bluegrass notions never did no mounting-born no good." He stepped closer
to her.

The latent fires in his approaching eyes were warning for her and she
stepped back hastily. "Joe Lorey, you behave yourself!" said she. "I--"

"Can't ye see I love ye, Madge?" he asked, and then the fires died down,
leaving in his eyes the pleading, worried look alone. "Why, Madge, I--"

She tried to make a joke of it. "Joe Lorey," she said, laughing, "I
reckon you're _plum_ crazy. An' you ain't givin' me a chance to do what
'twas that I come down for."

"But--"

"I ain't goin' to listen to another word, to-day," said she, and waved
him off.

He went obediently, but slowly and unhappily, his rifle snuggling in
the crook of his left elbow, his heavy boots finding firm footing in the
rough and rocky trail as if by instinct of their own, without assistance
from his brain. A "revenuer," coming up, just then, to bother him about
his still and its unlawful product of raw whisky, would have met small
mercy at his hands. He would have been a bad man, then, to quarrel with.
His temper would have flared at slightest provocation. He would not let
it flare at her; but, unseeing any of the beauties which so vividly
appealed to her, the bitter foretaste of defeat was in his heart; and in
his soul was fierce revolt and disappointment. He had not the slightest
thought, however, of accepting this defeat as final.