“Yes, sir, he’d sure have given us wings des de same as angels hev,” he repeated musingly.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE MOONSHINERS AND THE AEROPLANE.

“This is a beautiful country, sis.”

“Yes, indeed,” agreed Peggy warmly.

The two were flying high above the romantic scenery of the Big Smoke Mountains of North Carolina in the Golden Butterfly.  Beneath them lay a wild-looking expanse of country,—­peaks, deep canons and cliffs heavily wooded and here and there bare patches cropping out.

“Let’s drop down on one of those patches and do some exploring,” suggested Peggy.

“All right,” agreed Roy, nothing loath.  The Golden Butterfly was headed downward.

In a few minutes they landed on a smooth spot surrounded by trees.  Leaving the aeroplane, they struck off on a path through the woods.  “Wonder if we can’t find some huckleberries hereabouts,” suggested Roy.

“Oh, yes, lots.  Wouldn’t it be dandy to take home a bucketful by aeroplane!”

“There’s a little hut off yonder, maybe we could get a bucket or something there.”

“Let’s see if there are any berries first,” said the practical Peggy.

From out of the hut shuffled an old woman.  She was a wrinkled and hideous old hag, brown as a seasoned meerschaum pipe and in her mouth was a reeking corn cob.

Her feet were bare, and altogether she was a most repulsive old crone.  She saw Roy and Peggy almost as soon as they saw her.  For an instant she stood looking at them and then raised her voice in a sort of shrill shriek.

Instantly from the woods around several men appeared—­wild-looking, bearded fellows, each of whom carried a rifle.

“What you alls want hyar?” demanded one who seemed to be the leader.

“We were just taking a walk,” explained Roy.

“Wa’al, we all don’t like strangers particlar.”

“So it would seem,” rejoined Roy, with a bold voice, although his heart was beating rather fast.

“How’d you alls get hyar?” was the next question from the inquisitor.

“We flew here,” rejoined Roy truthfully.

But the man’s face grew black with wrath.

“Don’ you alls lie to me; it ain’t healthy,” he said.

“I’m not in the habit of doing so.”

“But you said you flew hyar.”

“Well, we did.”

“See hyar, young stranger, you jes’ tell me the truth ’bout how you came or by the eternal I’ll make it hot fer you.”

“I can only show you that I’m speaking nothing but the truth,” rejoined the boy; “if you’ll come with me I’ll show you what we flew here in.”

The man glanced at him suspiciously.  It was plain that he feared a trap of some sort.  His eyes were wild and shifty as a wolf’s.

“Ain’t you frum the guv-ment?” he asked.

“I don’t know just what you mean.”