river, and where this met the blue morning shadows, the dew was beginning to
drip and to sparkle. Chad could nor stand inaction long, and his eye lighted
up when he heard a great bleating at the foot of the spur and the shouts of
men and boys. Just then the old mother called from the rear of the cabin.

"Joel, them sheep air comin'!"

The big form of the old hunter filled the doorway and Jack bounded out between
his legs, while little Melissa appeared with two books, ready for school. Down
the road came the flock of lean mountain-sheep, Dolph and Rube driving them.
Behind, slouched the Dillon tribe--Daws and Whizzer and little Tad; Daws's
father, old Tad, long, lean, stooping, crafty: and two new ones cousins to
Daws--Jake and Jerry, the giant twins. "Joel Turner," said old Tad, sourly,
"here's yo' sheep!"

Joel had bought the Dillons' sheep and meant to drive them to the county-seat
ten miles down the river. There had evidently been a disagreement between the
two when the trade was made, for Joel pulled out a gray pouch of coonskin,
took from it a roll of bills, and, without counting them, held them out.

"Tad Dillon," he said, shortly, "here's yo' money!"

The Dillon father gave possession with a gesture and the Dillon faction,
including Whizzer and the giant twins, drew aside together--the father morose;
Daws watching Dolph and Rube with a look of much meanness; little Tad behind
him, watching Chad, his face screwed up with hate; and Whizzer, pretending not
to see Jack, but darting a surreptitious glance at him now and then, for then
and there was starting a feud that was to run fiercely on, long after the war
was done.