ride on.

"Let's go!" he said. There is little or no demonstrativeness in
the domestic relations of mountaineers. The kiss of courtship is
the only one known. There were no good-bys--only that short "Let's
go!"

June sprang behind her father from the porch. The step-mother
handed her the bundle which she clutched in her lap, and they
simply rode away, the step-mother and Bub silently gazing after
them. But June saw the boy's mouth working, and when she turned
the thicket at the creek, she looked back at the two quiet
figures, and a keen pain cut her heart. She shut her mouth
closely, gripped her bundle more tightly and the tears streamed
down her face, but the man did not know. They climbed in silence.
Sometimes her father dismounted where the path was steep, but June
sat on the horse to hold the bundle and thus they mounted through
the mist and chill of the morning. A shout greeted them from the
top of the little spur whence the big Pine was visible, and up
there they found Hale waiting. He had reached the Pine earlier
than they and was coming down to meet them.

"Hello, little girl," called Hale cheerily, "you didn't fail me,
did you?"

June shook her head and smiled. Her face was blue and her little
legs, dangling under the bundle, were shrinking from the cold. Her
bonnet had fallen to the back of her neck, and he saw that her
hair was parted and gathered in a Psyche knot at the back of her
head, giving her a quaint old look when she stood on the ground in