."
She ran toward the hilltop, then down on the other
side to the river's bank. Here she had last seen Parker
standing. " Ah me, if he be but safe," she whispered.
" Oh, my dear, my dear, if we can but save you. ' I
will be as happy as you will let me,' he said, and I was
so glad, so glad." She had no difficulty in finding the
little skiff always drawn high up into the bushes ; drag-
ging it down she soon had it afloat, and plied her oars
with all haste. More than once had she rowed across,
and her strong young arms found it an easy task. Once
on the other side she made no tarrying, but struck off
into the bridle-path, and was soon at Dod Hunter's gate.
There were four men standing in the yard ; a fifth was
just coming from the house.
"Nancy Kennedy! I'll be switched if it ain't the
gal," said Dod, as Agnes appeared upon the scene.
" What's up ? "
" I'm going to Muirhead's with you." One of the
men turned and looked at her. Agnes recognized him.
He was Dr. Flint, a friend of Parker Willett's, and she
remembered his history. A man well born, well edu-
cated, but one who had been wild and dissipated, and
who had drifted west where he led a reckless, irregular
life, sometimes practising medicine, sometimes living for
PLOTTING 211
months among the backwoodsmen. Finally he made
the fatal error of giving a wrong medicine to a man who
was not on very friendly terms with him. When the
man died, though Dr. Flint's friends knew that he was
dazed with drink when he made the mistake, an angry
crowd of the dead man's companions charged him with
doing it purposely. Dod Hunter, Parker Willett, and
one other kept the crowd at bay till they had convinced
them of their injustice, and had swung their sympathies
around toward Dr. Flint. After this he would never
prescribe for any one. He did not object to practising
surgery, and he had kept perfectly sober for several
years. Dod Hunter and Parker Willett could claim any
service from him, as well they might, since he owed his
life to them. Agnes remembered all this sad story, and
was glad to see the man there. She knew his devotion
to Parker, and knew that nothing would stand in the
way of his defence of him.
As the doctor eyed her sharply Dod Hunter gave
him a nod. " Friend o' Park's," he said. " Good little
gal. I shouldn't wonder if Park was sweet on he*r."
Then to Agnes who had not heard the aside, " So, lass,
yer ready to jine the s'arch party, are ye ? "
" I am going to Muirhead's."
"What for?"
" To see Humphrey Muirhead and tell him who saved
his little boy. If I can't see Hump, I will see his wife
and tell her and make her promise to tell her husband."
212 A GENTLE PIONEER
Dod nodded approval. " Good scheme, but maybe
it won't work, and we ain't no full proof that he's got
Park."
"It will do no harm if he hasn't."
" That's true, too. Come along, then, if you want to
go with us. We're not likely to have a pitch battle
before we git there, and a gal that has fit Injuns ain't
goin' to squeal at sight of a gun. Will ye hoof it or
shall I git ye a hoss?"
" I'll go as you do. I should think you would know
that," Agnes replied with some asperity. " It's not
the first search-party I've gone with, Uncle Dod. You
know I was with them when they found my father."
" Sure enough. I mind their tellin' me of it at
M'Clean's. Start on, boys." The rescuing party set
forth, but there was no sign of a human being to be seen
in any of the haunts to which the Hunters led them.
" I shall go to the house," Agnes declared her inten-
tion, " and you may come with me or I will go alone,
whichever Uncle Dod thinks best."
The men debated the proposition. " I don't know as
it would be well to let Muirhead know we have wind
of the thing," said Dod Hunter, "but I have my doubts
about it's bein' the right thing for us to let a gal go up
there alone."
" I'm not afraid, if that is all," Agnes said.
"It ain't whether you're afraid," said Jerry, "but I
reckon four good-sized men ain't a-goin' to see a gal do
PLOTTING 213
what they hev a right to. I say we all go." And his
proposition was acted upon.
Meek little Mrs. Muirhead came out to meet them,
and with a frightened air replied to the questions put to
her. No, Hump wasn't at home ; he had gone off the
night before, hunting, he said ; had come back to break-
fast, and then had ridden in the direction of Mayo's.
" Was he alorm ? " asked the doctor.
"When he went to Mayo's ? Yes."
" No, I mean when he came in this morning,"
Mrs. Muirhead twisted her fingers nervously and
looked furtively toward the house. " No, he wasn't,"
she informed them in a low tone. "There was half
a dozen men with him. They were in the house for
a while." She saw them coming, but they went in the
front way, and Hump had told her to keep away, that
if she dared to disturb them or go into that room where
they were, she'd never go in there again. He didn't
mean that, of course; he often talked so, but she thought
she'd better keep out of any fuss. They went away
later ; she heard, but did not see them, and after Hump
had his breakfast he went, too, but the door was bolted
and locked.
" When will he be back ? Did he say ? " questioned
Agnes.
"Oh, soon."
"We will wait, then."
Mrs. Muirhead nervously asked them to come into
214 A GENTLE PIONEER
the kitchen, an invitation which Agnes and the doctor
accepted. "We'll keep watch outside," said Dod
Hunter, in an undertone.
Agnes responded by a nod. The girl looked pale and
tired from her long tramp and from the strain put upon
her, and she gratefully accepted the drink of milk which
Mrs. Muirhead timidly proffered her guests. The three
or four little children stood around open-eyed. Honey,
with a cry of joy, had run to Agnes, and she took com-
fort in sitting with the child cuddled up to her.
"That's his daddy's favorite," Mrs. Muirhead in-
formed them. " He sets great store by Honey, and
went on like a wild creetur when he thought he was
drownded. I'm sure we all never expected to see him
again, and I'm in hopes some day I kin git over to Mis'
O'Neill's and tell her how thankful I am to him and
her for taking care of him."
Agnes was too perturbed to talk much. She listened
for the least sound. Every stir of a leaf seemed to her
tense nerves to indicate the approach of a horse. " I
feel sure there is some one in that room," she said in
a low tone to the doctor when Mrs. Muirhead stepped
out for a moment.
"Is there no way to get in from above ? " he asked.
" No, the only stairway leads to this room."
" Does your father always lock the door of that room
when he goes out?" asked the doctor of one of the
children.
PLOTTING 215
" No, only sometimes," was the reply.
" How is it fastened ? "
" It is bolted on the side this way, and locked on the
other."
The doctor sauntered out, and in a few minutes
Agnes followed. She found the doctor examining the
door from the outside. " That's a pretty strong lock,"
he said. " I thought perhaps we could see through the
window, but there is a heavy shutter, and it is closed
tight. I suppose if we break in we can be accounted
burglars."
" I'm willing to try it," returned Agnes. " As matters
stand this property belongs to my mother, anyhow. I'll
try if you will."
For answer the doctor drew a small case of instru-
ments from his pocket, and selecting one he prepared
to cut away around the lock. There was a subdued
movement inside. Agnes clasped her hands. " Oh,
hurry, hurry," she cried. "Let me help." And by
degrees weaker and weaker became the barrier, and
finally the door was forced open. In the dim light of
the room was seen upon the floor a man's form. He
was tied hand and foot.
" It is Mr. Willet ! It is Parker ! " cried Agnes, rush-
ing forward.
" Open that other door and get some water," ordered
the doctor, as he felt the cold face of his friend.
Agnes obeyed. The children came flocking in. Mrs.
2l6 A GENTLE PIONEER
Muirhead stood anxiously upon the threshold, not daring
to go farther.
Presently the doctor lifted Parker to his feet, but at
the same moment a voice thundered, "Touch that
man and I'll shoot him dead ! " And turning, they saw
in the doorway Humphrey Muirhead's dark counte-
nance distorted with rage. The man was levelling a
pistol at his prisoner.
As Agnes caught sight of the vindictive look, it
seemed as if she might be sure that Humphrey's re-
venge would stop at nothing short of murder, and,
catching up little Honey, she interposed his form
between that of Parker Willett and the enraged man
in the doorway. " Fire, if you dare ! " she cried.
And the pistol dropped to Humphrey Muirhead's
side.
At the same moment Dr. Flint exclaimed, " Good
heavens, man ! would you commit murder to accomplish
your ends ? "
Humphrey Muirhead wheeled around upon him.
" You're here, are you ? You talk of murder ? What
are you ? If you had your deserts, where would you be ?
There is fine set of you, your righteous partners who
begged you off, and yourself ; all of you deserve to
swing for cheating justice."
The doctor turned as white as a sheet, and then with
a cry of rage sprang forward, but a firm hand held him
back. " Now look here, Hump Muirhead," said the
PLOTTING 217
voice of Dod Hunter, " you're too free with your talk.
I'd like to know what you've got against Dr. Flint and
Park Willett. Nothing at all, except that they are
better men than you are. You great, overgrown, hulk-
ing coward No, I'm not afeard o' ye ; if I had been,
I'd not lived your neighbor all these years. I reckon
ye won't pick crows with me. I know ye too well.
Now, Nancy, you say your say ; there's nothing dread-
ful goin' to happen." And drawing up a chair before
the open door, Dod Hunter seated himself, with his rifle
across his knees.
Parker Willett had been looking from one to the other
in a dazed way as though he only half understood what
was going on.
"He's been drugged," declared the doctor. " He will
be all right after a while, Miss Agnes. Let him lie
there on the bed." Agnes still stood with the child
clinging to her neck, her mother's half-brother glow-
ering at her.
"Just suppose you hand over that pistol, Hump," re-
marked Dod Hunter, blandly ; " it's not going to be of
any use to you just now. Shucks ! man, but you do let
your temper git a terrible holt on ye," as the discom-
fited Muirhead turned toward his neighbor with a
savage grinding of his teeth, but with no movement
toward giving up his pistol.
" Here, Tom," called Dod, to one of his sons, " Hump
wants you to holt his pistol awhile." And the pistol
218 A GENTLE PIONEER
dropped to the floor with a crash, but fortunately was
not discharged in the fall.
"You're dreadful keerless, Hump," Dod said smil-
ing, "that might hev sent ye to kingdom come." And
picking up the pistol he handed it to his son.
"I'll have it out of every one of you for breaking
into my house," snarled Humphrey. " Here, you, what
are you staring at? Take those young uns out," and he
turned menacingly to his wife who retreated to the back
room, the children straggling after her, all but Honey,
who refused to leave the arms which held him.
"Shucks! Hump, I'd like to know if nabbing a
man ain't as bad as breakin' into a house. Perhaps
you'll call it quits .on that," suggested Dod.
" Who said I nabbed any one? " questioned Humphrey.
" Park Willett was found bound and drugged on your
premises."
" What proof have you that I did it ? "
" Oh, well, when it comes to that, I suppose there isn't
anything more than the fact. I suppose he might have
done it himself just for fun, might have crawled in
through the keyhole and tied himself up to see how it
would feel."
"How do you know he is not a criminal, and that I
am acting for the law ? "
Dod Hunter put back his head and laughed. " That's
a good un ! What's he done accordin' to your idea of
it?"
PLOTTING 2IQ
" He attempted my life."
" For why ? I reckon most any man that's set upon
at night by a passel o' ruffians is goin' to fight for his
freedom, his life, and anythin' else he wants to keep.
You might as well give in, Hump."
"If it's a life for a life," said Agnes, "perhaps you
don't know who saved Honey from drowning and brought
him back." She turned to her uncle.
" It was Jimmy O'Neill."
"It was Jimmy O'Neill who first saved him, but it
was Parker Willett who rowed out when the raft was
going to pieces, and who, at the risk of his own life
brought Jimmy and Honey ashore, and it was he who
found out where Honey belonged and brought him to
Uncle Dod's."
Humphrey's head dropped.
" That's all so, Hump," Dod said. " Park's modest,
and wouldn't let me tell it, but insisted on Jimmy's
having all the credit."
" If I'd 'a' known that," muttered Hump then he
growled out "but he's got a forged will."
" A forged will ? Who says so ? "
" My father left this place to me."
" Who says that ? And who has forged the will ? "
asked Dr. Flint.
" Them Kennedys ; they hashed it up between 'em."
" They did, did they ? You seem to know a great
deal about it. Suppose you question Jimmy O'Neill.
220 A GENTLE PIONEER
I think he'd be able to tell a different tale," said
Dod.
"Jimmy O'Neill?"
"Yes, it was he who brought the will to us," Agnes
informed him. " Didn't Mr. Willett tell you that ? "
she asked.
" He told me some cock and bull story about a will
being made in an Injun camp, as if anybody 'd believe
that."
" It is true, anyway," declared Agnes. " Have you
the will ? "
" No," the man growled, " the fool didn't have it,
after all. He'd have been set free by night if you'd
ha' let him be. I don't see why you made all this
fuss."
"Well," said Dod, "there's an old sayin' about givin'
a dog a bad name, ye know, an' we thought it was time
Park was comin' home."
Parker, who was now sitting up with his head in his
hands, looked up drowsily. Agnes went toward him.
" Have you the will ? " she whispered.
He shook his head. " No, I gave it to some one.
I'm so sleepy I can't talk." His head dropped again.
" It is strange where it has gone, then," said Agnes,
"for I know he had it when he left us ; he told me so."
" Well, I ain't got it, worse luck," snapped Humphrey.
" Then it don't seem to me that there's any use our
settin' around here," said Dod. "As long as Park ain't
PLOTTING 221
got nothin' about him that ye want, ye'll be willin* we
should take him home. Mebbe ye'd like us all to turn
over any little thing we've got about us. YeVe mis-
taken yer callin', Hump, ye'd ought a hev ben a
pirate."
Muirhead turned on him in impotent rage, but Dod
only laughed in his face. " I've not done with this
yet," said Humphrey. " I'll admit I ain't nothin' agin
Willett, specially as he saved my boy, an' I thank him
fur that act o' hisn, but I've no call to be friendly with
them Kennedys."
" Your niece here took keer o' the young un like a
mother, an' gave him up with tears in her eyes even
when she knew he was yours."
" What's her tears to me ! She'd no right to the boy ;
he's mine. Maybe they'll be tryin' to steal him next."
" Ah, but yer a black-hearted scoundrel, Hump Muir-
head," said Dod, in wrath. " I've a mind to take a
turn at givin' ye a good lambastin'. I've threatened
myself to do it this many a day, an' I'd ha' done it
before now if ye hadn't bore yer father's name, pore
misguided lad that he was."
Humphrey's fist doubled up, but Dod faced him
with a careless contempt. "Yer day o' reckonin's
comin'," he went on, " an' I'm a-settin* waitin* fur it.
Come, lads, we'll git out o' this. I hope the next time
we're under this roof it'll be to call on Mrs. Fergus
Kennedy. Walkin's the best thing to rouse Park, so
222 A GENTLE PIONEER
bring him along, Doc, you an' Tom." And he marched
out without further ado.
At the threshold Agnes darted back to give Honey
a parting kiss, and to say good-by to Mrs. Muirhead,
who was shrinking away from the back door. The
little woman was trembling with excitement. She held
something under her apron, and after a furtive look
around, she drew it forth and thrust it into Agnes' s
hand. " Hide it, hide it," she said in an excited whis-
per. " It dropped when they were bringing the man
in, and I picked it up." And Agnes thrust into the
bosom of her jacket the little flat box belonging to
Parker Willett
CHAPTER XIV
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY
BY the time they had reached the house, Parker
was sufficiently aroused to be able to tell some-
thing of his adventure. He was waylaid in the woods
on his way to Dod Hunter's, and was overpowered by
a body of men who appeared suddenly in his path.
They told him if he would come peaceably with them,
that no harm would come to him. He was bound and
taken to a lonely spot where they gave him something
to eat and drink. After that he remembered nothing.
It was supposed that he was drugged and was then
carried to Humphrey Muirhead's where he was
searched. The little box found by Mrs. Muirhead
may or may not have been examined, and the parcel,
which was brought away from his former home was
left the next morning at Dod Hunter's, being discov-
ered on the doorstep by the first one astir.
" I remember meeting some one on the river bank just
as I was about to start through the woods, and I have
a dim recollection that I gave him the will, but, strange
to say, I cannot remember who it was or why I gave it
223
224 A GENTLE, PIONEER
to him. I may not have done this, and Hump Muir-
head may have it after all, but I do not know why I
should be so impressed by a transaction that never
occurred."
" I think when he gets over the effects of the stuff
they have given him, that he will be all right," said Dr.
Flint, " and I wouldn't bother him now," he told Agnes.
The girl refused to remain after they had returned
to the Hunters', but after taking something to eat, she
started home, being escorted safely to the river's brink
by Jerry, who gave his opinion of Hump Muirhead
in forcible language. " I hope to goodness he ain't got
that will," he said, " for it would be purty hard work
to prove its contents, and he knows it. I hope Park is
right about givin' it to somebody else, but who in the
mischief could it have been ? Park is cautious, and it
would be a shaky thing to do unless you was right cer-
tain of yer man. I reckon it'll come out all right give
us time ; but it's my opinion it'll take force to git Hump
outen that house, but I'll be one to use that same force."
" Ah me ! " sighed Agnes, " if only people would be
true and honest in this world, how much trouble it
would save."
" The millennium ain't came yit," said Jerry, " but I
agree with you that we could have things a bit easier if
some folks would only half try. I ain't no saint, my-
self, but I'm open and above board, that nobody'll
deny."
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 225
" I think that can safely be said of all your family,"
returned Agnes, as she stepped into the little skiff.
"Good-by, Jerry. I hope we shall soon be nearer
neighbors."
" I'll give ye my hand on that," Jerry answered, as
he gave her boat a push off.
It was now late in the day, and as Agnes climbed the
hilly steep, she felt the strain of the morning had told
upon her, and when she came in looking fagged and
pale, her mother took alarm.
" Why, my bairn," she cried, "what ails you ? Has it
been so serious a thing ? "
" It was serious, very," Agnes responded, sinking
down on the settle. " It has been an exciting day,
mother. I told you the truth when I said I might be
needed, for I was, but I did mislead you a little, though
some one really was ill. I will tell you all about it and
I think you will not blame me. I could not tell you at
the time, for I had promised Uncle Dod I would not,
but now, as it has come out, he thinks I should let you
know." And she poured forth her tale to her mother's
attentive ears.
When she had finished, her mother's face wore a
startled, pained expression. " It is terrible, Agnes,"
she exclaimed. " What a lawless country that we have
come to ! I shall rear to go from the protection of
Jimmy O'Neill's big fist."
"You needn't be," returned Agnes, lightly, "for there
Q
226 A GENTLE PIONEER
is Uncle Dod Hunter and all his three big sons on one
side and Parker Willett on the other. What chiefly
concerns us now is the whereabouts of the will. I don't
believe Hump Muirhead has it, for he seemed really in
earnest about his disappointment in not finding it. I
believe in Mr. Willett's impression that he gave it to
some one, and I think he will remember who it is, so
don't let us trouble ourselves just yet to say anything
about it to Jimmy or Polly."
