“I’m going to drive Cousin Erskine over the place with my ponies,” said Barbara, “and——” “I’m going back to bed,” interrupted Hugh, “or read a little Latin and Greek with Mr. Brockton.” There was impudence as well as humor in this, for the tutor had given up Hugh in despair long ago. Barbara shook her head. “You are going with us,” she said. “I want Hugh to ride with me,” said Colonel Dale, “and give Firefly a little exercise. Nobody else can ride him.” The Kentucky boy turned a challenging eye, as did every young man at the table, and Hugh felt very comfortable. While every one was getting ready, Harry brought out two foils and two masks on the porch a little later. “We fight with those,” he said, pointing to the crossed rapiers on the wall, “but we practise with these. Hugh, there, is the champion fencer,” he said, “and he’ll show you.” Harry helped the Kentucky boy to mask and they crossed foils—Hugh giving instructions all the time and nodding approval. “You’ll learn—you’ll learn fast,” he said. And over his shoulder to Harry: “Why, his wrist is as strong as mine now, and he’s got an eye like a weasel.” With a twist he wrenched the foil from his antagonist’s hand and clattered it on the steps. The Kentuckian was bewildered and his face flushed. He ran for the weapon. “You can’t do that again.” “I don’t believe I can,” laughed Hugh. “Will you learn me some more?” asked the boy eagerly. “I surely will.” A little later Barbara and her cousin were trotting smartly along a sandy road through the fields with the colonel and Hugh loping in front of them. Firefly was a black mettlesome gelding. He had reared and plunged when Hugh mounted, and even now he was champing his bit and leaping playfully at times, but the lad sat him with an unconcern of his capers that held the Kentucky boy’s eyes. “Gosh,” he said, “but Hugh can ride! I wonder if he could stay on him bareback.” “I suppose so,” Barbara said; “Hugh can do anything.” The summer fields of corn and grain waved away on each side under the wind, innumerable negroes were at work and song on either side, great barns and whitewashed cabins dotted the rich landscape which beyond the plantation broke against woods of sombre pines. For an hour they drove, the boy’s bewildered eye missing few details and understanding few, so foreign to him were all the changes wrought by the hand, and he could hardly have believed that this country was once as wild as his own—that this was to be impoverished and his own become even a richer land. Many questions the little girl asked—and some of his answers made her shudder. “Papa said last night that several of our kinsfolk spoke of going to your country in a party, and Harry and Hugh are crazy to go with them. Papa said people would be swarming over the Cumberland Mountains before long.” “I wish you’d come along.” Barbara laughed. “I wouldn’t like to lose my hair.”