hts as they walked slowly
through the thickets of a bit of "second-growth" beyond the fire, which,
stopped by the rocky "barrens," was dying out behind them. Her
companion was, to her, an utterly new sort of being, not better trained
in mind alone, but better trained in body than any mountaineer she knew;
doubtless ignorant of many details of woods-life which would be known to
any child there in the mountains, but, on the other hand, even more
resourceful, daring, quick, than mountain men would have been, similarly
placed, and, to her amazement, physically stronger, too!

The fact that he had shown himself more thoughtful of and courteous to
her than any other man had ever been before, made its impression, but a
slighter one. Hers were the instincts of true wisdom, and she valued
these things less than many of her city sisters might, although she
valued them, of course. She looked slyly, wonderingly at him. He was a
very pleasant, very admirable sort of creature--this visitor from the
unknown, outside world. She quite decided that she did not even think
his knickerbockers foolish, after all.

For a moment, even now, she thrilled unpleasantly with a mean suspicion
that he might be a "revenuer," after all, and have done the good things
he had done as a part of that infernal craft which revenuers sometimes
showed when searching for the hidden stills where "moonshine" whisky is
illegally produced among the mountains; but she put this thought out of
her heart, indignantly, almost as quickly as it came to her.
Instinctively she felt quite certain that duplicity did not form any
portion of his nature. They had not been traitor's arms which had so
bravely (and so firmly) clasped her for the quick and risky dash across
that terrifying belt of fire!

"No," said she, determined to give him fullest measure of due credit, "I
didn't help you none. I didn't help you none--an' you did what I don't
believe any other man I ever knew could do. I'm--"

Again she paused, again at loss for words, again the quest failed
wholly.

"I'm much obleeged," said she.

Then, suddenly, the thought came to her of that other and less
prepossessing "foreigner" whom, that day, she had seen there in her
mountains. She described him carefully to Layson, and asked if he could
guess who he had been and what his business could have been.
Descriptions are a sorry basis for the recognition of a person thought
to be far miles away, a person unassociated in