“I can walk it,” said the girl. Compared with her heavy sulkiness, Bud Coulter’s habit of arguing was blitheness itself. However, as Azalea turned at the house door to look after her strange group of pupils, Dibblee, the red-headed boy, waved his hand, and little Babe Coulter called: “Say, teacher, I’m coming nex’-day.” She slipped in the house with Carin beside her, to find Miss Zillah and Mrs. McEvoy waiting anxiously to get a report of the first day’s work. “Them Coulters,” said Mrs. McEvoy when she heard the name of the first pupils mentioned, “are the ones that have a war with the Simmses. They’ve kept it up for twenty years and more. Seems like they’re set on seeing which can kill the others off.” “Oh,” cried Azalea, “is it really one of those dreadful mountain quarrels? Mrs. McEvoy, do you suppose we could do anything to break it up?” Mis’ Cassie threw an amused and commiserating look at Azalea, who was looking, for her, white-faced and nervous—not that Azalea’s cheeks could really fade out completely. “I don’t think I’d aim to do that,” she said dryly. “You ’tend to your teaching, Miss Azalea, and perhaps the light of learning may show them the folly of walking in dark ways.” Carin was telling about Paralee Panther. “Oh, one of them Panthers,” said Mrs. McEvoy. “They’re strangers. Nobody takes to them much—can’t get it out of them where they come from nor what they aim to do. They’ve all got heavy looks, but that girl’s the worst of the lot.” “She’s quite a contrast to Dibblee Sikes,” mused Carin. “Now, there’s a right peart boy!” exclaimed Mrs. McEvoy with unusual enthusiasm. “He’s a blessing to his mother, and a fine friendly lad altogether.” It was time to get supper and Carin and Azalea insisted on helping Miss Zillah, though they would have been particularly glad to have snuggled down on the settee and forgotten the world. They had promised Annie Laurie that Aunt Zillah should not be allowed to get weary and they were determined to keep their word. But after supper Miss Zillah insisted on stacking the dishes away until morning. She said she wanted to sew and talk, and that doing the dishes the next day would help her to pass the time. So while she put some tiny tucks in a summer frock for Annie Laurie, the girls told her of everything that had happened during the day. Miss Zillah was rather dismayed. “I don’t understand about those children,” she said. “Their spirits don’t seem to be right.”