She laughed. "'Twas not the way he meant it. He thinks Jesus should be sittin' above the rest, with maybe angels flyin' at His shoulder." "It's better this way." "That's what I thought," Granny asserted. "The Lord, He wasn't above the beggars, the sick and those who done wrong. Somehow I got to think of Him as comin' down to all of us." "I, too." "This one," Granny spread the other tapestry, "I call _The Fall of Satan_." Jeff gasped again. The picture centered around the black silhouette of Satan, with a background done in delicate shades of red. There was about the figure utter misery, abandonment and despair. The gates of hell, which he had not yet entered, were merely suggested. But they were suggested so artistically that one sensed the seething fires, the complete torment, that awaited. Dan looked and shuddered. "Gee!" Jeff breathed, "Why hasn't anyone else seen these, Granny?" "Enos," she answered, "didn't hold with hangin' them on the walls and I've tried to keep the house as Enos'd want it. But I knew Enos wouldn't mind Kitty Cat. He--he's company." "Somebody should see them." "Pooh! Who'd bother with an old woman's foolishness?" "I would." "Then take them. Take them for the knife." "I won't do it." She seemed crestfallen. "I didn't think you would." Jeff said seriously, "It isn't that. These are worth a great deal of money." "They are? How much?" Jeff hazarded a guess, "Twenty-five dollars." "Land!" "Each," Jeff finished. "My land!" "Granny, do you trust me?" "Pooh! I didn't raise eight of my own 'thout knowin' aught of boys." "Are these dear to you?" "I don't set much store by 'em. Enos never liked 'em." "Let me take them into Ackerton," Jeff urged. "Let me see what I can do with them there." "Go ahead if you've a mind to. Land! Meal time and I haven't started a thing for you boys to eat!" 8. ACKERTON Jeff awakened an hour before sunrise. He raised himself on his bunk and listened. Dan's regular breathing proved that he still slept, and Jeff settled back beneath his warm blankets to do some thinking. In some respects, the trading around Smithville had not gone as well as he had hoped it would. The hill men had been eager for his knives of many uses, his fishing tackle, his small tools, his nails and all the bolts and screws he had. They had also taken all the novelties. But they had spurned his inferior products because they could make better ones themselves, and Jeff had been able to trade only one watch. Watches were useless to those who guided themselves by the sun.