Clayton spoke his name with difficulty. The butt of the rifle
dropped to the floor, and with a harsh laugh its holder advanced to
him with hand outstretched:

So ye air Easter's feller, air ye? Well, I'm yer dad-that's to be.
Shake."

Clayton shuddered. Good heavens! this was Easter's father! More
than once or twice, his name had never been mentioned at the
cabin.

I tuk ye fer a raider," continued the old mountaineer, not noticing
Clayton's repulsion, "'n' ef ye had 'a' been, ye wouldn't be nobody
now. I reckon Easter hain't told ye much about me, 'n' I reckon she
hev a right to be a leetle ashamed of me. I had a leetle trouble
down thar in the valley-I s'pose you've heerd about it-'n' I've had to
keep kind o' quiet. I seed ye once afore, 'n' I come near shootin'
ye, thinkin' ye was a raider. Am mighty glad I didn't, fer Easter is
powerful sot on ye. Sherd thought I could resk comm' down to the
wed-din'. They hev kind o' give up the s'arch, 'n' none o' the boys
won't tell on me. We'll have an old-timer, I tell ye. Ye folks from the settle-mints air mighty high-heeled, but old Bill Hicks don't allus go bar'footed. He kin step purty high, 'n' he's a-goin' to do it at that weddin'. Hev somefin?" he asked, suddenly pulling out a flask of colorless liquid. "Ez ye air to be one o' the fambly, I don't mind tellin' ye thar's the very moonshine that caused the leetle trouble down in the valley."

For fear of giving offence, Clayton took a swallow of the liquid,
which burned him like fire. He had scarcely recovered from the
first shock, and he had listened to the man and watched him with a
sort of enthralling fascination. He was Easter's father. He could
even see a faint suggestion of Easter's face in the cast of the
features before him, coarse and degraded as they were. He had the
same nervous, impetuous quickness, and, horrified by the likeness,
Clayton watched him sink back into a chair, pipe in mouth, and