"He must be smarter than the others before him."

"Wal, he's not afeared o' ther revenues, an' he's a mystery to ther men
ez works fer him right along."

"A mystery?"

"Yes."

"How so?"

"None o' them has seen his face, an' they don't know Who he is. They
ain't been able to find out."

"And they have tried?"

"Wal, Con Bean war shot through ther shoulder fer follerin' Muriel, an'
Bink Mower got it in ther leg fer ther same trick."

"I rather admire this Muriel," laughed Frank. "He may be in unlawful
business, but he seems to be a dandy."

"He keeps five stills runnin' all ther time, an' he has a way o' gittin'
ther stuff out o' ther maountings an' disposin' of it. But I'm talkin'
too much, as Wade would say."

"Who is Wade?"

"He's Wade Miller, a partic'lar friend o' our'n sence Rufe war tooken by
ther revenues. Wade has been good to mammy an' me."

"I don't blame him. If I lived near, I might try to bother Wade
somewhat."

She glanced at him swiftly. It was now duskish, but he was so near that
he could see her eyes through the twilight.

"I dunno what you-uns means," she said, slowly, her voice falling. "Wade
would be powerful bad to bother. He's ugly sometimes, an' he's jellus o'
me."

"Then Wade is paying attention to you?"

"Wal, he's tryin' ter, but I don't jes' snuggle ter him ther way I might
ef I liked him right. Thar's something about him, ez I don't edzac'ly
like."

"That makes it rather one-sided, and makes me think all the more that I
should try to bother him if I lived near. Do you know, Miss Kenyon, that
you are an exceptionally pretty girl?"

"Go 'long! You can't stuff me! Why, I've got red hair!"

"Hair that would make you the envy of a society belle. It is the
handsomest hair I ever saw."

"Now you're makin' fun o' me, an' I don't like that."

She drew away as if offended, and he leaned toward her, eager to
convince her of his sincerity.

"Indeed, I am doing nothing of the sort," he protested. "The moment I
saw you to-day I was struck by the beauty of your hair. But that is not
the only beautiful feature about you, Miss Kenyon. Your mouth is a
perfect Cupid's bow, and your teeth are like pearls, while you have a
figure that is graceful and exquisite."

She caught her breath.

"Never nobody talked to me like that afore," she murmured. "Round har
they jes' say, 'Kate, you'd be a rippin' good looker ef it warn't fer
that red hair o' yourn.' An' they've said it so much