on's curiosity, evidently, he changed the
subject somewhat abruptly, and turned grandiosely to Miss 'Lethe.

"May I offuh you my ahm, ma'am, for a little stroll about heah?" he
inquired. "The greatest disadvantage which I see about this country is
the lack of level places big enough to put a race-track in, ma'am. So
far as I can see from lookin' round me, casual like, you couldn't run a
quahtuh, heah, without eitheh goin' up a hill or comin' down one."

"_Isn't_ it rough!" said Barbara, with a gesture of aversion which
seemed a bit affected.

Holton looked at her with what was plainly admiration. It was clear
enough that, in a way, he was fond of his showy daughter. He ran his eye
with satisfaction over her costume, from head to foot, and nodded.

"You ain't never seen much of rough life, now have you, Barbara?" He
turned, then, to Miss Alathea. "These young folks, raised the way we
raise 'em, nowadays, get thinkin' that the whole world has been
smoothed out for their treadin'--an' they ain't far wrong. We _do_
smooth out the world for 'em. Now, there's your nephew, Frank; he--"

"Oh, he _likes_ it, here, as I have said," she answered.

"But it is so--_uncouth_" said Barbara, plainly for the benefit of one
or two admiring youths from the surveying party, who were standing near.
"And some of the people look so absolutely vicious--some of the natives,
I mean, of course, you know. Now look at that young fellow, over there!"

The girl had nodded toward Joe Lorey, who was standing not far off,
observing them with an unwavering and disapproving, almost definitely
hostile stare.

"He looks," the girl went on, "as if he hated us and would be glad to do
us harm. So violent!"

"He's from up the mountains," one of the young engineers said, glancing
toward him. "It's funny how those mountain people _all_ hate us. You
see, they say, the hills around about here are all full of moonshiners
and they believe the coming of the railroad will bring with it law and
order and that when that comes, of course, their living will be gone."

"Moonshiners?" said Barbara. "Pray, what are moonshiners?"

Her father grimly smiled again. He knew that she knew quite as well what
moonshiners were as any person in the group, but her affected ignorance
of rough things and rough men amused him.

"Distillers of corn whisky who refuse to pay their taxes to the
government," the youth replied. "The revenue officials have had dreadful
times with the