"Don't you ever SEE anything, Liff Hyatt?" she assailed him, as he stood
before her with the look of a man who has stirred up a wasp's nest.
He grinned. "I seen you! That's what I come down for."
"Down from where?" she questioned, stooping to gather up the petals his
foot had scattered.
He jerked his thumb toward the heights. "Been cutting down trees for Dan
Targatt."
Charity sank back on her heels and looked at him musingly. She was
not in the least afraid of poor Liff Hyatt, though he "came from the
Mountain," and some of the girls ran when they saw him. Among the more
reasonable he passed for a harmless creature, a sort of link between the
mountain and civilized folk, who occasionally came down and did a little
wood cutting for a farmer when hands were short. Besides, she knew the
Mountain people would never hurt her: Liff himself had told her so
once when she was a little girl, and had met him one day at the edge
of lawyer Royall's pasture. "They won't any of 'em touch you up there,
f'ever you was to come up.
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