“Hit shan’t git no further, but hit war jest like Tally Coyle ter do hit, and mebbe the Lord had a hand in hit, too. I cal’late He knew jest how much the Goose Creek school needed a teacher, fer I ain’t ever goin’ back thar agin, Tally. My teachin’ days air over, but my heart hones fer those pore lambs that’s so set on gittin’ larnin’. I want you ter take ’em and teach ’em all you kin. Mebbe next year you-uns kin go back ter Bentville. Hit seems queer they couldn’t hev put up some kind of a shack fer the gals ter stay in. A lot of strong, young fellers like Mart, now, could hev taken holt.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” agreed Talitha, “but it would take money to make it comfortable, and the Bentville folks haven’t any to spare.”

The old man nodded thoughtfully. “Hit’s mighty strange when I’ve heerd thar’s folks livin’ in cities that’s more money’n they can anyways spend. And here’s the mounting boys and gals a-thirstin’ fer the larnin’ they can’t git.” The girl crouched before the fire puzzled over this new problem, while Si Quinn creaked back and forth in the old rocker.

Suddenly it stopped. “I wish you’d git the Book, Tally, over on the chist, and read a spell; you do hit so easy-like.”

Outside, in the wild night, the wind wailed loudly along the wooded ridges of the great hills and hurled itself in angry gusts against the little cabin unnoticed, as Talitha read chapter after chapter in clear, unfaltering tones. The old man looked fondly down at her with a paternal pride. His heart was at peace, for he had bequeathed his life work to younger, more capable hands, and he rested content.

V
AN UNEXPECTED RIVAL

The consternation at the Coyle cabin was great indeed when midway of the next afternoon Talitha appeared, after making the old schoolmaster as comfortable as possible. Although Sam Coyle had given but a grudging assent to his daughter’s return to Bentville, he now loudly bewailed the necessity which prevented her from “gittin’ more larnin’.”

His wrath cooled, however, when he learned that Si Quinn, who was highly esteemed by the dwellers around Red Mountain, had abdicated his place in the Goose Creek school in Talitha’s favour. It was an unprecedented honour, as “gal” teachers were not looked upon favourably among the mountaineers. It being the prevailing opinion that only a man could fill the position with the requisite dignity and severity.

Remembering the tradition, the beginning was an ordeal from which the girl inwardly shrank. She had never felt so helplessly ignorant in all her life, although she had so often smiled with her brother over Si Quinn’s incompetency.

It was soon rumoured that the old man had sent for Talitha Coyle to come home and finish the remaining school months. In the mountains, school begins the first of July and ends the last of December; when the heavy rains and snows make travel well-nigh impossible. For a week the little flock of pupils had been teacher-less, and Talitha was admonished to make all haste to pass the required examination and begin her duties. The county seat was twenty-five miles away, and she made preparations to start for it the very next morning, her father accompanying her. Fortunately, that night Dan Gooch brought word to the Coyle cabin that Mr. Breel, head of the board of examiners, was at the Settlement and would willingly give Talitha an examination if she could be on hand the next morning.