towns which have sprung up there, established the prosperity which has,
through them, advanced the state. The mountain men of Tennessee and of
Kentucky are almost as primitive, to-day, as were their forefathers,
who, early in the great transcontinental migration, dropped from its
path and spread among the hills a century ago, rather than continue with
the weary march to more fertile, fabled lands beyond.

It had not been, as Madge had feared, his definite hatred of Frank
Layson which had started him upon the road so early in the morning, but,
rather, an unrest born of the whole problem of the "foreigners'"
invasion of the mountains. His restless discontent with Layson's
presence had left him ready for excitement over wild tales told in store
and cabin of what the young man's fellows were doing in the valley. He
had determined to go thither for himself, to see with his own eyes the
wonder-workers, although he hated both the wonders and the men who were
accomplishing them.

What did the mountain-country want of railroads? What did it want of
towns? The railroads would but bring more interlopers and in the towns
they would foregather, arrogant in their firm determination to force
upon the men who had first claimed the country their artificial rules
and regulations. Timid in their fear of those they sought to furtively
dislodge and of the rough love these men showed of a liberty including
license, they would huddle in their storied buildings, crowd in their
trammelled streets, work and worry in their little offices absurdly,
harmfully to the rights of proper men. Like other mountaineers Joe had
small realization of the advantages of easy interchange of thought and
the quick commerce which come with aggregation. He thought the
concentration of the townsfolk was a sign of an unmanly dread of those
first settlers whom they wished to drive away unjustly, subjugate and