“Let him go and I’ll tell you about it,” said the Colonel, and when the youngster had disappeared he continued:  “Right after breakfast Noah went with me down to the mill.  I noticed several children playing in front of Reihart’s blacksmith shop.  I went in, leaving Noah outside.  I got a plow-share which I had left with Reihart to be repaired.  He came to the door with me and all at once he said:  ’look at the kids.’  I looked and saw Noah walk up to a boy and say something to him.  The lad was a stranger, and I have no doubt belongs to these new people I told you about.  He was bigger than Noah.  At first the older boy appeared very friendly and evidently wanted to join the others in their game.  I guess Noah did not approve of this, for after he had looked the stranger over he hauled away and punched the lad soundly.  To make it short the strange boy gave Noah the worst beating he ever got in his life.  I told Noah to come straight to you and confess.”

“Well, did you ever!” ejaculated Mrs. Zane.  “Noah is a bad boy.  And you stood and watched him fight.  You are laughing about it now.  Ebenezer Zane, I would not put it beneath you to set Noah to fighting.  I know you used to make the little niggers fight.  Anyway, it serves Noah right and I hope it will be a lesson to him.”

“I’ll make you a bet, Bessie,” said the Colonel, with another laugh.  “I’ll bet you that unless we lock him up, Noah will fight that boy every day or every time he meets him.”

“I won’t bet,” said Mrs. Zane, with a smile of resignation.

“Where’s Betts?  I haven’t seen her this morning.  I am going over to Short Creek to-morrow or next day, and think I’ll take her with me.  You know I am to get a commission to lay out several settlements along the river, and I want to get some work finished at Short Creek this spring.  Mrs. Raymer’ll be delighted to have Betty.  Shall I take her?”

“By all means.  A visit there will brighten her up and do her good.”

“Well, what on earth have you been doing?” cried the Colonel.  His remark had been called forth by a charming vision that had entered by the open door.  Betty—­for it was she—­wore a little red cap set jauntily on her black hair.  Her linsey dress was crumpled and covered with hayseed.

“I’ve been in the hay-mow,” said Betty, waving a small basket.  “For a week that old black hen has circumvented me, but at last I have conquered.  I found the nest in the farthest corner under the hay.”

“How did you get up in the loft?” inquired Mrs. Zane.

“Bessie, I climbed up the ladder of course.  I acknowledge being unusually light-hearted and happy this morning, but I have not as yet grown wings.  Sam said I could not climb up that straight ladder, but I found it easy enough.”

“You should not climb up into the loft,” said Mrs. Zane, in a severe tone.  “Only last fall Hugh Bennet’s little boy slid off the hay down into one of the stalls and the horse kicked him nearly to death.”