now they were bitter contestants for the favor of Polly Sizemore-a fact that Pleasant knew better than the Mission girl.

Flirts are rare in the hills. "If two boys meets at the same house," Pleasant once had told her, "they jes' makes the gal say which one she likes best, and t'other one gits!" But with the growth of the Mission school had come a certain tolerance which Polly had used to the limit. Indeed, St. Hilda had discovered a queer reason for a sudden quickening of interest on Polly's part in her studies. Polly had to have the letters she got read for her, and the letters she sent written for her, and thus St. Hilda found that at least three young men, who had gone into the army and had learned to write, thought each of them-that he was first in her heart. Polly now wanted to learn to read and write so that she could keep such secrets to herself. She had been "settin' up" with Ham Cage for a long time, and now she was "talkin' to" young King Camp. King was taking her to the dance, and it was plain to Pleasant that trouble was near. He looked worried.

"Well," he said, "I reckon thar hain't so much harm the way you school folks run sets because you don't 'low drinkin' or totin' pistols, an' you make 'em go home early. I heerd Miss Hildy is away-do you think you can manage the bad uns?" "I think so," smiled Miss Mary. "Well, mebbe I will come around tonight."

"Come right along now," said the girl heartily, but Pleasant had left his own gun at home, so he shook his head and started up the mountain.

II

HAPPY VALLEY was darkening now. The evening star shone white in the last rosy western flush, and already lanterns glowed on the porch of the "big house," where the dancing was to be. From high in the shadows voice came down to the girl:

"I hain't got a gun an' I hain't had a drink to-day. Hit's a shame when Miss Hildy's always a-tryin' to give us a good time she has to beg us to behave."

The young folks were gathering in. On the porch she saw Polly Sizemore in a chair and young King Camp slipping into the darkness on the other side of the house. A few minutes later Ham Cage strolled into sight, saw Polly, and sullenly dropped on the stone steps as far away from her as possible. The little teacher planned a course of action.

"Ham," she said, as she passed, "I want you to run the first set with me.' Ham stared and she was rather startled by his flush.

"Yes'm," he stammered. A moment later young King reappeared at the other end of the porch.

"King," she said, "I want you to run the second set with me," and King too stared, flushed, and stammered assent, while Polly flashed indignation at the little teacher's back. It had been Miss Mary's plan to break up the hill custom of one boy and one girl dancing together all the time and she had another idea as well.

Pleasant Trouble swung into the circle of light from the porch just as the first set started, and he sat down on the stone steps to look on. It was a jolly dance. Some elderly folks, too, were there to look on, and a few married couples who, in spite of Miss Mary's persuasions, yet refused to take part. It was soon plain that Polly Sizemore and the little teacher were the belles of the ball, though of the two Polly alone seemed to realize it. Pleasant could hardly keep his eyes off the Mission girl. She was light as a feather, her eyes sparkled, her cheeks grew rosy, her laugh rang out, and the flaming spirit of her was kindling fires of which she never dreamed. Pleasant saw her dance first with Ham and then with King, and he grinned with swift recognition of her purpose. And he grinned the more when he saw that she was succeeding beyond her realization-saw it by the rage in Polly's black eyes, which burned now at Ham and now at King, for Miss Mary soon had no further need to ask either of them to dance--one or the other was always at her side. Indeed the Marquise, without knowing it, was making a pretty triangular mess of things, and Pleasant chuckled unholily-chuckled until he saw things were getting serious, and then his

inner laughing ceased and his sharp eyes got wary and watchful. For first Ham and then King would disappear in the darkness, and each time they came back their faces were more flushed and their dancing was more furious.

Now, Polly was winging arrows of anger at the little teacher, and presently Pleasant rose lightly and with incredible swiftness swung across the floor just as the climax came. From the other side Polly too darted forward. Ham and King were glaring at each other over the teacher's pretty head-each claiming the next dance. Miss Mary was opening her mouth for a mild rebuke when the two boys sprang back, the right hand of each flashing to his hip. King drew first, and Pleasant's crutch swished down on his wrist, striking his pistol to the floor. Polly had caught Ham's hand with both her own, and Ham felt the muzzle of Pleasant's forty-four against his stomach. "Stop it!" said Pleasant sternly. "Miss Mary don't like sech doin's."

So quickly was it on and over that the teacher hardly realized that it had come on and was over. Her bewildered face paled, but the color came back with a rush, and when her indignant eyes began their deadly work Pleasant knew there was no further need of him, and he stepped back as though to escape penalty even for playing peacemaker in a way so rude.