" Another thing that worries me," Mrs. Kennedy went
on, " is our obligation to Mr. Willett ; in trying to do us
a service he has suffered, and I do not feel comfortable
over it."
"Never mind, don't fash yourself; he is safe, and let
us hope the will is, too. Besides, now Hump will not
want to do him any further harm because of Honey ;
so a blessing came out of that," she added softly.
" Now, mother, tell me what has been going on to-day
since I left. Who has been here ? "
"Your friend, Jean M'Clean, for one. She came to
bid us all to her wedding. It will take place next
week."
"Why, that is a month sooner than she expected."
"Yes; but Jeanie says David is persistent, and that
he cannot see any reason for waiting, and as there is no
real reason, they may as well be married at once."
"Then you will see a true backwoods wedding,
, mother, and you may expect a roystering time. David
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 227
went to Marietta on Wednesday, and I know now
what was his errand. I wonder when he is coming
back. He is a good David, though rather an obstinate
one sometimes."
This new interest for the time being quite drove away
the thought of the will. There really was nothing to
be done about it for the present, and Agnes turned her
attention to Jeanie.
" I must go over and see the bride that is to be," she
said the next day. " I promised her my help when the
wedding-day should come. It seems, mother, that you
have come to a spot where there are a great many
exciting things going on, and I have no doubt you
thought it would be very dull. I am sorry that all
these things call me, but I am always so glad to think
you are here for me to come back to."
She found Jeanie going about her preparations in a
most orderly manner; nothing in that household ever
suggested confusion. Jeanie's chest, filled with its store
of linen, stood ready to be carried to her new home.
A pretty young heifer, her father's gift to her, lowed
in the stable yard. Jeanie's plain stuff gown had
been woven and colored with more care than usual, and
her neckerchief was snowy white from long bleaching ;
it was, too, of finer linen than had ever been made in
the community, and it was edged with a bit of lace,
part of her mother's little hoard. There would be no
veil and orange blossoms for this bride. She might
228 A GENTLE PIONEER
tuck a few spring blossoms in her dark hair, and wear
a sprig at her breast, but her ornaments would be few
and simple. She showed with great pride her shoes,
ornamented with a pair of silver buckles, and took
more pleasure in this bit of grandeur than in any other
part of her wardrobe.
" They are true silver, Nancy, and the shoes we were
able to get from Patty Hopkins. She brought them
from home with her and her feet had outgrown them
before she wore them at all. Was I not lucky to get
them ? Aren't they fine ? "
"They are, indeed," returned Agnes, viewing the
new shoes admiringly. "There are gay times ahead,"
she went on, "with a wedding, a housewarming, and
all that. When does David come back?"
" We expect him Saturday, but he may be detained
over Sabbath. There is a deal to do yet, and it is well
he is not here to take up my time."
Agnes laughed. " What an unromantic speech ; for
my part I think I should rather have my lover's presence
than so big a feast."
" Ah, but I shall have his company for the rest of
my life, and a wedding-feast is but once prepared ;
besides, it is not for ourselves, but for our company."
" That is true, too. Well, Jeanie, it is too early yet
to cook the feast, but I will be here on Monday and
give you all the help I can. I have left my mother so
much of late that I must hurry back now."
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 229
" Can't you stay ? " said Jeanie, wistfully. " I would
like to have one more talk about our girlhood before
I am made a wife. There is much I have to tell and
much I want to hear."
Agnes hesitated ; it seemed unkind to refuse the
request, yet her mother must be considered. " I prom-
ised I would not stay long," she said.
" I will send one of the children over to say that you
will stay," said Jeanie, eagerly, and to this Agnes
consented.
" If Archie were only here," sighed Jeanie, " my
happiness would be complete, and yours, too, wouldn't
it, Nancy ? "
" I am very content as it is," Agnes told her. " Pray,
Jeanie, don't think of Archie's ever being nearer to me
than a friend. He is a dear good lad, but he will bring
you a sister more worthy of his calling than I could be."
" He will bring me none that I would rather have,"
returned Jeanie, stoutly, " and as for the worthiness, it
is but experience you need, mother says. Ah, no,
Nancy, I shall not give you up yet."
But Agnes's thoughts were drifting off to the hill-
side and the sunset, and she suddenly sprang to her
feet. " I cannot stay, Jeanie, I really cannot. I forgot
that little Fergus is ailing, and that Polly is all tired
out with her soap-making. I ought to go home, but I
will come again and spend a night with you. I will
come to-morrow, and then we can go to meeting to-
230 A GENTLE PIONEER
gether and I will be here on Monday all ready to begin
the day's work with you, for I can stay over Sabbath as
well as not." And with this arrangement Jeanie was
so well pleased that she let her friend go without
further protest.
Agnes hurried along with a feeling that she must
reach the hilltop before sundown, and true enough she
was rewarded by a sight of a skiff drawn up on the
sands, and she knew it to be Parker Willett's. She
hastened her steps and found that he had caught sight
of her and that he was coming to meet her.
" I am fortunate," he said as he came up, " for I
might have missed you."
" I came very near staying with Jeanie. You know
she is to be married next week."
" So soon ? Yes, I believe I did hear something of
it. Where did I hear it ? There are still some things
which confuse thfe foolish brain of. mine. Well, little
girl, I have still much to thank you for." He took her
hands and shook them warmly. " I am very grateful.
To think you took that risk for me ! "
" To think you took that risk for us ! It was my
grandfather's will that made all the trouble; it had
nothing to do with you personally."
" Yes, the will, and do you know, I am not able yet
to remember whom it was that I gave the will to. It
will all come back to me, Henry Flint says, and I am
more and more sure that there was some reason why it
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 231
was best to give it up. I am sure it will come to light,
and that it was not stolen. My little box that held the
miniatures, I regret that, for it is gone."
" Oh, no, it isn't. I have it safe and sound," and she
told of the circumstances by which it came into her
possession.
" I am truly glad to hear that," said Parker. " Will
you keep the box for me, Agnes ? I think it is safer in
your hands than in mine, if I am so stupid about re-
membering what I do with things."
" You are not to blame for forgetting, and, yes, I will
keep it gladly, and may I look at the miniatures some-
times?"
" Would you like to ? I am pleased that you should
care to."
" I needn't be afraid of finding anything under the
secret panel," said Agnes, with a glad little laugh.
Then more softly, "Are you sorry* that the place is
empty ? "
" No, I am very glad, you sweet child." He still
held her hands and looked at her with so tender an ex-
pression that the girl's eyes drooped. "Alicia, you
know, Alicia," he went on, "would never have joined
a band of rough men and have scoured the country with
them to find me. She would have been scandalized if
any one had suggested such a thing."
" Was it wrong ? I never thought. You see Uncle
Dod was there, and I could trust him. Besides I I
232 A GENTLE PIONEER
think I would have done it, anyhow, to to save
you."
He gave her hands a sudden pressure, then dropped
them. " Agnes Kennedy," he said, " you dear, unspoiled
child, you are certainly revealing a new and delightful
side of your character. I don't know what I shall do if
you keep on showing these surprising traits." He
stepped back from her, and turned away his gaze to the
river, now molten gold from the clouds overhead. " Talk
of wealth," he went on, " I am rich with a mine of pure
gold so near me. Listen, Agnes, I have set myself a
task. When I found that I was penniless, and when I
decided that I would come to the West, it was my mother
who insisted upon giving me her last dollar to start me in
the world. She said it was her fault, the dear, unworldly
woman who was so easily deceived by appearances, but
I told her I would take it only as a loan, and I hold that
I am not a free man till that is paid. It was not my
mother's fault that her second husband proved a vision-
ary, unpractical man, and I should feel a mean-spirited
wretch if I defrauded her of the little hoard she gave
me so willingly. And that is why, in honor, I am not a
free man, and why and why, Agnes, little girl, I do
not dare to see too much of you. But some day " he
turned and his eyes met hers, and each read the story
revealed. Neither spoke a word till Agnes said faintly,
" I must go home ; mother will be expecting me."
" May I go with you ? "
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 233
" Oh, yes, you were going, weren't you ? "
" I didn't know. I hadn't thought of whether I wanted
to see anybody but There, Agnes, let's talk of the
weather or your mother or something."
" I want to know if you feel quite well."
" Yes, except for a buzzing in my head when I try to
concentrate my thoughts, but that is passing away.
How did you like Dr. Flint ? "
" I thought him very interesting."
" He said you were the bravest girl he ever saw."
" Did he ? He might have told me so."
" I told him he might say that to me but not to you, and
that if he kept on raving about you, I would punch his
head. There, Agnes, we must talk of the weather, or
I am lost. Did your mother scold you very severely for
chasing about in the woods all day with the Hunters?"
" No, she looked very grave at first, but she said I did
right, and she was more concerned about your having
suffered on our account than about anything else."
" Pshaw ! I didn't exactly suffer ; you can hardly
call it that. I must hasten to reassure her on that
point. Dare I face her and Jimmy O'Neill without
the will ? "
" Jimmy doesn't know but you have it still. I didn't
tell any one but mother, and she thought it was best not
to mention it for a few days."
" It is plain to see that you have profited by the
example of a most extraordinarily considerate woman,
234 A GENTLE PIONEER
Agnes. How fine that sky is ! We shall have good
weather to-morrow."
" I am glad of that, for I promised Jeanie to spend
the Sabbath with her. She has such a pretty fine
neckerchief, and such fine silver buckles for her shoes,
new shoes, too." Agnes looked down at her own coarse
shoepacks, and Parker's eyes followed her glance.
About the home place she was wont to go barefoot in
mild weather, and he thought the shoepacks were
scarce an improvement upon the fashion. "Would
you like to have a pair of pretty shoes with silver
buckles ? " he asked.
" I would dearly like to have them. I suppose it
isn't right to be wishing for such vanities, but I believe
I like vanities."
"Almost all girls do, and if I had my way, they
should all have them. I wish I were a cordwainer,
Agnes, I'd then make you a pair of the daintiest shoes
you ever saw." He threw back his head and laughed
joyously at the thought.
"What is so funny?"
" That I should envy a shoemaker his trade, and that
in this delightful locality one doesn't need money nor
fine apparel to make him like other people, or to make
him happy. I was suddenly impressed with the humor
of it, and I laughed in sheer mockery of those mis-
guided persons in that way-back, unenlightened land I
came from, who have yet to learn that fine feathers do
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 235
not make fine birds, for the rarest, sweetest little bird I
know doesn't have and doesn't need any fine feathers.
Speaking of birds, it must be pleasant work building a
nest. Just suppose, Agnes, for the humor of it, that
we were a pair of birds, and were thinking of nest-build-
ing, would the prospect please you ? There, don't an-
swer me. I insist that it will be a fine day to-morrow.
How does the garden come on ? Are those beans up
yet?"
Agnes laughed in reply. This nonsense was delight-
ful. She understood it all, and could have wandered
on the river's bank forever listening to the merry
chatter.
They went on in silence for a little time, then Parker
asked abruptly, " Do you like books, Agnes?"
" I am very fond of them, but we never had many,
and I have had no time to read since I came here, even
if I had had anything to read. I picked up a book of
yours one day, and I read a little. I liked it."
"What was it?"
". One of the plays of Mr. Shakespeare."
" I am glad you like to read," he said thoughtfully ;
" we will have some pleasant times together, when the
work is done, and in those long evenings He
broke off with a start, a flush coming to his face. He
laughed in an embarrassed sort of way. " I seem to for-
get that I am no longer a member of your household,
don't I ? But I have a few books with me, and you
236 A GENTLE PIONEER
can read them and tell me afterward what you think of
them."
" I shall like that when the winter comes, and we
have such long evenings, but then comes the spinning,
and all that, but I shall get some time, I hope. We
should be in our own home by that time, don't you
think so ? "
" I think you should be there before then if there's
any justice in the land, but I am shirking my duty. I
must go and tell your mother that I don't know anything
about that will. Come, Agnes, and give me countenance."
The will was still unaccounted for on the morning of
Jeanie's wedding-day, and Mrs. Kennedy felt an anxiety
that she did not express, though Agnes was so absorbed
in the exciting prospect of the day's pleasure that she
gave no thought to it. It was the ordinary custom
for the bridal procession to form at the home of the
groom's father and from thence to escort him to the
home of the bride, but David's parents were not living,
and the Tad had his own home, so thither the guests re-
paired, only to find the house closed and barred. The
men stared, the girls nudged each other. What was
wrong ? Had the groom deserted his lady-love ? Was
he playing a trick ? Was he so shy that he had stolen
a march upon them, and was now in advance of them
making his way to Jeanie's house ? All these conjec-
tures were fairly discussed, but there seemed to be no
satisfactory solution.
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 237
"There hasn't ben no weddin' sence Dave come
among us," at last Jerry Hunter remarked, " and maybe
he didn't exactly understand our ways. I say we go on
without him, and like as not we'll find him there. We
ain't goin' to break up the weddin' on his account ; it's
likely he thought he'd make the trip alone. Who see
him last?"
Each looked at the other. No one seemed able to
say. David had not appeared at meeting on the previ-
ous Sabbath, and it was known that he had started for
Marietta some days before that ; further than this there
seemed nothing definite to be learned.
Two by two the cavalcade set forth through the
woods, now beginning to show a sparse leafage brought
suddenly out by a day of warmth. Gay was the little
company, for fun was the leading purpose of the hour.
Some tricksters having started on ahead, an unexpected
volley of musketry from an ambuscade gave cause for
much plunging of horses, many shrieks from the lasses,
and much uproarious laughter after the smoke had
cleared away. There was no road save the bridle-path,
and that none too good, but the roughly dressed com-
pany cared little for that, and, indeed, the more obstacles
in the way of fallen trees or ragged grape-vines the bet-
ter the fun. Clad in leathern breeches, stout leggings,
linsey hunting-shirts, the men were a picturesque crew,
while the lasses in their linsey-woolsey gowns rarely
boasted an ornament unless it might be such as a few
238 A GENTLE PIONEER
could show in the way of heirlooms like buckles or lace
ruffles.
Arrived at last the riders tied up their horses, and all
trooped into the house where the bride and her friends
awaited the coming of the groom.
Jerry Hunter as leader entered first, and gave a sharp
glance around the room. " Where's Davy ? " he blurted
out.
Mrs. M'Clean's cheek turned suddenly pale, and her
husband cast a keen glance toward the door. " None
o' yer joking," he said sternly.
" I'm not jokin', as I'm a sinner," returned Jerry.
" Am I, boys ? Isn't Dave here ? "
" No." The word came sharp from the father's lips.
His wife gave him -an appealing look. " I hope noth-
ing has happened to the lad," she said in a troubled
voice. " Ye've not seen him the morn, Jerry ? "
" No, nor have any of us."
" He was no at meeting on Sabbath day," said the
minister, gravely, as he came forward, "and he was sure
to be home by then, he told me."
" And not later than yesterday," said Mrs. M'Clean.
She slipped from the room to where Jeanie, surrounded
by her girl friends, was waiting. At the pitying look
on her mother's face she sprang to her feet. " Mother,
what's happened to David ? " she cried.
" Naught that we know of, lass, but he's not come."
Agnes pressed close and sought Jeanie's hand. " He
JEANIE'S WEDDING-DAY 239
will come, Jeanie," she whispered. The other girls looked
at one another, one or two with a faintly significant
smile. Agnes was quick to see them. " He will come,"
she said with assurance ; " something has happened to
detain him a little. David was always one to keep his
word." She nodded her head decidedly at those who
had smiled. " Don't fret, Jean," said one of the other
girls.
" Fret ? Why should I fret ? " she asked, holding up
her head. " I know that David is as true as steel, and
if mishap has overtaken him, it is no fault of his. We
can wait awhile, mother. Tell the company we will
wait awhile."
Mrs. M' Clean returned to the front room. The gos-
sips were whispering together ; most of the men had
strolled out and were standing in knots outside, looking
stern disapprobation, for a man to be behindhand on
his wedding-day did not augur well. Time sped on.
It would be an unprecedented thing if the wedding
were not to take place before noon, and the waiting
company watched the sun as it mounted high in the
heavens, and still no David appeared.
" Puir lass," sighed one good wife to another, "wid-
dowed before she's a wife."
" Or worse, deserted at the very altar. She'll not
hold her head up after this ; she's a proud lass, is Jean
M'Clean."
In the back room Jean sat. She, too, was watching
240 A GENTLE PIONEER
the sun climbing so surely and steadily toward the
zenith. At the noontide hour she arose to her feet,
her face white and drawn. " Leave me, friends," she
said. " There'll be no wedding to-day. I am sorry
to disappoint you. Leave me, please."
They all filed out, casting compassionate looks upon
her. Agnes alone refused to leave. " Oh, Jeanie dear,"
she whispered, "out of evils sometimes comes a blessing.
I have known it so. Don't give up, dear heart."
Jeanie turned from her and clasped her hands, then
with groping steps strove to reach the door; at the
threshold she stopped. "I can't I can't face them
all," she cried. " Tell my mother."
"Hark!" exclaimed Agnes. There was the sound of
flying hoofs beat, beat, along the road. With one
spring Jeanie reached the window and pulled back the
curtain. " It's David ! " she cried. " It's David, my
lad ! " and then all trembling she sank down, sobbing
out her joy.
CHAPTER XV
WHO HAD THE WILL
IT was, without doubt, David who was coming
pounding along the path up from the woods,
and who, dusty and travel-stained, drew up his reek-
ing horse before the door. The men gathered closely
about him, the women craned their necks from the
door. " What is the matter, Davy, lad ? What kept
ye, Dave ? Are ye ill, lad ? Look at the hoss, he's
near spent," were some of the various remarks made,
as David, elbowing his way through the crowd, entered
the house. He answered no questions, but made straight
for Mrs. M'Clean. " Where's Jeanie ? " he asked hur-
riedly, and following her glance he went toward the
door of the next room, paused not to knock, but en-
tered forthwith.
Jeanie, the tears still standing in her eyes, was wait-
ing. David held out his two hands. " Am I too late,
lass ? It's not my fault. I beeta get here long ago,
but it's a tale I must tell later. I am safe now, but
am I too late ? Will ye turn me off for being behind-
hand ? Do you doubt me ? "
R 241
242 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Not I, David," said Jeanie, giving him her hands.
" I'm thankful you've come to no mishap. I never
doubted you, but I feared ill had befallen you."
