But Mrs. Panther could not face Miss Pace as she replied. There was too much she could not tell. How could she leave the only spot on earth that belonged to her? How could they make any sort of a living elsewhere? Dare she, who had no more clothes than the poorest beggar, go out into the world? Miss Zillah looked at her with her soft yet penetrating gaze. “I know all you’re thinking, Mrs. Panther,” she said in tones that carried conviction to the heart, “but I’ll just ask you to trust in us and we’ll see you through.” For a moment or two no one spoke. Mr. Thompson was leaving matters for the present in Miss Zillah’s hands. Keefe and the girls were silent with pity. Never had they imagined anything so hopeless as the look on the faces of that man and woman. “You’ll think of a dozen reasons why you can’t do this or that,” went on Miss Zillah, “but I feel that every one of them can be overcome.” Paralee had drawn nearer to her mother, and her dark eyes shone like points of fire there in the gloom of the cabin. “Say yes, ma,” she whispered. “Say yes! We’ll all die here like snakes in our holes, if you don’t.” Mrs. Panther turned on her. “What you talking to me for?” she demanded. “Didn’t you turn your back on me? Didn’t you make Jake leave? Didn’t you take Granny? Much you care!” Then Haystack Thompson arose. He towered till he almost touched the roof of the cabin. “Mrs. Panther, ma’am,” he said, “you ain’t seeing things right, but I don’t blame you none. I’m a mountain man and I know how you feel. You’re proud. But this ain’t a question of pride. This is a question of saving lives. Now, ma’am, does it hurt your husband to move him?” “Oh, awful,” she said. “One side don’t feel, but to touch him hurts the other side awful.” “Does it, now?” said the fiddler, his voice quivering with sympathy. “I wonder why? Ladies, if you’ll be so good as to step outside, I’ll see if I can find out. I’m something of a bone-setter in my way. O’Connor, will you lend a hand?” Half an hour later Mr. Thompson came to consult with the ladies. “I believe,” he said earnestly, “that the man can be cured. There’s a broken collar bone—broken in two places as I make out, and never set—and it’s pressing on nerves and muscles in such a way as to make him helpless. That’s the way it looks to me. Now, Miss Carin told me coming over, that she’d pay for his keep in a hospital at Asheville if only we could get him there. It would be the death of him to take him in a wagon; and he couldn’t sit on a nag. So O’Connor and I have fixed it up that we’ll carry him out.” “But you can’t do that, Mr. Thompson,” objected Miss Zillah. “You’re not so vigorous as you used to be, sir—” “Never tell me that, Miss Pace! Never tell me that! Old Haystack’s got muscle and he’s got grit. You’ll see. You’ve set me on doing it more than ever, Miss Pace.”