“No,” she said, declining his offered assistance; she did not wish to get down; they were going to the postoffice and would call for the meal on their way home.

Young Matt lifted the sack of corn from Brownie’s back and carried it into the shed.  When he returned to the group, Ollie was saying in his thin voice, “In th’ circus I seen in the city there was a feller that lifted a man, big as Jed here, clean above his head with one hand.”

Buck turned to his big friend.  His look was met by a grim smile that just touched the corners of the lad’s mouth, and there was a gleam in the blue eyes that betrayed the spirit within.  The lean mountaineer again turned to the company, while the boy glanced at Sammy.  The girl was watching him and had caught the silent exchange between the two friends.

“Shucks!” said Buck; “Matt could do that easy.”  “Try it, Matt.”  “Try Jed here.”  “Try hit once,” called the chorus.

This time the big fellow needed no urging.  With Sammy looking on, he could not resist the opportunity which Ollie himself had presented.  Without a word, but with a quick tightening of the lips, he stepped forward and caught Jed by the belt with his right hand; and then, before anyone could guess his purpose, he reached out with his other hand, and grasped Ollie himself in the same manner.  There was a short step forward, a quick upward swing, and the giant held a man in each hand at full arm’s length above his head.  Amid the shouts of the crowd, still holding the men, he walked deliberately to the blacksmith shop and back; then lowering them easily to their feet, turned to his engine.

Ollie and Sammy rode away together, up the green arched road, and the little company in the mill shed stood watching them.  As the finely formed young woman and her inferior escort passed from sight, a tall mountaineer, from the other side of Compton Ridge, remarked, “I done heard Preachin’ Rill say t’other day, that ‘mighty nigh all this here gee-hawin’, balkin’, and kickin’ ‘mongst th’ married folks comes ‘cause th’ teams ain’t matched up right.’  Bill he ’lowed God ’lmighty ‘d fixed hit somehow so th’ birds an’ varmints don’t make no mistake, but left hit plumb easy for men an’ women t’ make durned fools o’ theirselves.”

Everybody grinned in appreciation, and another spoke up; “According t’ that, I’ll bet four bits if them two yonder ever do get into double harness, there’ll be pieces o’ th’ outfit strung from th’ parson’s clean t’ th’ buryin’ ground.”

When the laughter had subsided, Buck turned to see Young Matt standing just outside the shed, ostensibly doing something with the belt that led to the burr, but in reality looking up the creek.

“Law!” ejaculated Buck, under his breath; “what a team they’d make!”

“Who?” said Lem, who was standing near by.

“Them mule colts,” returned Buck with a grin.

“They sure will, Buck.  There ain’t two better in the country; they’re a dead match.  I’ll come over an’ hep you break ’em when they’re big ’nough.”  And then he wondered why Buck swore with such evident delight.