three years no word was heard of him, but the hatred burned in the
heart of Rome's mother, and was traced deep in her grim old face
while she patiently waited the day of retribution. It smouldered,
too, in the hearts of the women of both clans who had lost
husbands or sons or lovers; and the friends and kin of each had
little to do with one another, and met and passed with watchful
eyes. Indeed, it would take so little to turn peace to war that the
wonder was that peace had lived so long. Now trouble was at hand.
Rufe Stetson had come back at last, a few months since, and had
quietly opened store at the county-seat, Hazlan-a little town five
miles up the river, where Troubled Fork runs seething into the
Cumberland-a point of neutrality for the factions, and
consequently a battIe-ground. Old Jasper's store was at the other
end of the town, and the old man had never been known to brook
competition. He had driven three men from Hazlan during the last
term of peace for this offence, and everybody knew that the fourth
must leave or fight. Already Rufe Stetson had been warned not to
appear outside his door after dusk. Once or twice his wife had seen
skulking shadows under the trees across the road, and a tremor of
anticipation ran along both banks of the Cumberland.

III

A FORTNIGHT later, court came. Rome was going to Hazlan, and
the feeble old Stetson mother limped across the porch from the
kitchen, trailing a Winchester behind her. Usually he went
unarmed, but he took the gun now, as she gave it, in silence.

The boy Isom was not well, and Rome had told him to ride the
horse. But the lad had gone on afoot to his duties at old Gabe