sheep an' horses an' cattle than ever, I reckon?"

"Laws-a'-me! Why, Milt, Beasley 'ain't any idea what he
owns. Yes, he's the biggest man in these parts, since poor
old Al's took to failin'. I reckon Al's health ain't none
improved by Beasley's success. They've bad some bitter
quarrels lately -- so I hear. Al ain't what he was."

Dale bade good-by again to his old friend and strode away,
thoughtful and serious. Beasley would not only be difficult
to circumvent, but he would be dangerous to oppose. There
did not appear much doubt of his driving his way rough-shod
to the dominance of affairs there in Pine. Dale, passing
down the road, began to meet acquaintances who had hearty
welcome for his presence and interest in his doings, so that
his pondering was interrupted for the time being. He carried
the turkey to another old friend, and when he left her house
he went on to the village store. This was a large log cabin,
roughly covered with clapboards, with a wide plank platform
in front and a hitching-rail in the road. Several horses
were standing there, and a group of lazy, shirt-sleeved
loungers.

"I'll be doggoned if it ain't Milt Dale!" exclaimed one.

"Howdy, Milt, old buckskin! Right down glad to see you,"
greeted another.

"Hello, Dale! You air shore good for sore eyes," drawled
still another.