"You-you-you two!" breathed Miss Mary helplessly, but only for a moment. "Give me that gun, Ham. Pick that one up, King." Both she handed to Pleasant, and then-no torrent came. She turned with a wave of her hand.

"You can all go home now." There had been a moment of deadly quiet, but in the mountains even boys and girls do not take such events very seriously; the hubbub and tittering that had started again ceased again, and all left quickly and quietly-all but the teacher, Pleasant, and the two boys, for Polly too was moving away. King turned to go after her.

"Wait a moment, King," said Miss Mary, and Polly cried fiercely: "He can stay till doomsday fer all o' me. I hain't goin' with ary one uv 'em." And she flirted away.

"I am not going to talk to you two boys until to-morrow," said Miss Mary

firmly, "and then I'm going to put a stop to all this. I want both of you to be here when school closes. I want you too, Pleasant, and I want you to bring Lum Chapman."

Pleasant Trouble was as bewildered as the two shamefaced boys-did she mean to have him hold a gun on the two boys while Lum, the blacksmith, whaled them? "Me?-Lum?-why, whut-__"

"Never mind-wait till to-morrow. Will you all be here?"

"Yes'm," said all.

"Go with them up the river, Pleasant. Don't let them quarrel, and see that each one goes up his own creek."

The two boys moved away like yoked oxen. At the bottom step Pleasant turned to look back. Very rigid and straight the little teacher stood under the lantern, and the pallor and distress of her face had given way to a look of stern determination.

"Whew!" he breathed, and he turned a half-circle on his crutch into the dark.

III

MISS MARY HOLDEN was a daughter of the Old Dominion, on the other side of the Cumberland Range, and she came, of course, from fighting stock. She had gone North to school and had come home horrified by-to put it mildly-the Southern tendency to an occasional homicide. There had been a great change, to be sure, within her young lifetime. Except under circumstances that were peculiarly aggravating, gentlemen no longer peppered each other on sight. The duel was quite gone. Indeed, the last one at the old university was in her father's time, and had been, he told her, a fake. A Texan had challenged another student, and the seconds had loaded the pistols with blank cartridges. After firing three times at his enemy the Texan threw his weapon down, swore that he could hit a quarter every time at that distance, pulled forth two guns of his own and demanded that they be used; and they had a terrible time appeasing the Westerner, who, failing in humor, challenged then and there every member of his enemy's fraternity and every member of his own. Thereafter it became the custom there and at other institutions of learning in the State

to settle all disputes fist and skull; and of this Miss Holden, who was no pacifist, thoroughly approved. Now she was in a community where the tendency to kill seemed well-nigh universal. St. Hilda was a gentle soul, who would never even whip a pupil. She might not approve but Miss Holden had the spirit of the pioneer and she must lead these people into the light. So she told her plan next day to Pleasant Trouble and Lum Chapman, who were first to come. Stolid Lum would have shown no surprise had she proposed that the two boys dive from a cliff, and if one survived he won; but the wonder and the succeeding joy in Pleasant's face disturbed Miss Holden. And when Pleasant swung his hat from his head and let out a fox-hunting yelp of pure ecstasy she rebuked him severely, whereat the man with the crutch lapsed into solemnity.

"Will they fight this way?" she asked. "Them two boys will fight a bee-gum o' sucklin' wildcats-tooth and toe-nail." "They aren't going to fight that way," protested Miss Holden. "They will fight by the Marquis of-er-Somebody's rules." She explained the best she could the intervals of action and of rest, and her hearers were vastly interested.

"They can't kick?" asked Pleasant. "No."

"Ner bite?" "No!"

"Ner gouge?"

"What do you mean by 'gouge'?" Pleasant pantomimed with a thumbnail crooked on the outer edge of each eye-socket.

"No!" was the horrified cry. "Jest a square, stand-up and knockdown fight?"

"Yes," she said reluctantly but bravely. "Lum will be timekeeper and referee to make them break away when they clinch." When she explained that Pleasant scratched his head.

"They can't even wrassle?" Miss Holden understood and did not correct. "They can't even wrassle. And you and I will be the seconds."

"Seconds-whut do we do?"

"Oh, we-we fan them and--and wash off the blood," she shivered a little in spite of herself. Pleasant smiled broadly.

"Which one you goin' to wash off?"

"I-I don't know." Pleasant grinned. "Well, we better toss up fer it an' atter they git hyeh." She did not understand his emphasis.

