"Stand back thar, Tennessee!" he faltered.

He was trembling from head to foot. And yet Tennessee was far too
young to tell that she had seen the grant in his hands, to
understand, even to question. But had he been seized by the whole
Griggs tribe, he could not have been so panic-stricken as he was by
the sight of that unknowing little head, the touch of the chubby
little hand on his knee.

He thrust the grant back into the pocket of Nate's coat. His
resolve was routed by the presence of love and innocence. Not here-
-not now could he be vindictive, malicious. With some urgent,
inborn impulse strongly constraining him, he caught the little
sister in his arms, and fled headlong through the darkness,
homeward.

As he went he was amazed that he should have contemplated this
revenge.

"Why, I can't afford ter be a scoundrel an' sech, jes' 'kase Nate
Griggs air a tricky feller an' hev fooled me. Ef Tennessee hedn't
stepped up so powerful peart I moughtn't hev come ter my senses in
time. I mought hev tore up Nate's grant by now. But arter this I
ain't never goin' ter set out ter act like a scamp jes' 'kase
somebody else does."

His conscience had prevailed, his better self returned. And when he
reached home, and opening the door saw his mother still nodding over
her knitting, and Rufe asleep in his chair, and the fire smouldering
on the hearth, all as he had left it, he might have thought that he