the grave school-master, and he had a long talk with him that night. It was
no use, Caleb Hazel said, trying to persuade the boy to live with the
Major--not yet. And the Major was more content when he came to know in what
good hands the boy was, and, down in his heart, he loved the lad the more for
his sturdy independence, and for the pride that made him shrink from facing
the world with the shame of his birth; knowing that Chad thought of him
perhaps more than of himself. Such unwillingness to give others trouble
seemed remarkable in so young a lad. Not once did the Major mention the Deans
to the boy, and about them Chad asked no questions--not even when he saw
their carriage passing the Major's gate. When they came to leave the Major
said:

"Well, Chad, when that filly of yours is a year old, I'll buy 'em both from
you, if you'll sell 'em, and I reckon you can come up and go to school then."


Chad shook his head. Sell that colt? He would as soon have thought of selling
Jack. But the temptation took root, just the same, then and there, and grew
steadily until, after another year in the mountains, it grew too strong. For,
in that year, Chad grew to look the fact of his birth steadily in the face,
and in his heart grew steadily a proud resolution to make his way in the
world despite it. It was curious how Melissa came to know the struggle that
was going on within him and how Chad came to know that she knew-- though no
word passed between them: more curious still, how it came with a shock to
Chad one day to realize how little was the tragedy of his life in comparison
with the tragedy in hers, and to learn that the little girl with swift vision
had already reached that truth and with sweet unselfishness had reconciled
herself. He was a boy--he could go out in the world and conquer it, while her
life was as rigid and straight before her as though it ran between close
walls of rock as steep and sheer as the cliff across the river. One thing he