"Go on, tell me more. The monstrosity gets more and more interesting
every minute."
The old man chewed his cigar energetically for a few seconds before
responding.
"I'll tell you the story tonight after supper,--not now. The only
thing I want to make clear to you is this. Everybody in this section
respects her wishes about keeping off of that rock, and I want to
ask you to respect 'em, too. It would be a dirty trick for you to
go up there, knowin' it's dead against her wishes."
"A dirty trick, eh?" said the young man, fixing his gaze on the
blue-black summit of the forbidden rock.
CHAPTER II
THE STORY THE OLD MAN TOLD
David Windom's daughter Alix ran away with and married Edward Crown
in the spring of 1894.
Windom was one of the most prosperous farmers in the county. His
lands were wide, his cattle were many, his fields were vast stretches
of green and gold; his granaries, his cribs and his mows, filled
and emptied each year, brought riches and dignity and power to this
man of the soil.
Back when the state was young, his forefathers had fared westward
from the tide-water reaches of Virginia, coming at length to the
rich, unbroken region along the river with the harsh Indian name,
and there they built their cabins and huts on lands that had cost
them little more than a song and yet were of vast dimensions.
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