ISS 
 


A GENTLE PIONEER 
 
 ' 
 
HISTORICAL BOOKS BY AMY E. 
 BLANCHARD. 
 
 A GIRL OF '76. A STORY OF THE EARLY PERIOD OF 
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 Cloth. 1 1. 50. 
 
 A REVOLUTIONARY MAID. A STORY OF THE MIDDLE 
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 A DAUGHTER OF FREEDOM. A STORY OF THE LAT- 
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 A HEROINE OF 1812. A MARYLAND ROMANCE. Illus- 
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 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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