" Will ye tak me as I am, dusty an' worn with
travel? I've come forty mile the morn. Will ye
listen to me tale now, or will ye stand up wi' me be-
fore the meenister so?" David was lapsing into the
dialect of his childhood, in his excitement.
"Ay, David, I will marry you first, and hear the
tale after. It's not too late ; the sun was at noon but
half an hour ago, and the company will be glad not to
miss the wedding."
He took her by the hand, and led her into the next
room. The guests fell back into their places, whisper-
ing, nudging, wondering. In consideration of the feast
awaiting, and in view of the curiosity which pervaded
the entire party, the minister's harangue was not so
lengthy as usual, and the two standing before him
were wedded in short order, but in the prayer there
were fewer allusions to the wife's being in obedience
to her husband, and more expressions of thankfulness
than were commonly spoken ; the good pastor evi-
dently felt that the young man had escaped disaster,
and did not hesitate to say so.
The final blessing had hardly been pronounced when
the curious friends crowded around. "Yer story,
David ; ye promised it."
" Tut, tut ! " cried Polly O'Neill, " an' where are yer
WHO HAD THE WILL 243
good wishes ? Ye're that ongracious, all o' ye, that ye'd
leave the bride an' groom wid no congratulaytions at
all. Here's good health to ye, Mr. an' Mrs. David
Campbell, an' may ye have thumpin' luck."
Then came a merry effort from each to outdo the
others in getting a hand-shake, a kiss from the bride, and
a chance to offer good wishes, the minister standing by
in his blacks, a serious smile upon his kind, weather-
beaten face. The girls laughing, pushing, exclaiming,
exchanging jokes with the young men, were first to
throw themselves upon the bride's neck, after she had
received the kisses of her father and mother ; and then
the young men must kiss the bride, too ; and the more
saucy damsels challenged the groom for a like ex-
change. So for a time there was much merry-mak-
ing and laughter.
When the last good wish had been spoken, the minis-
ter turned to the company. " My friends," he said, " I
think David has something to say to us, and if ye will
all take orderly places, we shall hear it."
David, blushing up to the roots of his hair, stood
awkwardly facing the guests. " My friends," he began,
" I owe my excuses to ye for keeping ye waiting, but
when I tell ye how it came about, I think ye'll say it
was no because I lacked the wish to get here." He
paused and looked around for encouragement.
" Ay, David," said the minister, " nae one doubts the
desire."
244 A GENTLE PIONEER
David continued. " This morning at daybreak I was
forty miles away from here. I left Maxwell's yesterday
morn, expecting to get here by sundown, but after I'd
gone a mile I remembered something I had forgotten
and turned back. A quarter mile further on, from the
bushes sprang two men, one grabbed the bridle, the
other covered me with his pistol.
" ' Get off, peaceably,' he says, * and ye'll have no
harm done ye.' I felt for me knife, but it was yorked
out of my hand, and knowing I'd not time for many
hours' delay, down I got. * Ye're on the way to Max-
well's,' said one of the villyuns.
" ' What's that to you ? ' said I.
" ' It's a good bit to me,' he said, ' if ye were coming
away.' He looked at me threatening like, and I made
haste to say, ' I'm going there,' though I was both going
and coming, and had been before.
" * We're not too late, then,' said the other fellow.
' Hand over every paper about ye, and we'll let ye go.' "
A sharp exclamation came from Parker Willett stand-
ing near the door.
David paid no heed to it but went on. " I'd no mind
to do that, and I refused. With that the two fell on me,
and we'd a fight of it, but being two against one, at last
they got me down and tied me hand and foot; then
they went through my pockets, my pouch, my saddle-
bags, and even took the shoes from my feet ; but they
didn't find what they wanted.
WHO HAD THE WILL 245
"May I ask,' says I, 'what ye're looking for; and
maybe I can help ye, for I've no time to lose.'
" ' We're looking for a will, a forged will,' said one.
" ' I've no forged will,' said I, 'nor ever did have, and
if ye're looking for the will of old man Muirhead, ye can
spare yerself the trouble, for you're too late by three
days. It's in the magistrate's hands by this time, and
I'm glad of it.' Then one of them hit me a lick, and
told me not to be so free with my opinions. 'Ye said
ye were going to Maxwell's,' he said.
" ' I did,' said I.
" ' Then how can ye have placed it in the hands of the
law ? ' says he. ' Because,' I gave him answer, ' I've
already come from Maxwell's this morning, and had
but turned to go back for a bit of something I forgot.'
The man gave a kick. 'You're a deceitful, lyin' fool,'
said he.
" I reminded him what the Bible says of them that call
others fools, but he glowered at me and says, ' I don't
half believe ye. We know ye did have the will, for
Park Willett was seen to give it to ye down by Locke's
ford.'
'"Whatever Park Willett's given me,' I said, 'I've
not now, and I'll never have again, so you'll let me up
and I'll go on.' With that the one that did the most
talking gave me another kick, and if I ever get my two
hands on him, the lambastin' I'll give him "
There were growls of approval from David's friends,
246 A GENTLE PIONEER
but the minister's voice came in : " Go on, David.
' Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord ! ' '
David composed himself, and went on with his story.
"'To-morrow is my wedding-day, men,' said I, 'and you'll
let me up or the country won't be big enough for ye
when I'm free,' but they only laughed at me, and first
thing I knew I was alone, not able to move hand or
foot, and they'd gone from sight."
A dozen hands sought their hunting-knives in their
excitement. " Who were the men ? Did ye ever see
them before ? " said one. "We'll settle their hash once
we find them."
" I never saw them before, and I want to see them
just once again," returned David.
" But how did you get away ? " came the question
from half a dozen.
" I lay there till nearly dawn this morning, working
at the straps that bound me ; finally I managed to get
the leg straps loose and got to my feet. My horse was
willing enough to be caught and to follow me to Max-
well's, for I was that stiff I could not mount him." He
did not say with what effort the walk was made after
the long restraint. " There I got my hands freed, had
some breakfast, fed my horse, and started for home as
hard as I could gallop. If Donald had dropped, I
would have footed it, but he held out, and here I am."
It was the longest speech David had ever made, and
it made its impression, following so closely as it did
WHO HAD THE WILL 247
upon Parker's adventure. The indignation of the men
was roused to the uttermost. "We'll h'ist Hump; he's
got to get out of here; it's all his doings," they cried.
" It'll be too hot for him, he'll find. Those men wanted
to get a chance to make tracks was why they left ye
there alone, David ; they didn't want ye to trace 'em."
Parker made his way over to Agnes. " It was David
I gave the will to, I remember all about it ; it all came
back to me as soon as he began his story. I remember
that, as I was passing Locke's ford, he came by and told
me he was going to Marietta ; it struck me that here was
a chance to send the will, and that I could not have a
safer messenger. So I concluded that I would make
a copy and show that to Hump Muirhead. I had a bit
of paper with me that I could use, and the writing of it
did not take a moment. I put it in the sliding panel of
the little box for safe-keeping. Have you looked to see
if there is anything there ? "
" No," Agnes replied ; " I supposed it was empty. I
am so sorry for poor David ; he has had a deal of worri-
ment. What a lot of trouble that will has made ! "
"So much the better, for it will prove its genuine-
ness. Nobody would make such a fuss over a worthless
piece of paper, and it is evident that Hump Muirhead
considers it important. I am glad that it is in proper
hands and that your interests are secure. Hump
Muirhead could not have chosen a surer way to rid
the settlement of his very undesirable self, for not one
248 A GENTLE PIONEER
of these men will stand such outrages, and we will hunt
him out of the neighborhood."
" He deserves it," Agnes replied. " Poor Jeanie ! it
was so dreadful to have her wedding-day so nearly a
day of grief and sorrow. If David had not been able
to free himself, he might still have been lying there,
and have died of cold and hunger ; that is terrible to
think of."
In a few minutes the dinner was ready and a mighty
feast it was. The plain table of hewn boards bore no
fine damask, but it held a plentiful supply of roast
pork, venison, and wild turkey ; game pies were flanked
by plenty of potatoes and hominy, and there were pud-
dings, pies, and preserves to end up with, so that the
company arose well satisfied, keen as their appetites
were.
There followed a boisterous scene, when every one
seemed to make an effort to be as noisy as possible
and to outdo his neighbor in merry-making. In the
lively games Polly was usually leader, and her jokes
and quips evoked the heartiest laughter. She seemed
determined that the discomfort of the early part of the
day should be lost in rollicking fun, and that the wed-
ding should be remembered as the gayest in the neigh-
borhood. When the fun became too fast and furious,
Agnes sought her mother's side, and after a while
Parker Willett made his way over to where the two
were sitting. "It is a lively scene," he remarked to
WHO HAD THE WILL 249
Mrs. Kennedy. " I don't suppose you ever saw any-
thing just like it before."
" Not just like it, although we have had some noisy
times at weddings in our own neighborhood, but there
is a mixture here of our own customs and of those of
the backwoodsmen."
It was about ten o'clock that Polly came up and
whispered to Mrs. Kennedy, " Where has Agnes
gone ? "
Mrs Kennedy smiled. " She has slipped off to join
the girls who are stealing the bride away to her room.
Did you want her specially, Polly ? "
" Oh, no ; I did but think to ask her to have an eye
on the babies when she has a chance."
" I looked in upon them not long ago and they were
all asleep, sound enough, in spite of the noise. I sup-
pose," she turned to Park Willett as Polly walked away
satisfied, " that we shall have a repetition of this at the
housewarming."
" Yes, it is much the same thing at all the festivities.
It was a curious thing about the will, Mrs. Kennedy. I
suppose the court will appoint an executor, but it will
be some time before you gain possession of your prop-
erty, unless the friends of David succeed in running
the present occupant off."
" I am sorry for his wife and children," Mrs. Ken-
nedy returned sorrowfully.
" They are the only ones to be pitied, but the chil-
250 A GENTLE PIONEER
dren will not be long in adopting a new home, and Mrs.
Muirhead could not be much lonelier or much harder
worked than she is now."
" I should like to see her and the children."
" I will tell her ; she seems greatly pleased by any
notice taken of her or the children. Your husband
tells- me that you are putting up two more rooms."
" Yes, he and Jimmy are working hard over the addi-
tion. It will be much more comfortable; the space
is too small for two families."
" Your husband improves. Your coming did him
good."
"Do you think so?" Mrs. Kennedy was wistful.
" I have hoped against hope, yet I do think there is a
little change for the better. He seems to notice little
things more than he did, and has become very fond of
the baby whom he at last accepts as our own. I think
it is good for him to have youth and brightness about
him. The children do not seem to trouble him, and I
see him and the boys carrying on long conversations
together."
" I am glad to hear that ; it promises well." He
suddenly stopped speaking, and Mrs. Kennedy saw
that he had caught sight of Agnes, who had just re-
appeared with a bevy of girls. She noticed that Agnes
met his glance and that a soft flush flew to the girl's
cheek.
" One wedding often follows another. Example is
WHO HAD THE WILL 2$ I
a great thing," said a voice at her side. " I suppose, Mrs.
Kennedy, that your little lass will soon be leaving you."
" Scarcely yet," replied the mother. " I hope I shall
keep her by me for many a day, Mrs. Scott."
"It's Archie M'Clean, they say," ventured Mrs.
Scott, " though for my part, I think it will be some one
else." She gave a comprehensive nod toward the young
man standing near Mrs. Kennedy.
" Marriage is not in the mind of my lassie," Mrs.
Kennedy returned with some dignity. " She has been
away from her mother for so long that she is content to
bide at home with her now." Agnes now rejoined her
mother who shared her stool with her. Seats were
scarce, and many of the lads thought it no discourtesy
to offer their laps for the convenience of the lassies, and
the offer was taken in good part and generally accepted.
Agnes preferred to share her mother's three-legged
stool, and sat there contentedly.
" Are you dull, dear mother ? " she whispered.
" No, I am vastly entertained. This exhibit of back-
woods manners amuses me greatly ; it is quite beyond
my comprehension, yet they are all good people. I
thought we at home were far removed from city ways,
but this is surprising." She found herself turning to
Parker Willett. " It is strange what a press of neces-
sity will bring about, and how soon one becomes used to
things which at first seem shocking. I doubt not another
generation will forget gentle ways entirely."
252 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Another and some succeeding ones, but as the popu-
lation increases more gentleness will leaven society out
here. Ceremonies come to be useless things where one
must battle with the conditions which exist in a new
settlement; there is not time for them. Yet when one
considers that we are not the real pioneers and what
risks were run by those first intrepid leaders, and what
privations they endured, ours of fifty years later seems a
great gain. We have escaped those bloody wars that
the advance-guard fought for us, and feel that we have
been outdone in courage by those who first dared to
cross the mountains to open up this Western Range."
" My father was one of them," said Mrs. Kennedy,
sadly.
" Yes, and we should be proud of him. You should
hold up your head at being the daughter of so brave a
pioneer. Putnam's colony those sturdy New Eng-
landers seems to be doing well; they put a deal of en-
ergy into what they do, and are developing the country
wonderfully ; the Muskingum colony thrives and we
shall soon be no longer in a wilderness, Mrs. Kennedy."
" You say that for encouragement."
" No, I say it from my own conviction. Are you
tired of all this ? Would you like to slip off into a
quieter place ? We can't go home till morning, you
know, and they will keep this up till daybreak. I will
make way for you, if you care to go somewhere else."
He shouldered his way past the merrymakers, and
WHO HAD THE WILL 253
Agnes followed. They passed out into the lean-to, and
from thence into one of the outbuildings where stood
the loom, and which was known as the weaving room.
"I discovered this safe retreat some time ago," said Parker.
" I know where there is a pile of sheepskins ; I will get
some, and you two can lie down and take a rest." He
disappeared and soon returned with the skins which he
threw on the floor. There was no light in the room
save such as came from the moonlight which shone
through the small window, but it was not needed by the
mother and daughter who lay down side by side, glad
of an opportunity of taking a longed-for rest, while Parker
locked the door on them.
Sandy and the other boys of his size had taken refuge
in the stable ; the smaller children were huddled to-
gether in one of the rooms indoors, for their mothers
were obliged to bring them or to stay at home from the
wedding, a thing not to be thought of.
Up and down in the moonlight paced Parker, keeping
watch while Agnes and her mother slept. It was
against all custom to allow any one to escape for the
purpose of taking a nap, and he knew that the two
would be hunted up as soon as they were missed, but he
determined that they should not be disturbed if he could
help it, and when a mischievous searcher came prowling
around, he succeeded in eluding detection till they had
tried the door and, rinding it fast, had returned to the
house.
254 A GENTLE PIONEER
At early dawn the sound of the boisterous fun was
still to be heard, but with the daylight, the procession
was ready to form again, and the revellers returned to
their several homes. David's prolonged absence had
prevented the putting of his cabin in complete order for
his bride, but the housewarming was soon to be, and
the day after it Jeanie would move to her new home.
Polly, jaded and fagged out, could do nothing but
sleep the day after the wedding, and, indeed, there
were few in the community who felt like attending with
much spirit to their accustomed duties, and only the
older people, who had been excused from sitting up all
night, were feeling bright and fresh.
" We are lucky in not having two or three days of it,"
said Parker, as he parted with Agnes and her mother ;
" we're let off well this time, because of the M'Cleans'
desire in the matter, but if you ever go to Jerry Hun-
ter's wedding, for instance, I promise you that the frolic
will keep up for nearly a week. We don't often get a
chance to do this sort of thing, and when we do, it seems
as if we didn't know when to stop. You will not for-
get, all of you, that you are to come over and have sup-
per with me as soon as my place is in order, so hold
yourselves in readiness."
" Don't go till you have looked at the little box," said
Agnes, as he was departing.
" I will wait for you under the sycamore," he said, as
she ran in to get it.
WHO HAD THE WILL 255
The girl was not slow in returning and in giving the
box into Parker's hands. He touched the spring and
the panel slid back ; the compartment was empty.
" Humph ! " exclaimed Parker. " I wonder what that
means ! What will Hump Muirhead be up to next ? "
He shut the slide thoughtfully and handed the box back
to Agnes, but there was a puzzled look on his face.
" Some one found that copy of the will. I wonder who.
We must find out, though it is really of no consequence
now, since the true one is safe. Now that they are
both out of our possession, we ought to expect no more
trouble. I think I'll hunt up Hump and hear what he
has to say. He evidently set those men on David's
track, although I don't see why he thought David had
the will if I had it. The plot thickens. I'll talk to Dod
about it, but don't bother your head over it, little girl,
for all you have to do is to wait till you are free to
move into your own home. If I learn anything of im-
portance, I'll let you know." He mounted his horse
and rode off, a thoughtful look upon his face.
CHAPTER XVI
A SUPPER AT PARKER WILLETTS
THE summer had come upon them before Parker
was ready to issue his invitation for his friends to
come to take supper with him in his little shanty, for
being very comfortable at Dod Hunter's, and being in
no hurry to exchange hearty, cheerful society for utter
loneliness, the young man set to work to prepare his
garden and plant his corn-field before he should occupy
his cabin. Agnes had seen him but once or twice since
the wedding, but she had little time to fret over it, for
with so many little mouths to feed there was plenty for
her to do, and she was too weary at night to lie awake
long indulging in girlish dreams. Dod Hunter, as
nearest neighbor and oldest friend of Mrs. Kennedy's
father, had been appointed executor, and probably no
better choice could have been made. The disappear-
ance of the copy of the will still remained a mystery
over which all interested were' puzzled.
It was June before Parker appeared to bid his friends
to his modest attempt at a housewarming. "This is
to be strictly a party for ladies," he said, laughing, to
256
A SUPPER AT PARKER WILLETTS 257
Jimmy O'Neill, " and when I set up for a householder
and a benedict, I'll have a real housewarming. My one
room will hardly accommodate all my friends."
" Fergus and me'll stay at home and look after the
young uns," Jimmy agreed cheerfully, "an* let the
women folk have their frolic. But ye'll be enlargin'
yer borders an' takin' a wife before a year," he added
with a sly smile. " Have ye heerd no more o' Hump
Muirhead ? "
" Not I ; he hasn't troubled me and I haven't troubled
him. Dod assured me that he was able to attend to his
business as executor, and I therefore gracefully retired
from the case. Of course the court will give him a
reasonable time to get out, and though he's no coward
in most directions, he's well aware of the attitude of the
neighbors toward him and he'll not be swaggering
around much. You and Mr. Kennedy will be coming
over to my clearing, Jimmy, and I'll promise you as fine
a johnny-cake as you ever ate at home."
