When he entered the tanyard no one was there except Jube Perkins and Andy Byers the tanner, lounging as usual on the wood-pile, and the workman, with scarcely less the aspect of idleness, dawdlingly scraping a hide on the wooden horse. Birt discerned a portent in the unwonted solemnity of their faces, and his heart sank. "Waal, Birt, we-uns hev been a-waitin' fur ye," said the tanner in a subdued, grave tone that somehow reminded Birt of the bated voices in a house of death. "Set down hyar on the wood-pile, fur Andy an' me hev got a word ter say ter ye." Birt's dilated black eyes turned in dumb appeal from one to the other as he sank down on the wood-pile. His suspense gnawed him like an actual grief while Jubal Perkins slowly shifted his position and looked vaguely at Andy Byers for a suggestion, being uncertain how to begin. "Waal, Birt," he drawled at last, "ez yer dad is dead an' ye hev got nobody ter see arter ye an' advise ye, Andy an' me, we-uns agreed ez how we'd talk ter ye right plain, an' try ter git ye ter jedge o' this hyar matter like we-uns do. Andy an' me know more 'bout the law, an' 'bout folks too, than ye does. These hyar Griggs folks hev always been misdoubted ez a fractious an' contrary-wise fambly. Ef enny Griggs ain't aggervatin' an' captious, it air through bein' plumb terrified by the t'others. They air powerful hard folks--an' they'll land ye in the State Prison yet, I'm thinkin'. I wonder they hain't started at ye a'ready. But thar's no countin' on 'em, 'ceptin' that they'll do all they kin that air ha'sh an' grindin'." "That air a true word, Birt," said Andy Byers, speaking to the boy for the first time in many days. "Ef they hev thar reason fur it, they mought hold thar hand fur a time, but fust or las' they'll hev all out'n ye ez the law will allow 'em." Birt listened in desperation. All this was sharpened by the certainty that the mineral was only valueless pyrites, and the prescience of Nate's anger when this fact should come to his knowledge, and prudence no longer restrain him. His rage would vent itself on his luckless victim for every cent, every mill, that the discovery of the "fools' gold" had cost him. "They'll be takin' ye away from the mountings ter jail ye an' try ye, an' mebbe ye'll go ter the pen'tiary arter that. An' how will yer mother, an' brothers, an' sister, git thar vittles, an' firewood, an' corn-crap an' clothes, an' sech--Rufe bein' the oldest child, arter you-uns?" demanded the tanner. "An' even when ye git back--I hate ter tell ye this word--nobody will want ye round. They'll be feared ye'd be forever pickin' an' stealin'." "But we-uns will stand up fur ye, bein' ez ye air the widder's son," said Byers eagerly. "We-uns will gin the Griggs tribe ter onderstand that." "An' mebbe the Griggses won't want ter do nuthin', ef they hain't got no furder cause fur holdin' a grudge," put in the tanner. "What be ye a-layin' off fur me ter do?" asked Birt wonderingly.