“It might be all very well to carry him for a mile,” said the practical Azalea, “but just think of doing it for miles and miles—for twenty miles.” “We won’t have to carry him that far. Say we rig up a hammock and carry him ten miles. Then we’ll reach a wagon road. Meantime, you-all ride ahead, and have a wagon waiting for us. Put a mattress on it with plenty of pillows and comfortables.” “And we’ll bring along something to sustain him,” added Aunt Zillah, forgetting all about her objections, “and some refreshments for you and Keefe—” “And the first thing you know we’ll have him at Bee Tree.” “Then,” put in Carin, “we could get the drawing room on a Pullman for him, and you and Keefe could go with him to Asheville.” “Sure,” said Mr. Thompson. “Sure we can do it!” “And is Mrs. Panther willing?” asked Miss Zillah. “You can’t tell whether she is or whether she ain’t,” said Mr. Thompson. “She’s fierce as a tiger. But then she’s lived like a tiger—only the hunting ain’t been good. Say, ladies, are you with us?” “Oh, we are,” said Miss Zillah fervently. “It will be like taking a man from a living tomb. Of course I can see there are many difficulties, but probably it is best not to think too much about them.” “That’s the idee exackly,” agreed Mr. Thompson. “If you want to do anything, don’t waste your time thinking about the difficulties.” “For example,” went on Miss Zillah, “you’ll never reach the main road before sundown.” “We’ve thought of that,” said Mr. Thompson, “and what we propose is that we shall stay right here to-night.” “Oh, I couldn’t sleep in that house,” whispered Carin. “Honestly, I couldn’t.” “No call to,” said Mr. Thompson, flushing a little, however, in spite of himself, out of loyalty to his fellow mountain folk. “You-all will sleep out in the open. You can have the stars for your candles and the sun-ball for your alarm clock. O’Connor and I will scrape up pine leaves for your beds. You can put your raincoats around you, and maybe I can find an extra blanket to help you out. We’ll build a fire and you can sleep with your feet to it. Now, what’s the matter with that?” “Nothing, nothing,” cried Azalea. “Oh, Mr. Thompson, how sweet of you to think of it.” Haystack Thompson grinned mockingly at his young friend. “Me, ‘sweet’?” he asked derisively. “Jest about as sweet as a green persimmon.” CHAPTER X THE RESCUE, CONTINUED Breaking up a home is not an easy matter, even when the home has little in it; nor is it a happy thing—no, not even when the home has been a sad one. Moreover, it cannot be done in an hour, even under the easiest conditions. “We’ll come back some day, I reckon,” said Mrs. Panther to Miss Pace, looking about her at the bare room with its broken fireplace and dingy walls. “Seems like I wouldn’t know how to live nowhere else.”