"McChesney," said he, "we'll have no bickerings in court among soldiers.
The land is yours, and to-morrow my attorney shall give you a deed of it.
Your hand, McChesney."

The stubbornness vanished from Tom's face, and there came instead a dazed
expression as he thrust a great, hard hand into the Major's.

"'Twan't the land, sir," he stammered; "these varmints of settlers is
gittin' thick as flies in July. 'Twas Polly Ann. I reckon I'm obleeged
to ye, Major."

"There, there," said the Major, "I thank the Lord I came to Kentucky to
see for myself. Damn the land. I have plenty more,--and little else."
He turned quizzically to Colonel Clark, revealing a line of strong, white
teeth. "Suppose we drink a health to your drummer boy," said he, lifting
up his gourd.



CHAPTER IV

I CROSS THE MOUNTAINS ONCE MORE

"'Tis what ye've a right to, Davy," said Polly Ann, and she handed me a
little buckskin bag on which she had been sewing. I opened it with
trembling fingers, and poured out, chinking on the table, such a motley
collection of coins as was never seen,--Spanish milled dollars, English
sovereigns and crowns and shillings, paper issues of the Confederacy, and
I know not what else. Tom looked on with a grin, while little Tom and
Peggy reached out their hands in delight, their mother vigorously