"We'll come," Jimmy answered, "after the women
folk have had their time. Ay lad, but it's buildin' up
the country is since the Injuns have come to terms, and
we've the treaty of Greenville. The Range is fillin' up,
the Reserve north av us is like to see good times, and
the Ohio Company south is runnin' 'em close. We are
in the thick av the immigration. I heerd, the time I
went up to Marietta, that nigh twenty thousand had
come along in the past year, and it's towns they'll be
s
258 A GENTLE PIONEER
showin' soon. Look at Marietta with her streets an'
her churches an' a flock o' people roamin' about. We've
got close to ceevilization, Mr. Willett. No more standin'
wid a musket in wan hand whilst ye plant yer corn wid
the other."
" That's all very true, Jimmy ; I am impressed by it
every time I come this way. I realize that our own little
township is growing by the number of new faces I meet
on the road."
"Thrue for ye. Weel, 'it takes nae butter off my
bannock' to have them comin,' for they open up the coun-
try, and the more the merrier." He turned back to his
forge, and Parker walked toward the house where he
found Mrs. Kennedy busily sewing. Agnes was help-
ing Polly at the dye-kettle ; Margret, with the children
around her, was playing school under the trees. Mr.
Kennedy was at work in the garden, for, though this
was considered the women's province, since Jimmy's
arrival it had fallen to Fergus's share.
It was a pleasant, busy scene and showed thrift and
content and peace. In a sty back of the house grunted
a sow and her young pigs ; Agnes's chickens crooned
their sleepy song with much content among the dust-
heaps which they sought out ; a swarm of wild bees
which Polly had hived, now quite at home, were dron-
ing about the garden beds. Two new rooms having
been added, one above and one below, there was now
sufficient space to house the two families comfortably.
A SUPPER AT PARKER WILLETTS 259
Jimmy had set up his forge and the place was fre-
quented by those neighbors who had not a like con-
venience upon their own clearings, and it was quite a
gathering-place for news-gatherers, though the clearings
lay closer together around the little log church.
Mrs. Kennedy looked up with a smiling welcome,
but she did not stop her swift stitches. " Good morn-
ing, stranger," she said.
" I am something of a stranger," the young man
replied, coming in, " but it is not of choice that I am
so, Mrs. Kennedy. I have come over to ask if you
and Polly and Agnes will honor my little cabin this
afternoon and take that long-promised supper with me.
Jimmy says he and your husband will look after the
children."
"Yes? That is kind of Jimmy. They will be
no trouble, however, for they are always good with
Margret."
"Where is Polly?"
" She and Agnes are at the dye-kettle. It seemed
a fine day for the work. They are around at the back
of the house."
" I think I could find them without trouble," said
Parker, smiling, as Polly's laugh smote his ear. Polly
was always merry over the dye-kettle. "You'll come
this evening, Mrs. Kennedy ? "
" Gladly. I have never crossed the river, you know."
" It is not much of a journey if one rows over from
260 A GENTLE PIONEER
this side ; sometimes, though, I find it easier to come
by the ford. I think if you row over and I meet you
with horses on the other side, it will be the best way.
It will be bright moonlight coming back, and you need
not be afraid even if you do hear uncanny noises."
" I shall know what they are. I am getting quite
used to the sound of wolves and wildcats."
" I will go and make my request to Polly, then."
Guided by the peals of laughter, Parker took his way
toward the back of the house where Polly was chasing
Agnes around with threatening blued hands. " Once
I get me hands on that red poll, I'll make it purple,'*
she was crying, and Agnes was laughingly defying
her with the big stick she had been using to stir the
dye.
" I will surely give you a taste of this, Polly, if you
come a step nearer," she was saying.
"You romping children," cried Parker. "Will you
cease your play for a moment and speak to me ? "
Polly advanced holding out her blue-stained hand.
" I'll be glad to shake hands with ye, Mr. Willett," she
declared, and laughed with glee as he backed off.
" Polly is so reckless, and she calls my hair red, Mr.
Willett," Agnes complained.
" It's nearer that than anything else ; ye wouldn't
call it black, would ye?" Polly asked.
" No, but mother calls it auburn, and that has a nice
sound."
A SUPPER AT PARKER WILLETTS 261
" Go 'long wid ye," cried Polly, " wid yer fancy
names. Weel, Mr. Willett, yer no fashin' yersel' about
us, these days, it's clear."
" It's not what one desires in this world, but what he
finds time to do, Polly. To prove that I've been think-
ing of you I have come over to ask you all to sup with
me."
Polly looked at her stained hands. "They're a
pretty looking pair for a party," she declared.
" It's no party ; it is only for a very select and chosen
few yourself, Mrs. Kennedy, and Agnes. Will the
dyeing be finished in time for you to come over this
afternoon ? "
"Why will it not? I'll stop now." She lifted the
boiling dye from the fire, and with two sticks raised the
pieces of cloth from the hot liquid, flinging them into
a tub near by. " They're weel enow colored," she de-
cided, "and I'll finish up gin dinner-time. I've no
gloves, Mr. Willett, an* I'll not get back the color of me
hands afore the week's out. Gin Sabbath day they
beeta look better. Will ye have me so ? I can never
do a bit of dyeing, but I must give me hands the color
of me goods, be it butternut, blue, or yellow. Agnes,
there, gets but the tips of her fingers in, and is nigh
greetin' at that, so I threatened to give her hair the
same color."
" Be done, Polly," cried Agnes, as Polly advanced
upon her again, " I'll not help you with the dyeing if
262 A GENTLE PIONEER
you treat me so. Do be quiet If you stop now, when
will I get my linen dyed ? "
"You'll get it gin Tibb's eve," returned Polly, "if ye
fa' out wi' me now."
" Ah, but Polly "
"Go long into the house wid ye, ye two, an' I'll
finish up. Ye might be gittin' the vegetables for din-
ner, Nancy, an' I'll come make a puddin'. I beeta be
makin' one in honor of the stranger."
" You'd better not be giving me too good a dinner,"
said Parker, "or you'll be putting my supper to shame."
"No fear o' that. In wid ye." She brandished her
stick, and the two departed to the garden to gather such
early vegetables as they might find ready for use.
" It's been a long time since I saw you," said Parker,
speaking his thought.
" Yes ? " Agnes was well aware of it, and was dis-
posed to be a little distant in consequence, though she
well knew his reason for absenting himself. " I have
been busy, too, and I have been two or three times to
see Jeanie. The last mail brought good news from
Archie ; he is hard at work and hopes by diligence to
complete his course in a less time than we at first
thought he could. He wrote me quite a long letter;
he really can write more freely than he can talk." She
looked serenely unconscious as Parker stole a glance at
her.
" I suppose you were delighted to hear from him ? "
PARKER WATCHED HER FOR A FEW MINUTES, NOT ATTEMPTING TO HELP.
A SUPPER AT PARKER WILLETTS 263
" Oh, yes. Who wouldn't be glad to hear from an
old friend ? You would be, wouldn't you, to hear from
Alicia, for example ? "
" Agnes ! " His voice was reproachful. " I didn't
think you were a coquette."
The flush which dyed Agnes's cheek was caused by
both wrath and contrition. " I don't see what cause
you have to say that," she replied lightly. " You know
perfectly well how it is with Archie and me. I shall
probably marry him if I find no one more likable before
he returns."
" More likable ? No, I didn't know that. You didn't
tell me before. And Archie is very likable ? "
" Yes, very ; and so good and constant and thoughtful
of pleasing me. He never neglected me in his life."
" You have a very good opinion of him."
"There is no one quite like Archie." Agnes was
picking her peas without proper regard to the fulness
of their pods, her blue-tipped fingers slipping in and out
among the vines swiftly. Parker watched her for a few
minutes, not attempting to help. When he spoke again,
it was in a constrained tone. " Shall you care to come
over with your mother and Polly to sup with me ? "
Agnes's heart had leaped at the prospect, but she
said indifferently : " Oh, yes, I'd enjoy going anywhere
with mother. There, I think I have enough of these.
I must take them in and shell them." She picked up
her rudely made basket, but Parker took it from her, as
264 A GENTLE PIONEER
a matter of course. He was singularly silent, and the
tears smarted in Agnes's eyes. Why had she been so
contrary ? What had possessed her to mislead him ?
The beautiful bright summer day would be spoiled
because of her unreasonableness. But she was too
proud to alter the state of things by making advances,
and they entered the house with no attempt on either
side toward a better understanding, and neither one was
in a very happy frame of mind.
Polly had left her dye-kettle and was deep in the
mystery of the pudding she had promised to make.
Agnes called on the children to shell the peas, and gave
her own attention to some other things. Mrs. Kennedy,
meanwhile, was preparing a pair of fowls, and Parker
left them in the midst of their dinner-getting and
strolled down to the forge. Agnes saw him depart.
Why had things gone wrong ? They might now have
been sitting together over the basket of peas in happy
converse. They had often shared such a piece of work.
It did not add to her comfort to be aware that it was all
her own fault. The unusually sumptuous dinner meant
nothing to her, and she scarcely touched it.
" Nancy is saving up her appetite for this evening,"
said Polly, laughing. " You'd better not be too sure of
what you'll get at a bachelor's, Nancy."
Parker smiled. " I can't promise you such a feast
as this, Polly, though you know you are pledged to do
the cooking. I can make good corn-pone and hoe-cake,
A SUPPER AT PARKER WILLETTS 265
and I can cook a fish or a bit of bacon, but I am not
very skilful, I warn you."
"It seems like old times to see him settin' there,"
said Polly. " I declare, Park, I never knew how much
I missed ye till I see ye back agen."
"That is certainly complimentary, and I appreciate
it. I am being treated with the fat of the land. I am
afraid from the spread you have here that you have
robbed the family of a week's provender ; you know I
am very well acquainted with the resources of the
place."
" Ah but, ' it's nae loss what ye gie a freen',' as the
old saying is, and ye need think nae more of it." Polly
was in high spirits. The prospect of any kind of frolic
always put her in the best of humors.
The dinner over, Parker took his departure, and his
invited guests set out in due time to meet him on the
other side of the river. The days were now so long
that there was no fear of their being belated in getting
back, and a short stay was not to be thought of when
one went out to supper ; it meant the whole afternoon
and the evening too, if possible. Polly was full of her
quips and jokes, and pulled lustily across the stream,
but she sobered down when she got across. "Ye'll
not be far from yer ain, Mrs. Kennedy," she said, "for
Parker's got the land next yer father's, an' ye'll be seein*
what it's like. I'll be bound Hump '11 look glum as a
mustard-pot when he gets his summons to quit. I'll
266 A GENTLE PIONEER
miss ye all, but I'll be glad when ye come to yer am.
Here we are and here's Park."
Parker came forward with two horses. " How shall
we travel?" he asked. "Shall I take you, Mrs.
Kennedy ? "
But Polly spoke up. " I've bespoke her, and ye'll be
takin' Agnes. Come, Mrs. Kennedy, up behind me,"
and Agnes found herself starting off with Parker, her
arm about his waist.
The way was not very long, and it should have been
rarely pleasant to be riding through the leafy woods
this summer afternoon, tall trees about them, and the
air sweet with the smell of the grape blossoms, yet it
was Polly who did most of the talking. Parker rarely
spoke. Once his hand touched Agnes's fingers, resting
lightly upon his belt, but he withdrew from the contact
as if it hurt him. It was of the most indifferent things
that the two young persons spoke, when they spoke at
all, and the girl felt that she would have been happier
with Polly or her mother.
Before the door of the small cabin the horses at last
stopped. The woods came close about the small dwell-
ing, for it takes time to fell trees, and though the clear-
ing for the corn-field and the garden had been made,
the space seemed small in the midst of the limitless
forest, and so small, so lonely seemed the little cabin
set there in a wilderness, that one wondered how a
man could be content to make it his abode.
A SUPPfiR AT PARKER WILLETT'S 267
"Welcome to my hut," said Parker, bowing Mrs.
Kennedy in. Polly followed and Agnes came last.
The girl gave an exclamation of surprise and pleasure
as she entered the room. It showed only the barest
necessities in the way of furnishings, but the walls
were festooned with vines, and upon the table stood
a huge bowl of swamp magnolias. Heaped high at
one end upon large leaves were ripe strawberries, and
at the other were cherries as brightly red. Around
the table was twisted a grape-vine, and each rough
stool was covered with a piece of fringed deerskin.
Polly looked about her in surprise. "Who'd ha'
thought a man would ha' done all this ; it looks like
a woman's work, an' a kind that we don't see about
here. I've niver seen the beat, even at a weddhV.
How'd you get a holt o' them cherries?"
" They came from Dod Hunter's, and the strawberries,
too," Parker told her.
" It surely is very tasteful," said Mrs. Kennedy.
"You are very poetical I should think, Mr. Willett.
You have honored us very much by taking all this
trouble, yet I know it was a pleasure, too. How sweet
those magnolias are ! There is not any perfume equal
to theirs."
Fresh fish and venison were considered enough in
the way of meats, and Polly proceeded to make some
of her famous bannocks to match Parker's corn-pone,
and the two waxed very merry over their competition.
268 A GENTLE PIONEER
Once in a while Agnes stole a look at her host, but
though he was courteously polite, there was no answer-
ing glance to hers. It thrilled the girl to be beneath
this roof that must now shelter the man who had grown
so dear to her; to see there his rifle and shot pouch
hanging on two buck horns, his hunting-shirts on pegs
by the ladder which led aloft, the little row of his
precious books upon a shelf on the rough wall, his
silver drinking-cup full of wild flowers on the high
mantel-shelf; all these things so distinctly personal,
so associated with his daily life. She bit her lip, and
her eyes filled with tears as she realized that by her
own wilfulness she had lost half the delight of this
June day. What could she say to make him under-
stand her girlish pettishness ? How could she undo
the impression she had given him ? There was no
excuse she could offer that would seem adequate.
She could not tell him that in a fit of mere foolish
annoyance at his prolonged absence she had chosen
to deceive him with regard to her relations with Archie.
How courteous he was ; with what deference he waited
on her mother ; how anxious he was for the comfort of
his guests he had planned this for their pleasure and
she had made it but a bitter trial for herself.
" Shall you put a good crop in ? " said the practical
Polly, looking interestedly toward the corn-field, and
addressing Parker.
" I hope to have enough ; it does not take much to
A SUPPER AT PARKER WILLETTS 269
feed one man and his horse. ' I do not know all I ought
about farming, but I am willing to learn, and I think I
shall get along."
" It's well enough to have yer manger full," Polly
returned. " Ah, these are aisy times, Nancy, to those
we had when no man durst go out alone to plant or
hoe, and when working parties had to have their
sentries armed and watchful of the Injuns. Manny a
time their men have scuttled in from the fields, and
manny a time has my Jimmy gone out with half a dozen
others to guard some foolhardy man back to the fort
who had trusted to his own two legs to get away, and
would have been scalped in sight of his own house if it
hadn't been for his more cautious neighbors."
" And I suppose those same men were ready to fly
in the face of Providence again at the first chance, and
would go out by themselves to their fields, trusting to
luck to get back safe."
" Yes, an' if they didn't happen to get ketched, they'd
boast of how much bigger crops they had than anybody
else. I never felt in peace mesel' till Wayne's treaty."
"Yet you wouldn't leave the first settlement till you
had to," Agnes reminded her.
"We all have our follies," Polly replied calmly.
" Yer no done bein' foolish yersel', Nancy." A remark
which Agnes at that moment silently indorsed.
The supper over and the table cleared, Parker took
from the shelf his flute, and played for them many
2/0 A GENTLE PIONEER
plaintive airs, so that Agnes's heartache was made
worse instead of better. She sat by her mother on the
doorsill, Parker leaning against a tree near by. It
seemed as if his melancholy strains were a reproach
to her, and she could have wept. Polly, too, felt the
spell of the plaintive melodies, and furtively wiped her
eyes. Then her strong voice demanded something
lively. " We'll all have the doldrums ; it's worse 'an
a banshee's wailin'," she remarked vehemently, and to
please her Parker struck up " St. Patrick's Day in the
Morning," which broke the spell and set Polly's foot to
tapping time.
Then came the ride to the river which they desired to
reach before dark, and this time Agnes sprang up
before Polly, taking her mother's place and declaring
that it was but fair that they should change partners,
and when they reached the river, though Parker would
have rowed them across, they saw Jimmy waiting on the
other side, and so their host left them to glide out into
the moonlight, and all Agnes had for comfort was a
remembrance that to her was given his last hand-clasp
as he helped her into the boat, and that she so sat that
her back was toward her home, and she could behold
him standing there watching, till his figure, a silhouette
in the moonlight, was hidden behind the trees. At the
hilltop she turned to look once more, but he had gone,
and what was silver moonlight or June weather to her ?
CHAPTER XVII
IN ABSENCE
THE mystery surrounding the copy of the will
which had been extracted from Parker's box was
solved the next week, and by no less person than
Jimmy O'Neill, who came in chuckling over the discov-
ery. " When thieves fa* oot honest folk win back their
ain," he said, nodding wisely to Mrs. Kennedy, and pro-
ducing a paper from his pocket. " Hump Muirhead
overketched himsel', as I'll be tellin' ye. It seems he
offered what's most vallyble to a backwoodsman, a good
rifle, to the one of his comrades that 'ud fetch him the
will, an' a dozen av em was on the lookout for it. Two
av 'em kep' their eyes on Park Willett from the time he
left the house here till he got acrost the river, an* seein'
him give a paper to David, they turned their attention to
Davy instead, but they blundered in their plans an*
caught him comin' home instead o* goin'. Ivery man o'
thim bein' anxious to kape his own counsel, they acted
as saycrit as they could, an' they all do be watchin' their
chanst ; so when Parker drops the box, one av 'em is
ready to pick it up, and gets out the copy, an* seein' no
further use for the box, he drops it again where he
271
2/2 A GENTLE PIONEER
found it. Not bein' quite sure av what he's found an*
not knowin' the other two has seen Park give David
the will, he waits till he gits where he can examine it,
an' then he carries it to Hump in full expectation of
gittin' the prize. But Hump see as soon as he pops
eyes on it that it's but a copy, bein' as it's written on
the back av a letter addressed to Mr. Parker Willett, an'
he tells the puir gawk it's no good, an' the two av 'em
has words over it, an' the man, Bill Spear, brings it to
me, thinkin' he'll get even with Hump by tellin' the
whole tale, an' maybe do himsel' a good turn. An' "
but Jimmy stopped short, considering that it would not
be pleasant information if he told Mrs. Kennedy that
there were some determined men in the neighborhood
who were bent on ridding the place of Humphrey Muir-
head, and who were threatening to tar and feather him
if he did not leave within a given time. Jimmy himself
was one of the party, and he did not mean that the plans
should miscarry.
Jimmy's listeners gave him strict attention till he had
finished. " An* why did he come to ye ? " Polly asked
with a twinkle in her eye.
