of "Gee thar," from some unseen ox-driver. Presently, the slow,
deliberately-swaying heads of a team of oxen emerged from the bushes,
followed by the clanking chain of the "skids" of sawn planks, which they
were ponderously dragging with that ostentatious submissiveness peculiar
to their species. They had nearly passed him when there was a sudden
hitch in the procession. From where he stood he could see that a
projecting plank had struck a pile of chips and become partly imbedded
in it. To run to the obstruction and, with a few dexterous strokes and
the leverage of his stout stick, dislodge the plank was the work not
only of the moment but of an evidently energetic hand. The teamster
looked back and merely nodded his appreciation, and with a "Gee up! Out
of that, now!" the skids moved on.

"Much obliged, there!" said a hearty voice, as if supplementing the
teamster's imperfect acknowledgment.

The stranger looked up. The voice came from the open, sashless,
shutterless window of a rude building--a mere shell of boards and beams
half hidden in the still leafy covert before him. He had completely
overlooked it in his approach, even as he had ignored the nearer
throbbing of the machinery, which was so violent as to impart a decided
tremor to the slight edifice, and to shake the speaker so strongly that
he was obliged while speaking to steady himself by the sashless frame
of the window at which he stood. He had a face of good-natured and alert
intelligence, a master's independence and authority of manner, in spite
of his blue jean overalls and flannel shirt.

"Don't mention it," said the stranger, smiling with equal but more
deliberate good-humor. Then, seeing that his interlocutor still
lingered a hospitable moment in spite of his quick eyes and the jarring