indeed a foolish, childish thing to have done, and I might have known
that it would only have put off the evil day of reckoning. Since then,
by reason of the mill site and the business we got by it, the land had
become the most valuable in that part of the country. Had I known
Colonel Clark's whereabouts, I should have gone to him for advice and
comfort. As it was, we were forced to await the issue without counsel.
Polly Ann and I talked it over many times while Tom sat, morose and
silent, in a corner. He was the pioneer pure and simple, afraid of no
man, red or white, in open combat, but defenceless in such matters as
this.

"'Tis Davy will save us, Tom," said Polly Ann, "with the l'arnin' he's
got while the corn was grindin'."

I had, indeed, been reading at the mill while the hopper emptied itself,
such odd books as drifted into Harrodstown. One of these was called
"Bacon's Abridgment"; it dealt with law and it puzzled me sorely.

"And the children," Polly Ann continued,--"ye'll not make me pick up the
four of 'em, and pack it to Louisiana, because Mr. Colfax wants the land
we've made for ourselves."

There were four of them now, indeed,--the youngest still in the bark
cradle in the corner. He bore a no less illustrious name than that of
the writer of these chronicles.

It would be hard to say which was the more troubled, Tom or I, that windy
morning we set out on the Danville trace. Polly Ann alone had been
serene,--ay, and smiling and hopeful. She had kissed us each good-by
impartially. And we left her, with a future governor of Kentucky on her