Jimmy answered first by a sly nod. " He knew which
side his bread was buttered on. I've not a forge for
nothin'." Polly understood. She had talked the matter
over with her husband, and knew without being told that
Bill Spear was aware that Jimmy was a leader in the
plan to rid the neighborhood of Hump Muirhead.
IN ABSENCE 273
" Alack-a-day," sighed Mrs. Kennedy. "We're a
deal of trouble to our neighbors ; I'd rather the will had
never been found than to have stirred up riots."
Jimmy laughed. " Ye've no call to say that, ma'am ;
it stirs up the blood to be havin' a bit av adventure, an'
there's no wan av us but's glad to sarve you. It puts
naebody in a pother at all. We'll have ye settled in
your own corner gin ye know it, Mrs. Kennedy. By
the way, Nancy," he turned to the girl who was eagerly
taking in all the talk, " I saw Davy Campbell the
morn ; he was up for me to shoe his mare, an' he
says Jeanie would like to see ye ; she's a bit av news
for ye."
"Then I'll go over." Agnes looked at her mother
for approval.
" Certainly go," said Mrs. Kennedy. And that after-
noon Agnes set forth. She had been eager to see
Jeanie in her new establishment, and was not surprised
to find her singing blithely and looking as happy as
possible.
She ran out to meet Agnes and drew her indoors.
Everything was spick-and-span about the little cabin,
and David's thought for his bride was evidenced by the
many useful little helps toward her housekeeping that
his busy hands had provided for her. " He is so good, is
Davy," said Jeanie, showing off her various possessions
with much pride. " I wish ye had a man of your ain,
Nancy."
2/4 A GENTLE PIONEER
Agnes laughed. " 'Tis always the way of those
who're married; they're soon ready to entice others
into the trap into which they have fallen."
" Ah but, Nancy, that's no way to speak of matri-
mony. See how happy I am, and is it strange that I
should want a like happiness to come to you ? "
"A girl might well envy you, Jeanie, for you've
everything very comfortable," Agnes confessed.
" David has even planted a flower garden for me,"
the bride told her friend, " and he gets up bright and
early to weed it. Did you ever hear of a man like
that ? Most think there's more than enough to do, but
there's not a lazy bone in David's body."
" But what's the news you have to tell me, Jeanie ? "
" Ah, that's the best yet ; Archie is coming home for
a spell, an' he'll study here with the meenister, and
then go to the academy at Canonsburg, and that'll be
no so far from home. Are you not glad, Nancy ? "
"I am very glad for Archie."
" And you will be glad to see him ? "
" Of course, Jeanie, why shouldn't I be ? " But
she spoke without much enthusiasm, then realizing her
spiritless speech, she added : " We're old friends,
Archie and I, and we've had many a good time to-
gether. I hope we'll have many another."
" I can echo that wish," Jeanie responded heartily.
" Sit down, now, Nancy, and tell me all that has been
going on your way."
IN ABSENCE 275
Agnes drew her knitting from her pocket, and the
two sat on the doorsill, their fingers busy with their
clicking needles and their tongues going quite as fast
Agnes related Jimmy's account of Bill Spear, and as
this was a matter in which both Jeanie and David were
greatly interested, her piece of news was received with
much attention. " David will be glad to hear that it is all
cleared up. How everything is smoothing out, Agnes !
I am so glad for you all. Must you go ? " for Agnes
had risen, and was putting away her knitting.
"Yes, I must. I promised mother I'd not stay late,
for she does not like me to go through the woods alone,
and I thought I would stop at Patty Scott's to see how
the baby is. I heard she had been ill."
" When Archie comes, you will not have to go through
the woods alone. Ah, Nancy, there are good times in
store for us. We four will have many a time together.
I shall yet have you for my sister."
Agnes turned to take her path toward Patty Scott's,
but there was no responsive echo in her heart to Jeanie's
anticipations. Archie's coming would but complicate
matters for her, and she felt a heartsinking at thought
of it. He would be taking up her spare moments
and expecting attention from her. She must see
Parker soon, and tell him of Archie's coming, and if he
would but give her the chance, she would assure him
that no minister's wife did she intend to be. " But,"
she sighed, " he takes so much for granted, and does not
276 A GENTLE PIONEER
seem to know that I was but flouting him that day."
She pressed her hands together and looked eagerly
toward the hilltop as she approached it, but no one was
there waiting for her. It seemed as if she went down
into the shadow of a great disappointment as she de-
scended the hill. But there was her mother coming to
meet her her dear mother. The girl's heart outran
her footsteps. " How kind of you to come to meet me,
mother," she said as she came up. " I like to have you
do that."
" Always ? " returned her mother, smiling.
Agnes smiled consciously, then her face looked grave.
" Sit down for a moment under this tree," said her
mother. " I have something to tell you. Mr. Willett
has been here. Did you meet him ? He said he would
try to find you."
" No, I did not see him. I went around by Patty
Scott's to see how her baby was."
" Then that is why he missed you. I am sorry. He
left a little note for you in case he should not see you.
Wait, my lamb," for Agnes had turned and was holding
out her hand eagerly. "He came to make his fare-
wells; he is on his way to Marietta. He is called home
by the illness of his mother."
Agnes turned deathly pale, and whispered, "The
note, the note, mother."
Mrs. Kennedy took it from the bosom of her gown,
and handed it to the girl who received it with shaking
IN ABSENCE 277
fingers. Her mother arose from the fallen log on which
they were sitting and moved away for a short distance,
while Agnes read :
" I am sorry to miss you, little girl, but perhaps, after
all, it is best. May you be happy in the love of that
good youth, Archie. I am leaving some books which
I hope you will enjoy reading. Good-by, and God
bless you.
"Your friend,
" PARKER WILLETT."
Over and over again Agnes read the note till the
words seemed burnt into her brain. It meant more
than an ordinary farewell. He would never understand
now, and he was going back to Virginia and to
Alicia. She gasped at the thought of all that the part-
ing meant, and for a moment felt that no force could
keep her from seeking to overtake him. She ran back to
her mother. " When did he go ? When ? How long? "
" It was an hour after you left. Oh, my child, do not
look so ! He will come back."
" Too late, too late," moaned Agnes.
" Why do you say that ? He will return as soon as
his mother ceases to need him. She is very ill, and
there is no hope of her recovery. She calls for him,
and he will go to remain with her while she lives, be
it a long or a short time. It should not be such a
grievous thing to you, dear heart, when he will return."
278 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Oh, mother, mother, you don't know. There was a
misunderstanding, and it was my fault, and now I can
never set him right. Oh, no, I see that I never can.
Oh, mother, mother, if I had but been at home, all
might have been so different. Oh, why did I go ? "
Her mother put her arms about her, and led her
farther under the shadow of the trees. " Dear bairn,
I wish I could bear this for you, but I think he loves
you, and it may all be for the best; one never knows
what the trials are sent for. Do not greet so, my lamb.
I know that when troubles come to us when we are
young they seem black indeed, and the day of peace
and comfort a long way off ; but don't despair, my dear,
remember who is a * very present help in trouble.' "
Agnes sighed, and her choking sobs ceased. "Tell
me all he said, mother. It came so suddenly I was
not prepared; I ought to be more brave. I am not
always so cowardly when troubles come."
" No, dear, you have been the bravest of the brave.
There is not very much to tell. He was not here very
long, for he was anxious to be on the way as soon as
possible, and I think he hoped to be able to meet you.
He wishes to reach home as soon as he can. There
was a letter from his sister, he said. He thanked us all
for our kindness."
"And it is he who has been kind."
" So I told him. He asked for the little box of min-
iatures. I found it and gave it to him, but he left some
IN ABSENCE 279
books, quite a number which he said he had promised
to lend you."
Agnes was quite calm now. " Mother," she said, " I
will trust and wait. You are right, we should not give
way to fears. I am glad of the books ; they will be a
great comfort. Mother, you know you know how I
feel. I am not ashamed that I do care so much, and
you said oh, mother, you said you thought he was not
indifferent to me, so I will trust and wait, but oh, mother,
comfort me."
" My bairn, my lamb ! " The mother's arms were
again about her. " What more can I say ? Be patient
and endure and all will be well. It may be only a short
time before he is here again, and you may be all the
happier because of this parting."
Agnes lifted her head from her mother's shoulder.
" Ah, yes, mother, that is comforting. I remember, too,
that sometimes out of a sorrow comes joy, and I have
you, mother dear, and that is so much."
But the days that followed were very weary ones ;
the world seemed to have lost its beauty. The thought
of that empty little cabin in the wilderness would bring
a pang to the girl's heart, and each evening she would
climb the hill at the sunset hour to live over the happy
moments with which the spot was associated. The
small store of books she carried to her room to be
pored over, touched lingeringly, and treasured for
had not his hands held them ? Had not his eyes dwelt
280 A GENTLE PIONEER
on every page ? Had he not followed the thought
therein expressed ? There was nothing that could have
expressed so much or have brought such enduring asso-
ciation as these, and in time Agnes became so familiar
with them that she could have repeated pages of Shake-
speare's plays, Milton's " Paradise Lost," Addison's es-
says, or Spenser's " Faerie Queene." And when Archie
came she quite astonished and pleased him by her
learning.
TMs young man's coming was not delayed very long,
for by midsummer he was in their midst, looking very
much improved by his stay in a more civilized com-
munity. He made no delay in going to see Agnes, and
eagerly asked at his first opportunity : " Are ye still
heart-free, Agnes ? Is there no one sitting up wi' ye ? "
" No one, Archie," she replied.
"And there's none o' the lads hereabouts you like
better than me ? Ye've not forgotten, and ye still have
the sixpence ? "
" I have it still, yes." She ignored the first part of
his speech.
"Ah, weel, then." Archie gave a sigh of satisfac-
tion. He felt surer of his ground. He had been some-
what disturbed on Parker Willett's account, but Jeanie
had reassured him by telling him that Parker had left
the neighborhood. "Jist persevere, Archie," she said.
" It's slow and steady wins the race." Nevertheless, he
felt that somehow there was a change in Agnes; she
IN ABSENCE 281
was more thoughtful and gentle, and less free with him
than she had been. He approved of the thoughtfulness
and gentleness, and attributed the fact of her diffidence
to her feeling more conscious in his presence now that
she was older. Archie was quite a self-satisfied person,
and was not disposed to underrate himself, especially
since he had been at his grandfather's. He had ob-
served the deference paid to the " meenister," and felt
himself quite in the position to accept all the considera-
tion due to the cloth. " It's not to be wondered at that
she is impressed by the knowledge I'm gamin','' he
told himself, "and she's beginning to see that it's a
high position in the world she'll be having."
But one fatal day Agnes undeceived him, and he
groped for some time in a pit of humility which he had
digged for himself.
It was as the two were coming home from Jeanie's
one summer evening. Jeanie always did her best to
show off Archie's learning, and to let Agnes know that
he was becoming a person of importance. And on this
particular occasion Archie was feeling specially pleased
with himself, the more so that Agnes was very quiet,
and he felt that she was quite impressed. He was more
than usually voluble,having gained much in the art of
conversation in his absence.
" I am thinking," he said, " of those days when I was
in such awe of our good meenister. To be sure, Agnes,
there is much dignity in the office, but it is not you that
282 A GENTLE PIONEER
need feel abashed by my little learning. ' Quod igno-
tum pro magnifico est? " He rolled the Latin words off
his tongue with a relish.
Agnes's temper had been rising all the evening. She
was not slow to notice Archie's self-complacence and
she turned on him. " Speak in plain English, Archie
M'Clean. You needn't try to air your knowledge before
me. I abashed by you ? Stand in awe of your little
pickings of learning ? I'll venture to say that I know
more this minute about some things than you do. Can
you recite me the play of Hamlet ? Can you tell me
when King Henry Fifth of England entered France?
or who it was that wrote the * Faerie Queene ' ? "
Archie looked at her in amazement. "Are ye daft,
Agnes ? Why should you be knowing all those
things ? "
" I do know them, and many other things of the
same kind. There is a man, more modest than you,
who has been to a great university, and yet who does
not all the time be speaking in Latin, and yet I have no
doubt but that he has forgotten more than you will ever
know. I will answer your Latin speech with another :
* Laus propria sordet] and I hope you like it." She
was as proud in her mouthing of the words as Archie
had been. It was Parker who had taught her the
saying, " Self-praise defiles," and she had repeated
the Latin rendering till she remembered it, and now
flung it at Archie with a scorn which completely
IN ABSENCE' 283
crushed him. He had not a word to say for some
minutes, and then he remarked meekly, " I didn't
know you knew Latin, Agnes."
" I don't, but I know that, and it fits the case. I've
no pleasure in a man who blows his own trumpet."
" Do I do that ? "
" I should think you would be well aware of it when
it is your chief occupation. You bluster around here
as if the universe belonged to you, and you are so
puffed up with importance that there is no comfort
to be had in you. Ah, but you're sadly changed,
Archie, and not for the better." And Archie's hu-
miliation was complete. Agnes, having begun to give
vent to her feelings, went on. " I used to think you
were as nice and modest a lad as ever I knew, but if
being a minister means disobeying Paul's injunction
not to be puffed up, then I'll forswear ministers,
though they are the heralds of the gospel."
" Ah, but, Agnes ! " Archie's voice was shocked, but
he made no further protest. She had sent her shafts
home with a vengeance and he smarted under the
wounds. He was conscious that there was truth in
what she said, and after a silence he said : " I have
been puffed up, I acknowledge with shame and hu-
mility, I, who am but the least in the sight of heaven.
Perhaps, after all, Agnes, I am not fit to think of
filling the holy office. I am magnifying the station
and dishonoring the cause I should guard with care.
284 A GENTLE PIONEER
I'm forgetting that it was said that the last shall be
first. Ah, Agnes, perhaps I'd better not go on."
" ' He that putteth his hand to the plough,' " quoted
Agnes, sternly. " You'd best go on, Archie, and you'll
learn; it's your inexperience. I've no doubt but that
you'll make a good, conscientious minister of the
gospel." She was turning the tables on him with a
vengeance. "When you're older you'll know less, my
mother says, and she says you will have occasion to
learn meekness and lowliness. If you want my friend-
ship, you will certainly have to become less of a brag-
gart, and that right quickly." And Archie's rags of
pride all fell from him.
"I'll remember, Agnes," he said unsteadily, "and
I'll try not to be boastful. If I'd known ye were dis-
pleased, and that it was that has been keeping ye at
your distance "
Agnes interrupted him. " It's not that altogether for
I I must be honest with you. I know I can never
care for you as you want me to ; there's no use in my
pretending."
"Ah, but," Archie's voice was eager enough now, " I
know why, Agnes; it's my foolish boasting that has
turned you from me. I thought to win ye by self-
praise, and I see that it is no way, for what a man is
that shall he appear without words of his. Try me
again, Agnes, and I'll try and conquer the pride and
vainglory that should have no place in my heart. No,
IN ABSENCE 285
I'll not give ye up. I've said that once and for all ; not
till ye marry another man."
Agnes sighed. " Then I think we'll neither of us ever
marry, Archie."
" I'm no' so sure o' that," he returned with more of
his old confidence.
4< We shall see," said Agnes, bound to have the last
word.
Yet, though Archie's companionship after this was
more as Agnes would have had it, and he seemed much
as he had been in the old days, Agnes herself did not
change her attitude, and the lad missed something that
he in vain tried to renew in their relationship. True to
his word, he did not speak of his affection for her, and
if the girl's heart had not been steadfast in its devotion
to the young Virginian, it is quite probable that Archie,
by his unfailing tenderness and thoughtfulness, would
have won her over. He certainly made her summer
days pass more pleasantly, and the two spent many an
hour together on the river, rowing, or Under the trees,
with a book. Many a walk they had through the
woods to Jeanie's, and many a ride they took to church,
so that every one said there was no doubt but that it was
a sure thing that the M 'Cleans would have Agnes
Kennedy for a daughter in good time.
Mrs. Kennedy was a little troubled by these reports,
and told Agnes of them. " I know, mother, that people
will talk. I have told Archie how I feel toward him,
286 A GENTLE PIONEER
and that I am willing to be his friend, but nothing more,
yet he will persist, and says he does not care what the
neighbors say ; that they know more about it than I do.
You would like to see me a minister's wife, wouldn't
you, mother ? " she asked wistfully.
" I do not want my lass to waste her youth in waiting
for one who may never return to her."
" But you bade me trust and be patient."
" Yes, but I had not then had this." She drew forth
a letter and handed it to Agnes. It was from Parker
Willett. After telling of his safe arrival he said that
his mother grew weaker, but the doctors gave hope
that she might live a year. " In view of my protracted
absence," he wrote, " I am sending to my little clearing
a young cousin, whom I commend to your friendly
interest. He is a boy of good character, and desires
much to go to the Western Reserve; this seems an
opportunity which he is very ready to take, and he will
set forth at once." After sending polite messages to
the family he signed himself "Your grateful friend,
Parker Willett." The only mention of Agnes was in
a message which conveyed his remembrances, and the
hope that she was enjoying the books he had left.
Agnes refolded the letter thoughtfully and handed it
back to her mother without a word, but it gave her the
heartache for many a day after.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY
WITH the appearance of young Carter Ritchie, the
neighbors arrived at the decision that Parker
Willett would not return, and that eventually this
cousin of his would take his clearing. Indeed, Carter
himself gave this impression, for it was not long before
he knew the whole country-side, and had taken his
place as a resident. His first visit, after seeking out
Dod Hunter, was to the Kennedys, and though the
questions which Agnes put were few, Carter was not
reticent, and being always glad of listeners, he chatted
on, revealing many things, and not hesitating sometimes
to draw somewhat upon his imagination so that his
stories might be the more effective. He was a bright,
attractive young fellow, nineteen or twenty years of age,
with a fresh, boyish face, pleasant manners, and a soft
Southern voice. He was not slow in finding out the
prettiest girls in the neighborhood, and his gallantries
were soon the cause of many heartburnings.
He greeted the Kennedys as old friends. " Oh, I've
heard about you all from Park," he said, "and I don't
feel a stranger at all. When is Park coming back ? I
287
288 A GENTLE PIONEER
don't know. Never, I reckon ; there are too many
things to keep him at home. He is at Colonel Southall's
every day, and the colonel has two pretty daughters.
Blest if I don't think Nell is prettier than Alicia ; she is
not of your touch-me-not kind, like Alicia, and is always
ready for a good time. The colonel's fond of Park ; he
has no sons, you know, and I shouldn't wonder if Park
found it a good thing to settle down right there ; that is
what everybody thinks he will do." The color which
had dyed Agnes's cheeks a crimson at the hearing of
Parker's name now retreated, and she was very pale.
