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babbling, “My favorite man in the Bible is Mephibosheth.” Chris had stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Are you sure this isn’t a midget you’ve got here, Preacher? Mephibosheth—who in the world is that?”
    “He’s the little lame boy, Jonathan’s son, the one that David was good to,” Missy informed him. “Don’t you like to read the Bible, Christmas?”
    “I used to,” he had muttered, and left the room abruptly.
    Now she was standing beside him, spooning a heap of battered eggs onto his wooden plate.
    “Not so much, Missy!” he said quickly. In spite of his sickly condition, he had a slight smile for the child. “You say you made these hoecakes?”
    “Yes, but Caroline made the jelly. It’s muscadine, and it’s real good!”
    He took a cake, smeared it with the rich jelly, and tasted it. “This is real fine, Miss Caroline,” he said. “You’re a good cook.”
    Caroline had been pouring coffee into Knox’s cup, and he noted the trembling hand and the flush that rose to her cheeks at Chris’s words. Knox looked at her curiously. She didn’t answer Chris, but there was a nervous smile on her lips. Can’t be! Knox thought. This female preacher can’t be falling for a wild man like Chris! But he kept an eye on her as he went on eating, and soon was convinced that it was true. She wouldn’t be the first preacher’s daughter to get silly over a bad apple, Knox reflected. He could think of several cases of such with no trouble.
    Chris picked at his food, seemingly unaware of the conversation around the table; but when he realized that Greene was talking to him, he listened carefully.
    “... a letter from your father last week. He said thatDoucett and Conrad would be passing through—in fact, they got here late yesterday afternoon.”
    “Who are they?” Chris asked idly. He was sitting back in his chair now, allowing Missy to fuss with his hair—“fixing it,” as she called it.
    “Two of the men that work for the company,” Knox spoke up. “They came... after you left.” There was a slight hesitation as he avoided mentioning the circumstances of Chris’s leaving. “Father said he’s going to send them up the Missouri to open new territory.”
    “They better have their scalps on tight,” Greene remarked as he took a huge bite of biscuit and washed it down with a swallow of milk. “Those aren’t tame Indians in that part of the world.” He considered Knox soberly and added, “Far as I can make out, there’s nothing but wild Indians up in that part of the world.”
    “You’re pretty well right on that, but Father says it’s worth the risk. First fur trappers that go in will make a fortune! Guess those two can handle it,” Knox said, shaking his head in admiration. “They’ve traveled everywhere—and done just about everything. Both of them have been all the way up the Missouri and have convinced Father that they know what they’re doing—that we can be the first to set up a trading post there. Wish Father would let me go with them.”
    “I know Lawrence Conrad,” Greene informed him. “We fought together with Paul Winslow in the old days. Conrad was a good seaman. Never thought he’d leave the sea for trapping, but Nathan says the man is one of the best.” Then he added, “They want to see you while they’re here—said for you to come by the tavern tonight.”
    “Sure wish I could go with them up the Missouri, but I know Father’d never let me. Guess that settles it!” Knox grumbled.
    Missy had been standing patiently by Christmas’s chair, waiting for a chance to speak. With a deep breath, she blurted out, “You both are invited to my birthday party—it’stomorrow, and Ma’s going to make me a plum cake.” She paused, then added as an afterthought, “And you can bring presents if you want to.”
    Chris grinned. “Presents? What sort of present would you like, Missy? It’s better if you just come out and say what you want, you know. You’re