The fall in which Abbie was eleven, the entire crowd of young people on the north side of the river was invited to the Mackenzies’. Already there was a social distinction being drawn between the north, or country side, and the south, or town side, of the river. The party was for Belle, who was soon to be married. Belle had planted her rosebush by the log cabin, but the chickens had pecked at it, and the pigs had rooted under it, and no aristocratic gentleman had come by,—only a plain farmer boy who had hired out to Tom Graves.

The young folks came in lumber wagons along the river road under the full moon. The few pieces of furniture were set out of doors to make room for the party, and there were tallow candles lighted and placed high up on shelves. In an iron kettle there was taffy cooking to be pulled later, and platters of pop-corn balls and dishes of maple drops, into which hickory nuts, butternuts, hazelnuts or walnuts had been stirred.

The crowd played dancing games to their own singing and hand-clapping:

“I won’t have none of your weevily wheat,

I won’t have none of your barley,

I won’t have none but the best of wheat,

To make a cake for Charley.”

When the fun was at its height, a horse and rider drew up at the door, and some one called out, “Hey there, . . . you.” The young folks, upon going out to see who it was, found Ed Matthews there with a deer carcass, which he had been pulling behind him with a rope. Ed, who was sixteen now, was dressed in “city” hunter top, a leather looking coat and pants and a cap with a long bill in front. His boots were almost hip-high and fitted snugly to his legs.

When they were crowding around to look at the deer, Abbie first saw the strap drawn taut on its neck. Immediately, she was looking up into the face of Will Deal,—a darkened, flashing face. The young folks all discussed the queer fact of the strap being on the deer’s neck. But Will Deal said nothing. And Abbie, sensing that Will did not want to tell about it, said nothing.

Regina and Louise and Mary Mackenzie all invited Ed Matthews in to the party. He accepted, and immediately became the center of the games and dancing. But for some reason the party was not so pleasant. For some reason, Ed Matthews, in his city hunter togs, had spoiled the party.

When the horses were hitched to the wagons and the young folks were all leaving, Abbie touched Will Deal on the arm.

“It was your little deer, wasn’t it?”

“I ’spose so.”

Something intuitive made Abbie say, “I’m sorry he was the one who shot it.”

Will’s face flashed darkly, “Aw, shucks! . . . I don’t care.”

But Abbie knew that it was not so. Abbie knew that Will Deal cared.