" Aunt Lucy seems a little better since Parker came,"
Carter went on, "but she can't live very long, a year
maybe at the longest; she's in a consumption, you
know." He talked on, answering questions and giving
information, till the listeners knew more of Parker's
family and his affairs than they had learned in all their
acquaintance with him. " Say, Miss Agnes," the lad
said as he arose to go, " you and I will have real good
times. Park told me he had a boat, and I am in for
rowing or any kind of sport. Do you like to ride ?
Have you a saddle-horse ? Never mind, I can get one,
I reckon." And before she knew it, Agnes found her-
self promising to go riding, boating, walking, or anything
else of the kind that Carter proposed.
" That young man's not goin' to wear out his sowl by
greetin' for his home," said Polly ; " it's aye grist 'at comes
to his mill, an* he'll be dancin', whoever pipes."
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY 289
" He certainly seems to have a flow of spirits," Mrs.
Kennedy agreed.
"An* pleasant manners, an' he's pleasant spoken.
I'll be tachin' him a rale Irish jig before the year's out,
ye'll see. I foretell he'll make friends, but, to my mind,
his cousin Park's more the man. I'd be sorry not to see
him again."
" I think you will," returned Mrs. Kennedy.
The color came back to Agnes's face, and she gave
her mother a grateful look, yet her poor little heart was
very sore. Alicia ! and he had not forgotten ; the old
love was the strongest. If he had never gone back,
perhaps all would have been well, but now he believed
her pledged to Archie, and he would return to his first
love. Why had she so stubbornly allowed him to think
her indifferent to him, and to believe her heart was all
Archie's ? She could scarce keep her thoughts from
straying at family prayers that evening, but when her
father read the parable of the foolish virgins, Agnes
gave a deep sigh and applied it, maiden-like, to her
own case ; it was too late and the door was shut.
But youth, though it is easily dispirited, is also elastic,
and Agnes could not be continually moping. She was
ready to take such pleasures as came to her, and really
enjoyed life, though she had her pensive moments
when she had romantic dreams of dying young, of
touching the heart of her loved one by going into a
decline, but she was too healthily minded and too busy
2QO A GENTLE PIONEER
to allow these thoughts to recur very often. She found
Carter Ritchie good company ; he was so full of fun,
so energetic and buoyant, and likewise so pleasure-
loving that he was ready at any time to leave his
work for a frolic, and at last Archie became possessed
by the demon of jealousy, and glowered upon his sweet-
heart till she brought him to account.
" What do you mean, Archie M' Clean, by looking at
me as if you'd cast an evil eye upon me ? What have
I done that you should glower so ? "
" You're naught but a shallow coquette," said Archie,
blurting out his grievance.
"Have you any claim upon me, Archie M ' Clean ?
Did I not tell you that I could not care for you as you
chose I should ? Have you any right to call me to
account ? "
He confessed he had not, but she had encouraged
him to believe she did care for him in times past, and
he had told her he would not give her up.
"I know you said that, but I have never deceived
you, and I said I would marry you. I said that when I
was but a slip of a girl; but even then I told you it
would be only in case I did not see some one I liked
better, and you were free to do likewise."
Archie's face fell. "Ay, then, if ye have seen some
one, it's all over, and I'd as well take my way to
Canonsburg as soon as I can, but it will be fey with
me when I think o' ye an' that light-headed Ritchie,
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY 291
though I don't want to part in anger, Agnes. We're
friends ? "
"Oh, yes, friends." She wondered suddenly if,
after all, she could let Archie go. If she should never
see Parker again, if it was as Carter had told her, that
he would marry Alicia, what of herself ? " I'd no like to
be an old maid," she told that same self honestly, "and,
after all, who better than Archie ? " As a minister's
wife she could give herself up to doing good, and that
would be a wise and consistent thing to do. She might
not be as happy as she had hoped, but she could make
others happy. She looked up wistfully. "Is it of
young Carter Ritchie you're thinking ? " she asked,
twisting the ends of her handkerchief abstractedly.
" Who else could it be ? He is with ye morn, noon,
and night."
"It is not he more than yourself, Archie. We are
friends as you and I are, and he is content that way ;
we are nothing but comrades." She did not confess
that half the charm of Carter's society lay in the fact
that she liked to hear him talk of his Virginia home
and of his cousins.
Archie's face brightened. " Then ye'll keep the
same way o' thinking and ye're no changed ? "
" I'm not changed this last month if that's what you
mean. I feel the same toward you, Archie, but if
you are going to bring me to task every time I go
walking with another, I can't answer for consequences."
2Q2 A GENTLE PIONEER
" I'll try to be content," said Archie, sighing, and they
parted in peace.
But just about this time came an experience which,
for the time being, put all else out of Agnes's head. It
was Dr. Flint who brought word that matters were
about to culminate in the affair with Hump Muirhead.
Agnes had seldom seen the doctor since the day of
their search for Parker, and she was surprised at his
making his appearance one morning, finding her housing
a hen with a late brood of chickens.
"Ah, Miss Agnes, good morning," he said as he
doffed his cap. "You are the very lady I wished to see."
Agnes put the last chirping, fluffy ball of a chick
under its mother's wings, and arose to her feet. " I
am glad to see you, Dr. Flint. You seldom come
around this way."
" No, my place is so far away from this, you know.
I thought, however, that I'd like to be the first to bring
you the news that we're likely to be rid of Humphrey
Muirhead by this time to-morrow."
" Why, what do you mean ? Has he decided that,
after all, it's best to go peaceably ? "
" Not a bit of it. The boys are going to help him
get away, and he'll not have to walk either."
Agnes began to understand. "They will not do
anything cruel, I hope."
" Well, I have heard that riding on a rail is not the
most comfortable way to travel."
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY 293
" Oh ! " Agnes was horror-stricken, for even though
she knew such practices were not uncommon, she had
never known any one who was so treated.
"The boys concluded," Dr. Flint continued, "that
they had stood about all they were going to from Hump
Muirhead, and they have about settled it that he's got
to go, and that right quick."
" Is there anything new ? Has he done anything
else lately ? "
" Well, no ; but he declares there'll be war if any one
attempts to get him off the place, and that it will take
a few more to dislodge him than the law is likely to
send, and we're about tired of hearing that kind of
talk."
" Oh, but his poor wife and the children Honey and
the rest of them."
" That's so ; it is hard on them, but the innocent must
suffer with the guilty sometimes. The wife will have
to go with her children to her father's till Hump can
get her another home. He's no fool, and he can get
himself a place easy enough ; no fear but that he's
feathered his nest well since he's had this place of
your grandfather's. You see, Miss Agnes, in a coun-
try like this we must some times take the law in our
own hands and use force, for there are such a lot of
outrageous scoundrels that come into a new country,
it's hard waiting for the law to take its course ; half
the time the whole facts can't be known, and justice
294 A GENTLE PIONEER
would never be done. If Hump was given his way,
and if you took the case to the courts, it might be
years before you get your rights. I have known more
than one settler driven from his own property by some
one that defied him to take it, and we don't intend that
shall happen in this case."
Agnes was lost in thought. She was busy forming a
plan. She nodded her head, for all at once it had come
to her what she would do. She smiled as Dr. Flint
stopped speaking. " I am sure it is very kind of you,
Dr. Flint, to come and tell me. I am glad Mrs. Muir-
head can go to her father's house. I suppose I know
very little about such things, but I have no doubt that
you will do what is right in the matter."
" Oh, it isn't I you must look to, for I shall not be
in it."
" I'm rather glad of that." She smiled again, and the
doctor felt flattered. " Won't you come in, doctor ? "
"Well, yes, I will. Miss Agnes, I've never met your
father, and I have a professional curiosity to see him.
I have an idea that I might be able to help him, but
say nothing about it yet," he added hastily, as Agnes
allowed an exclamation of joy to escape her.
" I will take you to him now. He is in the orchard,
or what we call the orchard, for our trees are young
and are not bearing yet. This is the way." She led
him by the path along the slope of the hill to where
the young trees were being tended by Fergus Kennedy.
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY 295
The man looked up with his pleasant, childlike smile as
he saw his daughter approaching. " This is Dr. Flint,
father," said Agnes.
The doctor greeted him cordially, eyeing him keenly
all the while, " Tell me all you can about his hurt ; you
were there, I am told," he said in an aside to Agnes.
She obeyed, answering his rapidly put questions. At
the close of the recital the doctor made a rapid exam-
ination of the healed wound. " A slight pressure still,"
he said. " You say he gets better. The nervous shock
was great, and as time has gone on, and he has had
peaceful and happy surroundings, it has done much
to overcome that condition. I think a very slight
operation could be performed with safety. We will
speak of it later."
" And could you do it ? There would be no danger ? "
" No more than we usually take in such cases, and I
think we might venture to assert there would be none
at all."
" Will you tell mother ? She will be so happy ; it is
the one thing to make her perfectly content ; she misses
father so much."
" I know that. Parker told me ; it was he who first
interested me in the case."
Mr. Kennedy had returned to his work ; he had sub-
mitted patiently to the examination, answering the ques-
tions put him by the doctor, but he took no part in the
conversation that followed. It made him rather unhappy
296 A GENTLE PIONEER
to be an object of attention, for he was dimly conscious
that all was not right, and he whispered to Agnes,
" What is he going to do ? "
" Make you well and happy, dear dad, I hope," Agnes
returned, giving him an affectionate pat.
After a long consultation with Mrs. Kennedy it was
decided that an operation should take place a little later,
and the hope which the promise of it brought gave a
new light to Mrs. Kennedy's eyes. The doctor stayed
to dinner, but shortly after he took his departure, and
then Agnes went to her mother. " I promised Carter
I'd go rowing with him this afternoon," she said. " He
wants to go up the river to one of the islands and have
a little picnic."
Her mother smiled. " You and Carter seem to have
a great many expeditions. What does Archie say ? "
"Archie doesn't like it, but I told him."
" What did you tell him ? "
" That Carter and he were both on the same footing,
both are friends and good comrades, and nothing
more."
"I am not so sure of that," returned her mother.
" Take care, my child, and do not trifle with the affec-
tions of a good man."
" I am not trifling, mother. Do you think I am
wrong to see so much of Carter? He is not in danger
of heartbreak, I can assure you, though sometimes he
plays at making love. Do you think I am wrong ? "
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY 297
" Not if, in the end, it makes neither him nor Archie
unhappy. Run along now, and take your outing."
Agnes was eager in her greeting of Carter when he
met her on the river bank. "See here, Carter," she
said, " I'm going to tell you a secret, because I want
your help. Will you promise on your honor as a gentle-
man not to divulge it to a living soul ? "
"I promise," he returned, his hand on his heart, "if
thereby I can serve a lady."
" Well, it is this," and she told him of the plan regard-
ing Humphrey Muirhead. " Now, then, what I mean
to do is to go and warn him. No, wait a minute ; I
don't mean to say he doesn't deserve it, and that he is
not a hard, bad man, but then there is his poor little
wife, who, I think, really loves him, and I want to
spare her."
Carter considered the subject. "Yes, I think she
ought to be spared, if possible," he decided.
" And so I am going to ask you to go there with me ;
it is not very far, once we are across the river, and we
can easily walk it. You know the place is between
Dod Hunter's and where you live."
" I know well enough where it is."
" And you'll go with me ? "
" Most certainly."
" We'll have to give up our trip to the island, but we
can go another time. I didn't tell mother for I didn't
have a chance, and besides it is better that she should
298 , A GENTLE PIONEER
not know just yet. I knew I could trust you, Carter.
I don't believe any one else would have the same chiv-
alric spirit."
Carter's face beamed. " Well, you know where ladies
are concerned "
" Of course that's it ; any one else would have said,
1 Don't fash yersel' aboot the women folk.' "
Carter laughed. Agnes never spoke so broadly as
the others in the neighborhood, for her mother did not,
though of Scotch descent, but her imitation was per-
fect. He helped her into the boat and they rowed
swiftly across stream. They immediately set out for the
Muirhead place, and were not very long in reaching it.
Mrs. Muirhead met them with her usual frightened
manner, but she smiled shyly as she saw who it was.
Yes, Hump was over in the far clearing ; he had Honey
with him ; she'd send one of the children after him.
Agnes looked at Carter. " I think maybe we'd
better go and find him. We'll come back this way,
Mrs. Muirhead."
They followed her directions, and found Humphrey
busy at work digging out the stumps from a bit of
ground, Honey established near him and chattering
away in his baby fashion.
Agnes walked straight up to her uncle. " You didn't
expect to see me, Mr. Muirhead, I know," she began.
He turned a scornful look upon her. "And what do
you want ? " he growled.
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY 299
" I want to tell you that I have come into possession
of a piece of information which directly concerns you,
and that I have come to warn you. A number of men
are coming here to-night to tar and feather you and ride
you on a rail out of the settlement, and if they do not
find you to-night, it will be some other night ; they are
in earnest, and there are too many of them for you to
defy."
"And you're here to tell me this so that I can git
out ? " He laughed mockingly. " That's a fine scheme
of yours, but it won't work."
" But it is true." Agnes was discouraged by this
way of treating her facts.
" So you say. I've had folks try to skeer me before,
but it don't do. Here I stop and there's nobody can
budge me."
"Ah, but oh, tell him Carter."
" I assure you, sir," said Carter, in a rage that any one
should dare to doubt a lady's word, " I assure you that
what Miss Kennedy says is strictly true. I can vouch
for her word."
" And who are you that I should believe you either ?"
Carter's hand flew to his pistols. " I am a Virginian,
and a gentleman. You shall answer to me for your in-
sults, sir. Miss Kennedy, I insist that you retire. No
further speech is necessary with this
" Stop a minute, Carter," Agnes interrupted him. " I
did not expect to be met with courtesy. I told you that.
300 A GENTLE PIONEER
It is not for your sake, Humphrey Muirhead, that I tell
you this ; I have taken the trouble to come here for
Honey's sake and for your wife's." She laid her hand
on the child's head, " And I swear to you by the affec-
tion I have for this dear, innocent child, that what I say
is absolutely true. I know that we will profit by your
going, but you will have to go sometime if not to-morrow
or a week from now you know that."
" I don't know it," returned Humphrey, grimly.
" You'll be put out if you don't get out," put in Carter,
hastily. " There are enough men about here to accom-
plish it without much trouble."
" Some of 'em will never try it agin," persisted Hum-
phrey. " I've held out against the Injuns, and I
guess I kin hold out against white men by force of
arms."
" O dear ! he is hopeless," cried Agnes. " What can
I do to make him see his danger ? "
" Don't try," said Carter, curtly.
" But I must. He may defy the law, and he may
commit murder, but it will be worse for him in the end.
Can't you see that ? Oh, you foolish, foolish man, can't
you see that it will be worse for you if you stay ? What
if you do succeed for a time in keeping away these men,
you cannot do it for long, and your days will be miser-
able, for you will be watched and hunted till you have to
give up at last. And if you commit murder in trying
to prevent attack, you will have to suffer a double pen-
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY 301
alty, that which they intend for you now and that which
the law metes out to a murderer. Oh, can't you see ? "
Agnes spoke in an imploring voice, but seemed to make
no impression upon Humphrey. She clasped Honey in
her arms. " Honey, Honey, oh, dear little lad, tell your
father that it is all true ! Ask him for your sake say
it Honey, say, ' Dad, for Honey's sake.' '
" Dad, for Honey's sake," obediently repeated the
child, in his little persuasive voice.
The man's eyes sought the face of his little son, and
he stood looking gloomily toward the pair, Agnes kneel-
ing there with her arms around Honey.
A long silence ensued, at last broken by Humphrey.
" I believe ye, girl. I don't see why ye did it, unless
because of the young un there, but I reckon you're right,
and it's all up with me. Maybe I ought to thank ye,
but I feel more like " he paused really abashed by
the expression on Carter's face, for the boy was glaring
at him like a tiger. "This is the last ye'll see of
Honey," he added half maliciously.
Agnes gathered the little one close to her. " Good-
by, and God bless you, dear little lad. I hope you will
grow up to be a good man, Honey. You will forget all
about your Nanny, but she will never forget you.
Come, Carter." She made no further appeal to the
man standing there, and but once looked back after she
and Carter turned to go. She saw that he had gathered
the child into his arms and his head was bent upon that
302 A GENTLE PIONEER
of his little son. A real compassion for him filled
Agnes's heart. " I can't help feeling sorry," she
murmured.
"Sorry for that brute? I'd like to have called the
coward out," cried Carter. " The idea of his daring to
address a lady in such fashion. If you had not re-
strained me, Agnes "
" You would have fought him then and there. Yes, I
know, and have given your mother cause to mourn the
loss of a son more chivalrous than discreet. I thank
you for your knightly intention, Sir Carter, but I think,
in this instance, discretion was the better part of valor,
don't you ? "
" Agnes, if any one were to present you to my mother,
and tell her that you were a backwoods girl, she would
scarce believe it."
" She would not, and why ? "
" Not because there are not some here worthy of
being called gentle, but it isn't the usual type ; you are
more like my own people, like gentlefolk."
"And are there, then, no gentlefolk among the Scotch-
Irish ? "
" Many, no doubt, but they lose their manners when
they are let loose in the wilderness. I do not know
what they have been at home, but they certainly are a
rough lot out here."
" Not all, I hope."
" Surely not all, for look at your mother ; but on the
THE OVERTHROW OF HUMPHREY 303
other hand, look at Polly O'Neill, and Tibby McKnight,
and Mydie McShane."
" Oh, if you take them for examples, it may be true
that there is an excuse for you to criticise, yet we're all
one out here, and you'll be counted in with Humphrey
Muirhead and Jimmy O'Neill yourself one of these
days," she told him, teasingly. She was happy now
that she had succeeded in her errand, and could afford
to joke.
CHAPTER XIX
DR. FLINT
IT was a few days later that Dr. Flint appeared
again. In the meantime Agnes had been aware
of a midnight expedition, in which Jimmy O'Neill had
taken part, and from which he had returned the next
morning in as bad a humor as Jimmy could be in.
Agnes heard his answer to a whisper from Polly, " Cleared
out," he said, and the girl knew to whom he referred.
After breakfast, Dr. Flint came riding up. He and
Jimmy had a conference down at the blacksmith shop,
and after leaving his hor^e there the doctor made his
way up to the house where Agnes met him.
" Well, Miss Agnes, I think you'll be moving across
the river before long," was the doctor's greeting.
