"I couldn't help swearing," she explained. "I never had heard much except 'cuss' words. I think also now, as I recall my life at Tim's Place, I would never have dared that desperate mode of escape had I not been hardened by such a life. I wish I could see Old Tomah once more," she added musingly, "and I'd like to send him some gift. He was the best-hearted Indian I ever saw or heard of, and his queer teachings about spites and how they rewarded us for good deeds and punished us for evil ones was no harm, for it set me thinking. The one thought that encouraged me most during those awful days and nights alone in the woods was the belief that among the spites which I was sure followed me was my mother's soul. I've never changed in my belief, either, and shall always feel that she guided me to your camp." Uncle Jud also obtained his share of fun at Chip's expense, describing his finding of her with humorous additions. "She was all beat out that night I found her on top o' Bangall Hill, 'n' yet when I asked her if she'd run away from some poor farm, she was ready to claw my eyes out, an' dunno's I blame her. I was innocent, too, fer I really s'posed she had." Martin's visit at this hospitable home was not allowed to terminate for a week, for visitors seldom came here, and Uncle Jud, as big a boy as his brother when the chance came, planned all sorts of trips and outings to entertain them, and quite characteristic affairs they were, too. One day they drove to a wood-bordered pond far up the valley, fished a few hours for pickerel and perch, and had a fish fry and picnic dinner. The next day they visited a strange, romantic grotto up in the mountains, known as the Wolf's Den, and here a table was set, broiled chicken, sweet corn, and such toothsome fare formed the meal, with nut-gathering for amusement. Squirrel and partridge shooting also furnished Martin a little excitement. When he and Angie insisted that they must leave, both host and hostess showed genuine regret. A few remarks made by Angie to her former protegee, in private, the last evening of this visit, may be quoted. "I must insist, my dear child," she said, "that you make us a visit in the near future. You left us under an entirely false impression and it has grieved me more than you can imagine. There was never a word of truth in anything that Hannah said. She was spiteful and malicious and desired to get even with you for a hurt to her pride. We had no thought of hurrying away to the woods to separate you and Ray for any reason whatever. Of course, as you must know, I had no suspicion of any attachment between you, and if I had, I certainly should not have tried to break it off in that way. That is a matter that concerns only you and him. My own life experience shows that first love is the wisest and best, and while you were both too young then for an engagement, you must believe me when I tell you that I had no wish to interfere." And so the breach was healed.