“There’s some mighty sharp turns on the road,” said pa politely. “And maybe me and my friends had best see you on the way. We’ve got some neighbors ’waiting for us a piece on. I’d best whistle for ’em, I reckon.” But if he whistled, it was not heard for the noise as the wagons went rattling down the road. For a long time Jim could hear the sound of the hoofs and the squeak of the brakes and the angry voices of the show people. Meantime, the mountain men had gone back into the kitchen and lighted their pipes. They seemed to have but little to say to each other, and Jim, peeping in at the door, was startled to see each man lift his gun. But his father roared at them and they dropped them with smiles. “I’ve got to know where ma is,” cried Jim, running to his father. “There ain’t any harm coming to ma, is there?” “Not as I know of, son. Your ma’s a smart woman and a set one. When she wants to do a thing she most generally does it.” “But where is she, dad?” “That’s what I can’t pre-cisely say, son. All I know is she didn’t mean for to let that purty little girl go off with them wildcats. She’s set her heart on keeping her in Molly’s place, and we’ve set our hearts on having her. That’s all.” That was quite all. The mountaineers sat so that they faced the two open doors and the one open window. They appeared to be enjoying themselves after their fashion. Jim looked out at the dark mountain side and the dense forest, from which a strange whispering as of a thousand voices seemed to come. He knew that wild creatures lived on that mountain, and that terrible, sudden storms sometimes arose and raged over it. He knew, too, how the trails crossed and recrossed each other, and how unfamiliar they looked in the night. It would be very easy for his mother to lose her way, for she kept to the house much more than most of the women on the mountain. He kept saying to himself over and over: “I hope she’s safe; I hope she’s safe.” And aloud he said: “While we was about it, I wisht we’d a-taken that there boy. He was a awful smart boy.” “Sho!” said pa. “I wisht we had, too.” CHAPTER III IN HIDING “It’s only a little way farther now, dear. I’m sure it’s only a little way.” “A little way to where, please ma’am?” Azalea gasped the question. She was spent with hard climbing, and her heart pounded in her side. The steep path before her was dark and rough. There was only the stars and a small crescent moon to give them light. “I wouldn’t dare to carry a lantern—not to-night,” Ma McBirney had explained. “We’ll have to find our way in the dark this time.”