A smile flashed across Agnes's face. The doctor
laughed. " Oh, you little marplot," he said, lowering
his voice, "it was you who spoiled our little game, I
know, though nobody but myself suspects. Our bird
has flown, and I think I could put my finger on the
one who gave the warning. I think we have to thank
Miss Agnes Kennedy for a part in that transaction.
Didn't you tell?"
" Suppose I did ; it was a better way to get rid of
304
DR. FLINT 305
him than the other, though but for knowing your inten-
tion I suppose he would have still held out."
"Well, he's off for good and all. He must have
skurried things together in a hasty fashion, for the
house is cleared of anything valuable, and there's not a
head of live stock left on the place. He'd no right to
the cattle ; but he'd not stand at that, and I suppose
would have taken the house if he could have carried it ;
it is a wonder he didn't set fire to it."
" I suppose he thought if he did that it would bring
discovery upon him, and prevent his getting away as
secretly as he wished."
"You are right there; it is strange how a woman
will instinctively penetrate into a motive. What time
were you there ? "
" How do you know I was there at all ? "
" Oh, I know, but never mind; it's of no consequence
now. How is your father ? "
" About as usual."
" We'll see to him when you get moved and settled.
I would like to have a word with your mother if she's
not busy."
Agnes ushered him in, and went to call her mother,
rejoicing in the fact that there had been neither blood-
shed nor cruelty necessary for the overthrow of Hum-
phrey Muirhead, and that they could take peaceable
possession of their own with no distressing associations
to mar the pleasure of the removal.
306 A GENTLE PIONEER
A few days after this she learned from Carter that
Humphrey had loaded several pack-horses, gathered his
stock together, and had started through the woods to a
lonely spot where he encamped. He next looked about
for a flat-boat, and securing one from a newly arrived
settler farther up the river, he set out for Kentucky,
where his wife's family lived, and so no more was heard
of him. : (
" How did you find it all out ? " Agnes asked.
" Oh, everybody knows now. The man he bought
the flat-boat from told Si Fulton, and Si told somebody
else, and so it got around. I am just waiting now,
Agnes, for the day when you will be next-door neigh-
bors. When are you going to move in ? "
" Oh, soon. Uncle Dod has been over to see us, and
he says there will be no difficulty in our taking posses-
sion as soon as we want to. Jimmy O'Neill has always
wanted to have this place, and it was settled long ago
that he would buy it when we gave it up. I am glad
he and Polly are going to keep on living here, for I
love it." She looked around pensively, and her eyes
lingered upon each homely detail.
" It's a nice little place, but it doesn't compare to the
other. What's to be done before you can come over ?
Can't I help so as to hurry up things a little ? "
" I think you have enough to do as it is."
" Oh, no, I haven't. I am simply holding on till
Park comes back or gives it up; I am not trying to
DR. FLINT 307
do more than live there. What's to be done at your
grandfather's place ? "
"The house is to be whitewashed and cleaned, and
things straightened up generally. I don't know of
anything in particular. I think we may go next week ;
mother is anxious to get settled." She gave a little
sigh. After all, this realization of her dream did not
bring the pleasure of anticipation ; it would be strangely
unfamiliar, and there would be no happy associations
connected with that house across the river. It would
be farther away from church, and from Jeanie; and
Agnes realized as she never did before that there
would be a real tearing up of the roots when it came
time to go.
" Are you going to have a housewarming ? " asked
Carter, eager for fun.
Agnes shook her head. " Not now ; after a while,
maybe."
" But doesn't every one have them when they first
move in ? "
" We will not, for it is neither a new house nor are
we newcomers. We are anxious to get settled and
have everything as quiet as possible for father, and
when he is better we shall feel like having a jollifica-
tion."
" I had a letter from Park yesterday," said Carter,
taking a folded sheet from out his hunting-shirt
" What does he say ? " Agnes asked, her heart beat-
308 A GENTLE PIONEER
ing high at sight of the familiar writing. "Is he
coming back ? "
" He doesn't say anything about it. His mother is
failing rapidly. He gave me some directions about
the place, and told me some home news; he sent his
respects to all. Oh, yes," Carter's eyes scanned the
sheet, " he wants to know if you are married yet."
" What did you tell him ? " Agnes asked eagerly.
Carter laughed. " I haven't told him anything yet.
You didn't suppose I'd write within twenty-four hours,
did you?"
Agnes colored up. " Oh, no, of course not. I didn't
think."
" But I know what I shall tell him," said Carter, teas-
ingly.
"What?"
" That you're going to be."
"Oh, you must not. Don't you dare to, Carter
Ritchie. What is it, Margret?"
" Mother wants you a moment," answered the little
girl.
"Then you'll have to stay out here and talk to me,
Margret," said Carter; "I'm not going to be left
alone."
Margret gave him a shy glance. She was a pretty
little girl, now about thirteen years of age, a demure
quiet body, but possessed of a steadiness and force that
did not at first appear. No one could manage and en-
DR. FLINT 309
tertain the children as Margret did. Carter coaxed her
to come out and sit by him while Agnes went indoors,
and when the latter came out she found the two on the
best of terms. Carter was telling about the place across
the river. " I'll about live at your house," he announced
to Agnes. " I wish you'd hurry up and come."
There seemed to be a great deal to be crowded into
the next few weeks, for first Archie started for Canons-
burg, and then came preparations for the removing.
Many a trip did Carter and Agnes make with coops of
chickens balanced on the little boat, or family stuffs of
different kinds stowed away as best they could be, and
then came the day when the last good-bys were said,
and Polly running over with tears fell on their necks
and mourned the departure.
" I'll be sore weary for ye, Nancy," she said ; " ye've
been like me ain sister, an' we've been togither through
thick an' thin this manny's the long day now, an' I'll
no have a song on me lips for a dale o' morrows. I
beeta come over often, an' no doubt I'll be neglectin' me
work an' me bairns, I'll be sae sore for a sight o' ye."
" Dear Polly," Agnes returned, the tears in her own
eyes. " I'll miss you, too, Polly, and I shall come over
often. Ah, Polly, I'm no glad to be going. As the
song says, ' Manny a canty day we've had wi' ane
anither.' " The tears rolled down the girl's cheeks,
but Sandy and Jock and Jessie, and even Margret, were
eager for the change, and were back and forth a dozen
3IO A GENTLE PIONEER
times before they crossed the river for good and all.
Agnes was the last to leave. She lingered around as
if she could not say farewell. The homely spot was
crowded with associations, and not till now did she
know how much she loved it.
But at last she gave Polly and the children a parting
hug, and sprang into the boat which Sandy had brought
over, having delivered his other passengers, and the last
sight of Polly showed the good woman standing with
her apron to her eyes.
It seemed quite palatial in their new home with its
big rooms, now fresh and clean. Here and there could
be seen from the house reaches of cleared land, and the
forest seemed to recede to a great distance from the
house, though a few tall trees were left for shade ; but
after the small cabin they had been living in, with its
girdle of forest trees so near, this gave the impression
of much more room both outside and in.
" Isn't it big and fine ? " said Jessie. " Oh, what a big
fireplace, and real steps, not a ladder to go upstairs,"
and eager feet were soon patting all over the house,
Sandy and Jack meanwhile exploring the whole place,
the comfortable barn, the cow-shed now housing two
new cows, the garden, the corn-field where pumpkins
were yellowing, and the truck patch where a few pota-
toes and turnips awaited gathering. It is true that
Humphrey had been careful to possess himself of all
fruits of his labor that time would allow him to get to-
DR. FLINT 311
gether, and had destroyed some things which might
have been of use, but his time was short, and there were
still apples reddening in the sun and a haymow un-
touched.
Mrs. Kennedy stood at the door looking out. Her
face was very sad. From this spot her father had gone
forth to captivity and death ; all this fair homestead
had been his, and he had hoped to live here to a good
old age. Agnes linked her arm within her mother's.
" How do you like it, mother dear ? Is it not a pleasant
spot ? It is home for the rest of our lives."
" For the rest of my life and for yours, too, perhaps.
Does your father seem satisfied ? I have not seen him
for the past hour ; I have been so busy setting things
to rights."
" He is with the boys and they are exploring every
corner. Father understands that this is home ; in some
way he connected it with East Pennsborough and asks
such funny questions : Who cut down the butternut tree
by the spring ? and what has become of old Whitey ?
He is a little bewildered yet, but he will be very con-
tent, I am sure."
Her mother sighed. " He seems like a son rather
than a husband. I miss him, oh, I miss him as he was.
Those old endearing words, those little speeches of
appreciation that a woman loves, never come to his
lips now. He was always such a loving husband."
" But he loves you now."
312 A GENTLE PIONEER
" As a child would. He likes to sit by my side, to
have me minister to him, to have me tell him what
to do, ^o unravel the puzzles that confront him so
often, but that is all."
Agnes understood. What her mother said was quite
true. " But, mother, listen," she said cheerfully, " now
Dr. Flint can come ; you know he said it would be best
to wait till we could be where father could have more
quiet, and now we shall not have dear old noisy Polly,
nor Jimmy, nor the bairns. I will tell you how we will
manage : Margret can help me, and Jessie can look
after Fergus, he is old enough now to know he must
not make a noise if he is told to keep still, and the boys
can do the outdoor work. I can do what needs to be
done indoors, and that will leave you to nurse father."
Her mother gave a little convulsive shudder.
" I know," Agnes went on, " I feel so too ; but Dr.
Flint says he can assure us that the chances are very
good, and oh, if it should be all right, the joy of it ! "
" Ay, the joy of it ! That is what will bear us up.
I hope we can have confidence in Dr. Flint ; he is looked
on suspiciously by some of the neighbors."
" Yes, that is true, but I do not think for any good
reason. There come father and the boys."
" Bid them come in to supper."
It was in September that the family took possession
of their new home, and a couple of weeks later Dr.
Flint came and took up his abode with them till he
DR. FLINT 313
should see Mr. Kennedy safely through the critical
ordeal. The dwellers in the settlement generally stood
aloof from this man, not because of his unfortunate
record or because of the fatal incident that came so
near losing him his life, but these Scotch-Irish were a
God-fearing folk, and were fond of expressing their
views upon portions of the Scripture, and were wont
to discuss religion upon every occasion. Henry Flint
never joined in these discussions; he never went to
church, and it was believed that he was sceptical of
those things which were as real to the sturdy believers
of Presbyterian faith as was the fact of their own
existence. It was said that he read books which at
that time were spoken of only with bated breath.
" He's amaist an atheist, I hear," whispered one neigh-
bor to another, and therefore there were those who
shook their heads when it was known that he would
try his skill upon Fergus Kennedy.
For days the children tiptoed about the house when
they were allowed in it at all. On pleasant days Jessie
took Fergus out where Sandy and Jock could watch
over both little ones, and on rainy days the barn was
their shelter. Margret helped Agnes indoors, and
over her husband Mrs. Kennedy kept watch night and
day, sharing her vigil, at first, only with the doctor.
Later on good neighbors were prompt to offer their aid,
Mrs. M'Clean, Jeanie, or Dod Hunter's wife. Carter
made his appearance every day with proffers of help.
314 A GENTLE PIONEER
Jerry Hunter and Jimmy O'Neill directed the two lads,
who were trying to do the work of men on the farm,
and many a good day's work did this or that neighbor
do for them.
Polly, striving desperately to moderate her tones, came
very often, and stealthily carried off piles of thread to
be woven, or rolls of cloth to be dyed. She would do
her part even though a place by the bedside was denied
her. She was a good nurse, and Agnes was afraid she
might feel hurt at their refusal of her offers of assist-
ance, but that was not like Polly ; she was quite as
honest to herself as she was to others. " It's the wife's
right," she acknowledged, " an' I've a heavy tread, an'
am no so soft-voiced as some, an' it's quiet he's wantin',
they say. I mind it's aye that way when there's aught
wrong with the head." She spoke to Agnes.
" That is the important thing ; absolute quiet," the
girl replied, half apologetically. " We have to walk on
tiptoe, and Margret and I scarce speak above a whisper
when we're working about."
" An' will he have his wits agin ?"
" We hope so, oh, we hope so."
" Yer mother's growin' pale wid the watchin', an'
ye're thin yersel', Nancy, wi' the hard wark ye've
had."
" Never mind me. I am well, but it's hard for mother,
who is not used to being housed."
Polly gave a sigh. " I miss ye all, Nancy, an' though
DR. FLINT 315
I don't begrutch ye comin' to yer ain, I'm wishful fur
ye ivery morn that comes. Do ye mind how I used to
stir ye up wi a stick o' mornin's when ye would over-
slape ? Ah," Polly shook her head, " them was good
times we had togither. Ye've not set fut on the place
sin' ye lef it."
" How could I, Polly, with so much to do ? "
" Ye could not, fur a fact ; it's the truth ye're tellin',
fur ye don't get to meetin' o' Sabbaths."
" No, but the minister has been here several times,
and every one is so kind."
" Why wouldn't they be ? Was ye iver* any thin' else
but kind yersel' ? I tell ye, though, the men were all
cross-eyed wid mad, an' grumpy as bears whin they
come back from huntin' Hump Muirhead. They beeta
say that ye was a blessed lass fur returnin' good fur
evil, an' they says, Jimmy tells me, that ye put them
all to shame by gettin' him to go, along o' yer gentle
coaxin's an' pleadin's."
" How could they know that ? "
"Can ye see through a millstone wid a hole in it?
They beeta know, fur they puts this and that together,
an' gets a. holt o' it."
" It was Carter that told, I do believe."
" If he did, it was no till the settlemint was shet o'
Hump, an' then he couldn't houd his blather. He said
ye'd made him give a promise not to tell, but that it was
no saycret an' why should he thry to kape what was
316 A GENTLE PIONEER
common property ? He's a great wan to talk, is Carter,
an' he sang yer praises to the tune av half an hour at
the shop, that I know. So be, Nancy, as ye know it's
no saycret anny longer, jist tell me the rights av it."
And Agnes gave an account of her interview with her
uncle, Polly making her comments freely.
"Carter's a gintleman," she declared, "an' I'll give
him a good thwack whin I see him, for he niver told
me his part. He was fair achin' fur a fight, I can see."
Polly spoke in tones of admiration. " Nothin' would
ha' plazed me better than to know he gave Hump a
good lambastin'."
" Imagine Carter trying to whip Hump Muirhead."
" It's not always the big dog that wins the fight."
" Yes, but I am very glad it did not come out so. I
think the best part was that Carter would do nothing
belligerent on my account. Well, Polly, it is all done
with now, and we are safely here under our own roof."
" Have ye heerd from Archie ? "
" Not a line."
Polly laughed. " I've a notion ye'll not."
" And why ? " Agnes was a little offended.
" We hear enough," was Polly's reply, given with an
air of mystery. She put her hand over her mouth to
check the laugh that would come, and at the same time
she cast an anxious glance at the windows of Mrs. Ken-
nedy's room.
" Now, Polly, tell me what you mean."
DR. FLINT 317
"Go 'long wid ye; I'll have me saycrits, too; ye've
had yours, an' have no call to expect me to tell ye."
With this Agnes had to be satisfied. She parted
with Polly at the gate where they had been standing,
and promised, as soon as she could, that she would
certainly come over to see her old friend.
"I've said the thing that'll fetch her," said Polly,
chuckling to herself as she went on toward home.
In truth, Polly had succeeded in arousing the girl's
curiosity, for the first question that she asked Jeanie
when the two met was, " Have you heard from Archie
lately ? "
"Yes," said Jeanie, hesitatingly and with a quick,
embarrassed glance at Agnes.
" And is he doing well ? Does he like Canonsburg ? "
"Yes;" then after a pause, "you haven't heard from
him, Agnes?"
" Not a line."
Jeanie looked thoughtful. " You still insist that you
do not care for Archie except as a friend ? Is that so,
Nancy ? Did you keep to that when Archie left ? "
" Yes, and I still say so."
" Do you like Carter Ritchie ? "
" Oh, very much. We are good friends, too."
" He is very fond of gallanting around with the
girls "
" Yes, and I think it is perfectly natural. There is
safety in numbers, I tell him."
318 A GENTLE PIONEER
" Then you don't mind ? "
" Oh, no."
" Would you mind if Archie did ? "
" Did what ? Gallanted around with the girls ? It
isn't his way, but if he did I should think I mean if
he were attentive to any one lass, I should think it
meant something serious."
Jeanie laughed a little consciously. " It is strange
what gossiping nonsense one hears. I don't listen to
it all, do you, Nancy ? "
" Why, I suppose I listen, but I don't heed it always.
What tale have you been hearing, Jeanie ? "
" Oh, nothing of any consequence. Tell me of your
father, Nancy."
"He is steadily improving ; the bandages are to be
taken off to-morrow. There is no fever now, and the
doctor thinks there is no further cause for anxiety ; but
he will not let father talk, and we cannot tell how far
the trial has been successful."
" That is very good as far as it goes. Would you
like me to stay and help to-night ? "
" No, thank you ; there is no need. He sleeps well
now, and Mrs. Hunter will be here."
" Then I will go back to my man. Come and see me
as soon as you can. Every one is rejoicing that you are
so well settled."
Agnes puzzled over the mystery which seemed to
have arisen in Archie's quarter ; but she was too busy
DR. FLINT 319
to think very long upon it, and told herself that she
could afford to wait till some one should tell her what
it all meant.
The next day the bandages were removed, and for
some days after the patient was kept very quiet and not
allowed to talk much, but his eyes followed his wife
as she moved about the room. There was a new ex-
pression of intelligence in them which the doctor was
quick to note. It was one morning at early dawn that
he said weakly, " Margaret."
Mrs. Kennedy came to the bedside and looked lov-
ingly into the pale face. " Fergus, my man," she said
softly.
" Margaret, Margaret, my ain han's morrow, my ain
han's morrow," he said weakly, putting out his fingers
to seek her hand. And then the wife sank on her knees
and brokenly sobbed out her full heart in a psalm of
praise, " I will bless the Lord at all times ; his praise
shall continually be in my mouth." The sick man took
up the words and followed her faintly, " This poor man
cried and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of his
troubles."
Dr. Flint stood with bowed head listening. There
was something that touched him to the very core of
his being in this renewed union of husband and wife.
There was a look of exaltation on the woman's face,
and the man clasping her hand bent on her eyes full
of trustful love. They seemed to forget him ; they were
320 A GENTLE PIONEER
together in the presence of a higher power, which at
that moment it seemed impossible to ignore or to dis-
trust, and he, the man who doubted, who had told him-
self that there was no all-guiding hand, followed the
.words of the faithful as they poured them forth in
the Presence, and at the end he said devoutly,
"Amen."
