roughly. Raines saw this, and a moment later he led the old
mountaineer from the room. Thereafter the latter was quieter, but
only for a little while. Several times the kitchen was filled and
emptied, and ever was the crowd unsteadier. Soon even Raines's
influence was of no avail, and the bottle was passed openly from
guest to guest.

"Whyn't ye dance?"

Clayton felt his arm grasped, and Hicks stood swaying before him.

"Whyn't ye dance?" he repeated. " Can't ye dance? Mebbe ye air
too good-like Sherd. Well, Easter kin, Hyar, Mart, come 'n' dance
with the gal. She air the best dancer in these parts."

Clayton had his hand upon Easter as though to forbid her. The
mountaineer saw the movement, and his face flamed; but before
he could speak, the girl pressed Clayton's arm, and, with an
appealing glance, rose to her feet.

That's right," said her father, approvingly, but with a look of
drunken malignancy toward Clayton. "Now," he called out, in a
loud voice, "I want this couple to have the floor, 'n' everybody to look on 'n' see what is dancin'. Start the fiddles, boys."

It was dancing. The young mountaineer was a slender, active
fellow, not without grace, and Easter seemed hardly to touch the
floor. They began very slowly at first, till Easter, glancing aside at
Clayton and seeing his face deepen with interest, and urged by the
remonstrance of het father, the remarks of the onlookers, and the
increasing abandon of the music, gave herself up to the dance. The