His people had come to these mountain fastnesses because there they found that liberty of thought and action which all our early Americans longed for; but now into that freedom of action there came some intangible influence which he could not understand. Tom simply resolved to march into the forest as his great-grandfather had done. He “stepped back into the brush” for the duration of the war. For him this was the only natural solution for a problem he did not understand. In this way he could escape what seemed to him oppression and impairment of the liberty which he held more dear than life. So he made the usual arrangements. Food would be left for him at a certain spot by his people. If anyone came in looking for Tom, his people would put up a smoke signal so he would understand. Meantime, Tom continued his work in a tie camp, his squirrel rifle leaning against a tree. When he finished his work, he “stepped back” into deep laurel and was lost as though he had gone up into smoke. His decision, having been taken, would remain unshakable even unto death. He said, “I reckon I made up my mind, and I’d ruther die here than in Germany.” Let us consider the situation. Here is Tom B——, an American of native blood, afraid of nothing that rides, walks or swims, willing to fight his weight in wildcats to defend the freedom and liberty of his native hills—and he is a fugitive from justice. Now, how can the A. P. L. save that man from the consequence of his folly? He was saved. As soon as the Chief heard of Tom B——’s disappearance, he packed his timber cruising kit and went out into Tom’s country. At night he reached the cabin of Uncle John Coggins, who knew everybody in that neck of the woods and whose word was law. Uncle John knew what was up, but he said nothing—only kept his small blue eyes fixed on the visitor. After they had finished their meal, the two went out and sat on a log in the sun, in the middle of a clearing where no one could approach without being seen in time. “I understand,” remarked the Chief casually, “that Tom has stepped back into the brush.” No sign from Uncle John that he had heard anything. Tom’s name was not mentioned again. Then the talk was shifted to the war and other things. The chief tried to explain to Uncle John the problem of raising the army. He tried to bring home the war, across the thousands of miles of sea and land, to this old man sitting on a log in the western North Carolina mountains. He pointed out the purpose and the manifest fairness of selective service, taking all alike from all ranks. Then they talked about the weather and the crops and the soaring price of corn “likker” and the growing scarcity of good white oak timber. The Chief went away. Uncle John, when he said good-bye, understood perfectly why the visitor had come to his cabin.