“Ef you was to lay a finger on me and he thought you was in ’arnest, it would take a hull brigade to gether yer fragments from the a’jacent kountry round abowt.” “I’ll be ‘keerful’ how I handle you then,” said Rafe. “Did I understand you to say that Miss Myrtle is really _your_ daughter?” “Ain’t no ways anxious ter know, be you, stranger?” said Old Pegs, frowning. “Git up hyur, Bruin—stand on yer he’d!” The grizzly at once threw his quarters into the air, and in that attitude walked up to his master, and planting his head upon the earth, remained in that position until ordered to come down, which he did at once and rolled himself rapidly over and over until he was quite out sight behind the bushes. “You dislike to talk about your daughter, I see,” said Rafe, persistently. “No I don’t—no sech thing,” replied Old Pegs, belligerently. “Don’t tell me no sech foolishness. She’s a good gal, but she ain’t fur gentlemen to consort with, mind you. And look yer; ef you kain’t manige ter git along ’thout making yourself too familiar, then all I kin say is, we’d better part kump’ny now.” What Rafe might have said in reply it is impossible to say, but at this moment Myrtle appeared and called to them. Old Pegs arose in his slow and easy manner, and led the way through a screen of thick bushes until they came upon a cabin so artistically concealed that a person might have passed it a hundred times without suspecting its presence. It was built of small logs dovetailed at the corners in frontier fashion, and chinked with a sort of blue clay. It had two small windows, each containing four panes of glass—for that article was difficult to transport to the mountain region. The door was heavy and swung upon iron hinges, manufactured from strap iron, in a rude way. The interior of the little place was as neat as hands could make it, and the little table and stools actually shone with scrubbing. A guitar stood in a little curtained recess, and, to the utter surprise of Rafe Norris, a rude bookcase in one corner contained a supply of books which had evidently been much used. The table was set in the middle of the room, the plain crockery arranged to the best advantage. They had venison steaks, fresh broiled trout, pone bread and fragrant coffee. Norris at the invitation of Old Pegs drew up his stool and was helped liberally. Myrtle poured the coffee, and all enjoyed a hearty meal. “Thar,” said Old Pegs, “I dunno ez I keer fur any more. What a thing it is to hev a gal like Myrtle ter make the little cabin bright! She killed that deer and caught them trout herself, and thet’s what I call being ginerally useful. What do you say?” “I can appreciate the home qualities of your daughter,” said Rafe, “but from the appearance of that book-case and the guitar I should say that she has other good qualities.”