“You wouldn’ dare tech him if one of my brothers was here,” she said, indignantly, “an’ don t you dare tech him again, Tad Dillon.  An you —­” she said, witheringly, “you —­” she repeated and stopped helpless for the want of words but her eyes spoke with the fierce authority of the Turner clan, and its dominant power for half a century, and Nancy Dillon shrank, though she turned and made a spiteful face, when Melissa walked toward the school-house alone.

That afternoon was the longest of Chad’s life—­it seemed as though it would never come to an end; for Chad had never sat so still for so long.  His throat got dry repeating the dreary round of letters over and over and his head ached and he fidgeted in his chair while the slow hours passed and the sun went down behind the mountain and left the school-house in rapidly cooling shadow.  His heart leaped when the last class was heard and the signal was given that meant freedom for the little prisoners; but Melissa sat pouting in her seat—­ she had missed her lesson and must be kept in for a while.  So Chad, too, kept his seat and the master heard him say his letters, without the book, and nodded his head as though to say to himself that such quickness was exactly what he had looked for.  By the time Chad had learned down to the letter 0, Melissa was ready, for she was quick, too, and it was her anger that made her miss—­and the two started home, Chad stalking ahead once more.  To save him, he could not say a word of thanks, but how he wished that a bear or a wild-cat would spring into the road!  He would fight it with teeth and naked hands to show her how he felt and to save her from harm.

The sunlight still lay warm and yellow far under the crest of Pine Mountain, and they had not gone far when Caleb Hazel overtook them and with long strides forged ahead.  The school-master “boarded around” and it was his week with the Turners, and Chad was glad, for he already loved the tall, gaunt, awkward man who asked him question after question so kindly—­loved him as much as he revered and feared him—­and the boy’s artless, sturdy answers in turn pleased Caleb Hazel.  And when Chad told who had given him Jack, the master began to talk about the faraway, curious country of which the cattle-dealer had told Chad so much:  where the land was level and there were no mountains at all; where on one farm might be more sheep, cattle, and slaves than Chad had seen in all his life; where the people lived in big houses of stone and brick—­what brick was Chad could not imagine—­and rode along hard, white roads in shiny covered wagons, with two “niggers” on a high seat in front and one little “nigger” behind to open gates, and were proud and very high-heeled indeed; where there were towns that had more people than a whole county in the mountains, with rock roads running through them in every direction and narrow rock paths along these roads—­like rows of hearth-stones—­for the people to walk on—­the land of the bluegrass—­the “settlemints of old Kaintuck.”