CHAPTER XX
HER HEART'S DESIRE
IT was, of course, weeks before Fergus Kennedy
could take his place among his fellow-men; there
was still need for quiet, and he was spared much ex-
citement, so that only at intervals were his friends
allowed to see him. Joseph M'Clean, the minister,
Jimmy O'Neill, one by one were admitted to the sick
room, and at last it was permitted that the restored
man should be allowed to go to church ; it was the
thing he most desired to do. All around the settlement
the news had flown : Fergus Kennedy has his wits
again, and the little log structure was crowded to over-
flowing that Sabbath. It was the thirty-fourth psalm
which was lined out from Rouse's version, the same
psalm that had come from the full heart of the wife
who desired to give thanks. It was a simple and
touching service, but to none more so than to Henry
Flint, who sat for the first time under the roof of the
little log church. He was scarcely less observed than
Fergus Kennedy, at whose side he sat, and when the
names of those who desired to unite with the church by
letter or by profession of faith were read out, there was
Y 321
322 A GENTLE PIONEER
a perceptible stir among the congregation when Henry
Flint's was spoken. No one knew the man's intention
except Mrs. Kennedy and the minister himself. " It
was a good woman's prayers, her beautiful faith and
trust, which I had daily evidence of, that at last brought
me light," said the doctor to the minister, and the good
man returned, " Ay, many a puir soul has been brought
home by the gentle leadings of a woman, Dr. Flint."
It was such great joy to see her father regaining his
old interest in life, and to see her mother so beaming of
countenance and light of heart that it seemed to Agnes
as if it would be ungrateful in her to consider that she
had any trouble. Time did not dim the image of
Parker, and there were days when the girl would go
out into the deep woods, and, throwing herself prone
on the ground, would weep her heart out. This was
generally after news from home came to Carter, such
news as he was quick to retail to the Kennedys, at
whose house he was a daily visitor. Every one liked
Carter, and his sunny presence was cheering to Agnes.
She dreaded, yet longed to know of those letters from
Virginia; they always brought news of Parker, and
generally it was told that every one wondered if he
would marry Alicia Southall. She had a string of
beaux, Carter's sister wrote, and no one could tell
whom she favored, though it was a well-known fact
that she had taken pains to lure Parker into rejoining
her train.
HER HEART'S DESIRE 323
Agnes remembered the pencil-sketch, and wondered
if Parker regretted its destruction. She inwardly
exulted that he did not possess it. " She cannot rob
me of those precious hours," sighed the girl, "even
though I am a maiden lorn the rest of my life."
These thoughts were uppermost as she took her way
one spring day to the river's brink to go over to Polly.
She had never returned to the place now known as
O'Neill's clearing, and Polly chid her for her neglect.
"You must go," her mother said; "it is not treating
Polly kindly. Come, dear, it will do you good ; the
winter is over and there is no longer any excuse. You
are looking a little doucy." She drew her close and
kissed her. " Is it still the old hurt, dear heart ? "
Agnes gave a sigh. " I try, but I cannot forget, and
the crumbs of comfort that a little message sometimes
brings me has been denied of late, for it is a long time
since Carter has heard from his cousin, and it will soon
be a year, a year in June since he went away."
" Wait patiently on the Lord and he will give thee
thy heart's desire," said her mother.
" My heart's desire. Oh, mother, if I could believe
that ! "
" If it is well for you to have it, and if you have faith,
it will be yours."
"Ah, mother dear, I wish I had your faith and trust."
" See what God has wrought for us in your father's
case. Ah, daughter, when I think of that, I am uplifted
324 A GENTLE PIONEER
on the very heights of faith. Go on, dear lamb, and do
not be cast down. Give my love to Polly."
Agnes started on and was soon turning her steps
toward familiar paths. From Jimmy's blacksmith shop
came the sound of the hammer ringing on the anvil ;
from farther on came the laughter of children and
Polly's singing. Agnes stood still a moment and
looked around. How natural it did seem to be stand-
ing there on the hilltop looking toward the little cabin.
Would she ever forget that morning when she and
Polly had frolicked over the dye-kettle ? She had not
been so care-free since. Down the hill she slowly
walked, and when within a few rods of the house
Polly caught sight of her.
" Ay, ye're come at last," she cried. " I'd fain have ye
to know that I've a mind not to speak to ye. Bairns,
here's Nancy at last. Ah, ye little rid-headed bawbee,
I've a mind to shake ye for stayin' away all this while,
an' me wid me tongue achin' with the gossip 'ats ready
to rin from it. But I says to mesel', I'll niver tell
Nancy, not I, if I niver go to see her; not till she
comes to see her auld frind will she hear it."
" What gossip, Polly ? "
" Then ye've not heerd ? Good luck, I say." Polly
lifted her hands and brought them down on her knees
as she sat down on a three-legged stool which she
dragged forward. " Befoor I'd let a widdy woman cut
me out ! "
HER HEART'S DESIRE 325
"What do you mean, Polly?"
Polly rocked herself back and forth in silent mirth.
" It's all over the settlemint how Archie M'Clean's at
the beck an' call o' a rich widdy from Pittsburg. His
grandf ether's deid, did ye hear that?"
"Yes, I did hear that."
" An* lef ' Archie the half his estate, bein' so pleased
at his takin' to the meenistry, an' Archie comin' back
from Carlisle after the funeral meets the widdy, an' she
sets her cap fur him from the start, so the first thing the
lad knows he's well in the meshes. They say she's no
so ill favored, an' that there's sure to be a weddin* when
Archie gets his Reverend tacked on. The M' Cleans
were ill pleased at first, but they are all but satisfied
now, for though one can't call them near, they're canny,
an' Archie no less so than his father. ' It's the fat pig
ay' gets the maist grease,' an' so, Nancy, what do ye
think o' me dish o' gossip ? Didn't I promise ye fair ? "
" You did, Polly. I am glad and sorry ; one doesn't
like to lose a lover, though he be not the one who has
won one's heart. I'd never have thought Archie would
be leaving me to wear the willow."
" It'll be no willow you wear. Where's Carter
Ritchie ? "
" Carter ! " Agnes spoke in a tone of contempt.
"Why, Polly, he's but a boy."
" Where do ye get yer full-grown men ? He's six f ut
if he's an inch."
326 A GENTLE PIONEER
"Ah, but that's all foolishness, Polly. I wonder
Jeanie has not told me of this."
" She's nane too ready to believe it. She thinks it
will all blow over and that Archie will be comin' back to
ye, an* she'll say no word to ye aboot it. But I had it
from Jimmy who had it from a man jist from Canons-
burg. They say Archie an' the widdy will no jine in the
bonds o' matrimony till he's ready for his blacks, but
that there's no doubt she's the tight holt o' him. Weel,
let him go. Ye' 11 not fret, lass ? " Polly suddenly be-
came anxious at sight of Agnes's sober face.
" I'll not be frettin' at loss of Archie, but I hope he'll
get a good wife."
" Ay, there's naught agin her as I can 1'arn. She's
a bit older, but has winnin' ways, I'm told, an' is a buxom,
black-eyed body. Maybe when he's out o' reach o' her
spell, he'll be turnin' to ye again as Jeanie is hopin' he'll
do."
Agnes gave her head a toss. " I'd not have him,
Polly ; he'd never have won me unless by his constancy
and perseverance. Don't fash yourself about me ; I'll
have no heartbreak over Archie M 'Clean."
" I would ha' told annybody that long ago," said
Polly, knowingly. " Ye'll bide an' have a sup wid
us?"
" Yes, but I must get home before dark. Sandy will
meet me the other side at sundown."
" An' yer father's improvin' ? "
HER HEARTS DESIRE 327
" Yes, and is enjoying the farm and the children and
it's all coming right."
After more exchanging of news, none of which was
of half the interest to the two as that which related to
Archie, Agnes helped Polly with the supper, then Jimmy
came in and chaffed the girl about letting her chances slip
and letting a widow cut her out, making his clumsy jokes
and laughing loudly at them himself till Agnes arose to go.
She acknowledged to herself as she climbed the hill
that she felt a little sore over Archie's disaffection ; if
he had proved inconstant, where could she look for sta-
bility ? But there was too much here to remind her of
happier days, and she repeated softly : " Thy heart's
desire; He will give thee thy heart's desire." At
the top of the hill she stood still and looked back,
then she turned toward the river bank. As she
came out of the shadows of the trees and glanced down
at the sands where her boat lay, she saw that some one
else had moored a boat alongside her own. " It must
be Carter," she said; "he has come over instead of
Sandy, for that looks like his boat ; I'll just wait here
for him." She leaned against a tree, waiting till he
should come up, and in a moment she heard the spring-
ing step of some one climbing the steep path, and then
a glad voice said, " Agnes ! "
Her heart stood still. She held out two trembling
hands which were closely clasped in Parker's warm
grasp. " Agnes," he said. " Look at me, little girl, I
328 A GENTLE PIONEER
want to see those honest blue eyes. Are you glad to
see me ? "
" Very glad. When did you come ? "
" This morning; and as soon as I could I went to call
on my neighbors, but I found one missing. They told
me where I should find you. And you are not married ?
I heard you were going to be."
''Carter told you that."
" Yes. Is it true ? "
" No, it is not true. I heard the same report of you.
Is that true ? "
" I don't know whether it is or not."
Agnes's eyes fell, and she drew away her hands.
" Have you heard ? " Parker said gravely. " Did you
know that my dear mother is at peace ? "
" No, I had not heard. I am so sorry for you, but it
must have been a comfort to know that you could be
with her all these last months of her life."
" It was my comfort and hers, too, I think."
There was silence for a moment. The girl's brain
was in a whirl. He was glad to see her, but ah, if he
were to be married, she must not show him how glad she
was. " I have just heard a piece of news," she said at last.
" Yes ? I hope it is good news. Where did you
learn it ? "
" From Polly. You know the blacksmith's shop is
only second to the store in being a place for choice bits
of gossip."
HER HEART'S DESIRE 329
" And your news ? "
"I heard that Archie M'Clean is to marry a rich
widow of Pittsburg."
Parker started forward and grasped Agnes's hands
again. " Then you are not going to marry him ? "
" I cannot very well, it seems," she laughed lightly.
" Oh, don't be afraid for me, Mr. Willet ; I am not heart-
broken, nor even unhappy ! "
" I am glad of that, yet "
" I did not intend to marry him. I never intended
to."
"Yet you told me "
"What did I tell you?"
" That you had promised."
" With a proviso."
" Yes, and it was that if neither saw any one more
likable ah, I see, you have found some one more
likable, and so it does not trouble you. Ah, I see."
He dropped her hands. " But you said you were not
going to be married, then perhaps it is not settled yet."
" And you said you didn't know whether you were to
be or not. I is it is it Alicia ? I heard "
"What did you hear?"
" That you were every day at her father's house, and
that every one supposed "
" Persons suppose a great deal. I was there every
day, because Colonel Southall is my very dear friend,
and I went to take him news of my mother. Besides,
330 A GENTLE PIONEER
I found that I could go every day without fearing in
the least to meet Alicia. She is to marry some one
else, and I am very glad, for he is a good fellow and
will make her happy."
"Then it is some other; her sister, maybe. Carter
says she is more charming than Alicia, and if you are
not certain if you don't know whether you are "
" I don't know, little girl ; it all depends upon you.
No one else in the wide world can tell me."
" On me ? It depends on me ? "
" Yes, if you will not marry me, I shall be sorry I
came back. Agnes, Agnes, can it be that, after all, I
misunderstood and that I am the lucky other fellow, the
more likable one ? Am I, Agnes ? "
"Ah, my heart's desire," breathed the girl, lifting true
eyes to his.
"Why did you mislead me and send me away so
utterly wretched ? " Parker asked, as they were -rowing
across stream.
"I didn't send you away; you went, and I was
wretched, too, but I could not explain. I did not think
you would misunderstand so entirely, and I had prom-
ised, though I did find there was some one that I cared
more for than for Archie, but I couldn't tell you so to
your face. You stayed away such a long time, that
time, and I was telling myself that if you loved me, you
couldn't do it, and so I tried to show you that I didn't
care, for you know you had never said."
HER HEART'S DESIRE 331
" No, I had never said half that I ought. I know
now that I should have said nothing at all, or I should
have told you at once how much I loved you. You
would have waited for me, Agnes?"
"You know I would," she answered shyly.
" It has been a sad time, my darling little lass. I
would never have returned but for the faint hope,
which somehow would not be downed, that after all I
might find you free, and then that mischievous Carter
told me you were to be married. I wonder why he
dared to say so. I have a crow to pick with him. Yet,
sweetheart, out of our sorrow has come a great joy, as
we used to say long ago. Do you remember ? "
Agnes was looking off at the sunset sky. " I remem-
ber. I am glad it was on the hilltop that we met to-
day," she murmured.
" The dear hilltop. It has been in my mind many
and many a time, when I thought I had lost my dear
little frontier lass. Many and many a time I fancied I
could see you standing there in your linsey-woolsey
gown, with your sunbonnet in your hand, and your
little kerchief folded about your neck. I told my
mother about you, Agnes, and though my hope was
very faint, she bade me keep it alive and to come back
here and try to win you. ' And if you do find that your
little girl is free and that her heart is yours, give her my
blessing,' she said, and my sister, too, said, ' Give Agnes
my love.' '
332 A GENTLE PIONEER
The tears came to Agnes's eyes. She was deeply
touched. " How little I deserve it," she said. " They
who are such dainty ladies, if they could see me as you
see me now."
" As I see you now ? Ah, dear child, they would see
a lady in very truth, gentle, sweet, and good, the queen
of my heart and home, to whom I shall delight to do
homage as long as I am her humble subject." He bent
his head and kissed the brown hand lying in his.
" And when I take you to your mother and ask you of
her, will she give you to me, do you think ? "
" Yes, I am sure she will. And there is my father,
too. You know about my father ? "
" I heard and was filled with rejoicing. It was from
Henry Flint that I heard. He wrote and told me of
what his stay at your house had done for him. I
thought, maybe, Agnes', that he might be the ' more
likable one.' "
" Dr. Flint ? Oh, no. He seems so very much older,
and he is but our good friend."
" He worships your mother, and says she is his ideal
woman, and " Parker leaned forward again, "her
daughter grows more and more like her."
It was dusk when they reached the house, but it was
not too dark for the mother to see the joyful light in her
daughter's eyes as she came up and put her arms about
her, whispering, " Oh, mother, my heart's desire, my
heart's desire ! "
HER HEART'S DESIRE 333
" My bonny lass, my little Agnes," her mother mur-
mured, her eyes rilling.
" Will you give her to me, Mrs. Kennedy ? " said
Parker, watching the two.
" Ay, lad ; she's given herself, I see, and it's not my
hand that would separate you."
" I shall live your next neighbor," said Agnes, lift-
ing her head.
" Ah, my wean, so soon to be thinking of that," her
mother answered sadly.
" I am going to find Mr. Kennedy," Parker told them,
and he went out leaving the girl with her mother, to
pour out her tale of happiness and to tell of Polly's gossip.
" So, mother dear," the girl said, laughing, " I am
very fortunate, you see, for, as Polly says, I shall not be
* left settin',' and though you will not have the honor of
being the mother-in-law to a meenister, you'll have me
near you always and I shall have you, which to my mind
is much better."
Presently the men folks came tramping in Fergus
Kennedy, Sandy, Parker Willett, and Carter.
"What's this I hear, you sly puss?" said Carter,
making a dash for Agnes, and taking her hands to
shake them heartily.
She laughed confusedly, but she held up her head, for
she had no cause for shame. " How dared you tell that I
was going to be married, you naughty lad ? " she asked.
"Well, aren't you?" returned Carter, impudently.
334 A GENTLE PIONEER
" However," when the laugh had subsided he went on,
" I was thinking about that time that I'd marry you
myself, but I've concluded to wait for Margret,"
which in very truth he did. "Are you going to turn
me out, Cousin Park ? " he asked ruefully.
" Not till you want to go."
" I'll buy my own land, then, and set up for myself
as soon as my lady-love is old enough," he said soberly.
And then he crossed the room to where Margret sat
covered with confusion.
The news of Parker's return spread quickly through
the neighborhood, and the next day brought Polly and
Jeanie to hear the truth of the report which Carter had
not been slow to scatter abroad. Polly fairly hugged
Parker in the exuberance of her joy at his return, and
though she maintained that there was no one good
enough for Nancy, she was mightily pleased when she
was told of what she called Parker's luck. Jeanie was
relieved to be free to give her news of Archie, though
she insisted that it was all Agnes's fault, and that her
brother had been obliged to go elsewhere for consola-
tion when Agnes jilted him. It was plain to those who
in years after met the Rev. and Mrs. Archie M'Clean,
that the good man had been unable to withstand the
widow's subtle flattery, which she was well versed in
using, but which was no part of Agnes's art of pleasing,
though in all cases it will win a man whose bump of
self-esteem is a match for Archie's.
HER HEART'S DESIRE 335
It was in October that Parker and Agnes took pos-
session of their little home, and there was a great house-
warming, which those for miles around attended. They
were all there, the friends who had stood shoulder to
shoulder with the young couple when they first started
to win their way in the wilderness Dod Hunter and
his strapping sons, the M'Cleans, all but Archie, Jeanie
and David Campbell, Dr. Flint, Jimmy O'Neill, and
last, but not least, Polly, who was the life of the occa-
sion, and, it is reported, nearly persuaded the minister
to dance an Irish jig, so " delutherin' " was she, but it
was Carter who told this, and its accuracy may be
judged accordingly. Carter, be it said, vied with Polly
in his lively efforts to make every one have a good
time.
And when the fun and feasting had become a thing
of the past, one evening Parker and Agnes climbed the
hill that overlooked O'Neill's clearing. Hand in hand
they stood looking at the sunset, Agnes very serious,
feeling a little the weight of her new responsibilities.
" What are you thinking of ? " she asked her hus-
band.
" I have been thinking of the years to come. We
are pioneers, Agnes, but we have a great future before
us. We are soon to be a state ; even now the wilderness
begins to blossom like the rose. Those dangers of the
early days will never be ours. We shall grow and en-
large our borders and open the way for others, who will
336 A GENTLE PIONEER
strike farther and farther west. We have crossed our
mountains, dear, and the way is plain before us."
Such was the man's thought. "And of what was
my wife thinking?"
"Of our home; of whether I shall ever disappoint
you, and whether I shall learn to be like my mother,
so strong, so helpful, so patient; if I could but be to
you what she is to my father."
"You are now, my brave little lass," said Parker,
drawing her close. " You are all that, strong, and help-
ful, and* patient, and when we are an old, old couple, I
shall say to you, as your father so often says to your
mother, ' Ye are my ain hand's morrow.' "
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