"Very well," she assented carelessly. Up the road came Ham Cage now, and down the road came King Camp-both with a rapid stride. Though both had sworn to shoot on sight, they had kept away from each other as they had promised, and now without speaking they glowered unwinking into each other's eyes. Nor did either ask a question when the little teacher, with two towels over one arm, led the way down the road, up over a little ridge, and down to a grassy hollow by the side of a tinkling creek. It was hard for the girl to believe that these two boys meant to shoot each other as they had threatened, but Pleasant had told her they surely would, and that fact held her purpose firm. Without a word they listened while she explained, and without a word both nodded assent— nor did they show any surprise when the girl repeated what she had told Pleasant Trouble and Lum Chapman.

"Jes' a plain ole square, stand-up an' knock-down fight," murmured Pleasant consolingly, pulling forth a silver quarter. "Heads-you wipe Ham; tails-you wipe King." Miss Holden nodded, and for the first time the two lads turned their angry eyes from each other to the girl and yet neither asked a question. Tails it was, and the girl motioned King to a log on one side of the hollow, and Pleasant and Ham to another log on the other side. She handed Pleasant one of the towels, dropped her little watch into Lum's huge palm, and on second thought took it back again: it might get broken, and Lum might be too busy to keep time. Only Pleasant saw the gritting of Ham's teeth when she took her stand by King's side.

"Take off your coats!" she said sharply. The two obeyed swiftly. "Time!" she called, and the two leaped for each other.

"Stop!" she cried, and they halted. "I forgot-shake hands!"

Both shook their heads instead, like maddened bulls, and even Lum looked amazed; he even spoke:

"Whut's the use o' fightin', if they shakes hands?"

pered:

"That fotched-on woman's got 'em fightin'."

The soldier's face radiated joy indeed, and as unseen spectators the two noiselessly settled down.

'Whur'd they learn to fight this way?" whispered the soldier-the army had taught him. Polly whispered back:

"Git at it, Ham-git at it!" encouraged Pleasant, and Ham got at it. He gave King a wallop on the jaw; King came back with a jolt on the chin, and the two embraced untenderly.

"Break away!" cried the girl. "Lum, make them break!" Lum thrust one mighty arm between them and, as they flailed unavailingly over it, threw them both back with a right-and-left sweep. Both were panting when the girl called time, and the first blood showed streaming from King's nose. Miss Holden looked a little pale, but gallantly she dipped the towel in the brook and went about her work. Again Pleasant saw his principal's jaw work in a gritting movement, and he chuckled encouragement so loudly that the girl heard him and looked around indignantly. It was inevitable that the seconds, even unconsciously, should take sides, and that point was coming fast. The girl did not hear herself say:

"Shift your head and come back from underneath!" And that was what King proceeded to do, and Ham got an uppercut on the chin that snapped his head up and sprinkled the blue sky with stars for him just as the bell of the girl's voice sounded time. Meanwhile, up the road below them came a khaki-clad youth and a girl-Polly Sizemore and one of her soldier lovers who was just home on a furlough. Polly heard the noises in the hollow, cocked an ear, put her finger on her lips, and led the way to the top of the little ridge whence she could peak over. Her amazed eyes grew hot seeing the

"She's a-larnin' 'em." The khaki boy gurgled his joy and craned his neck. "Whut they fightin' about?" Polly flushed and turned her face.

"I-er-I don't know." The soldier observed neither her flush nor her hesitation, for King and Ham were springing forward for another round; he only muttered his disgust at their awkwardness and their ignorance of the ring in terms that were strange to the girl by his side.

"The mutts, the cheeses, the pore dawgs-they don't know how to guard an' they ain't got no lefts."

Pleasant was advising and encouraging his principal now openly and in a loud voice, and Ham's face began to twist with fury when he heard the Mission girl begin to spur on King. With bared teeth he rushed forward and through the wild blows aimed at him, got both underholds, and King gave a gasping grunt as the breath was squeezed quite out of him.

"Break!" cried the girl. Lum tugged at the locked hand and wrist behind King's back and King's hands flew to Ham's throat. "Break! Break!" And Lum had literally to tear them apart.

"Time!" gasped the girl. She was on the point of tears now, but she held them back and her mouth tightened-she would give them one more round anyhow. When the battling pair rose Pleasant lost his head. He let loose a fox-hunting yell. He forgot his duty and the rules; he forgot the girl-he forgot all but the fight.

"Let 'em loose!" he yelled. "Git at it, boys! Go fer him, Ham-whoopee-ee!" The girl was electrified. Lum began cracking the knuckles of his huge fingers. Polly and the soldier rose to their feet. That little dell turned eons back. The people there wore skins and two cavemen who had left their clubs at home fought with all the other weapons they had. The Mission girl could never afterward piece out the psychology of