THE SHEPHERD OF THE HILLS
The big man's face flushed at the general laugh which followed, and he answered hotly, as he swung his axe, "You'd better ask Wash Gibbs; I hear he says he's the best man in these woods."
"I reckin as how Wash can back his jedgment there," said Joe.
"Wash is a sure good man," remarked Buck, "but there's another not so mighty far away that'll pretty nigh hold, him level." He looked significantly to where Young Matt was making the big chips fly.
"Huh," grunted Joe. "I tell you, gentlemen, that there man, Gibbs, is powerful; yes, sir, he sure is. Tell you what I seed him do." Joe pulled a twist of tobacco from his hip pocket, and settled down upon his heels, his back against a post. "Wash an' me was a goin' to th' settlement last fall, an' jest this side th' camp house, on Wilderness Road, we struck a threshin' crew stuck in th' mud with their engine. Had a break down o' some kind. Somethin' th' matter with th' hind wheel. And jest as Wash an' me drove up, th' boss of th' outfit was a tellin' 'em t' cut a big pole for a pry t' lift th' hind ex, so's they could block it up, an' fix th' wheel.
"Wash he looked at 'em a minute an' then says, says he, 'Hold on, boys; you don't need ary pole.'
"'What do you know 'bout an engine, you darned hill billy,' says th' old man, kind o' short.
"'Don't know nothin' 'bout an engine, you prairie
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