That first day some of the leaders had begun to wander and make
trouble. For that reason Trove was walking beside the buckboard in
front of the drove.
"We'll stop to-night on Cedar Hill," said the boss, about
mid-afternoon. "Martha Vaughn has got the best pasture and the
prettiest girl in this part o' the country. If you don't fall in
love with that girl, you ought t' be licked."
Now Trove had no very high opinion of girls. Up there in Brier
Dale he had seen little of them. At the red schoolhouse, even,
they were few and far from his ideal. And they were a foolish lot
there in Hillsborough, it seemed to him--all save two or three who
were, he owned, very sweet and beautiful; but he had seen how they
tempted other boys to extravagance, and was content with a sly
glance at them now and then.
"I don't ever expect to fall in love," said Trove, confidently.
"Wal, love is a thing that always takes ye by surprise," the other
answered. "Mrs. Vaughn is a widow, an' we generally stop there the
first day out. She's a poor woman, an' it gives her a lift."
They came shortly to the little weather-stained house of the widow.
As they approached, a girl, with arms bare to the elbow, stood
looking at them, her hand shading her eyes.
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