Colonel Pendleton looked at the sturdy mountain lad, his compact
figure, square shoulders, well-set head with its shock of hair and
bold, steady eyes, and at the slim, wild little creature shrinking
against the mantel-piece, and then he turned to his own son Gray and
his little cousin Marjorie. Four better types of the Blue-grass and of
the mountains it would be hard to find. For a moment he saw them in his
mind's eye transposed in dress and environment, and he was surprised at
the little change that eye could see, and when he thought of the four
living together in these wilds, or at home in the Blue-grass, his
wonder at what the result might be almost startled him. The mountain
lad had shown no surprise at the talk about him and his cousin, but
when the stranger man caught his eye, little Jason's lips opened.
"I knowed all about that," he said abruptly.
"About what?"
"Why, that mighty hunter--and Mavis."
"Why, who told you?"
"The jologist."
"The what?" Old Jason laughed.
"He means ge-ol-o-gist," said the old man, who had no little trouble
with the right word himself. "A feller come in here three year ago with
a hammer an' went to peckin' aroun' in the rocks here, an' that boy was
with him all the time. Thar don't seem to be much the feller didn't
tell Jason an' nothin' that Jason don't seem to remember. He's al'ays
a-puzzlin' me by comin' out with somethin' or other that rock-pecker
tol' him an'--" he stopped, for the boy was shaking his head from side
to side.
"Don't you say nothin' agin him, now," he said, and old Jason laughed.
"He's a powerful hand to take up fer his friends, Jason is."
"He was a friend o' all us mountain folks," said the boy stoutly, and
then he looked Colonel Pendleton in the face--fearlessly, but with no
impertinence.
"He said as how you folks from the big settlemints was a-comin' down
here to buy up our wild lands fer nothin' because we all was a lot o'
fools an' didn't know how much they was worth, an' that ever'body'd
have to move out o' here an' you'd get rich diggin' our coal an'
cuttin' our timber an' raisin' hell ginerally."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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