more at extraordinary figures. Here, however,
two passers-by, stopping ostensibly to look in the window, but really
attracted by the picturesque spectacle of the handsome young rustic and
his schoolgirl companion, gave Jack such a fright that he hurried
Sophy away again into the side street. "There's nothing mean about that
picture business," he said cheerfully; "it looks like a square kind of
game," and relapsed into thoughtful silence.

At which, Sophy, the ice of restraint broken, again burst into
passionate appeal. If she could only go away somewhere--where she saw no
one but the people who would buy her work, who knew nothing of her past
nor cared to know who were her relations! She would work hard; she knew
she could support herself in time. She would keep the name he had given
her,--it was not distinctive enough to challenge any inquiry,--but
nothing more. She need not assume to be his niece; he would always be
her kind friend, to whom she owed everything, even her miserable life.
She trusted still to his honor never to seek to know her real name, nor
ever to speak to her of that man if he ever met him. It would do no good
to her or to them; it might drive her, for she was not yet quite sure of
herself, to do that which she had promised him never to do again.

There was no threat, impatience, or acting in her voice, but he
recognized the same dull desperation he had once heard in it, and her
eyes, which a moment before were quick and mobile, had become fixed and
set. He had no idea of trying to penetrate the foolish secret of her
name and relations; he had never had the slightest curiosity, but it
struck him now that Stratton might at any time force it upon him. The
only way that he could prevent it was to let it be known that, for
unexpressed reasons, he would shoot Stratton "on sight." This would
naturally restrict any verbal communication between them. Jack's ideas
of morality were vague, but his convictions on points of honor were
singularly direct and positive.

III.

Meantime Hamlin and Sophy were passing the outskirts of the town; the
open lots and cleared spaces were giving way to grassy stretches, willow
copses, and groups of cottonwood and sycamore; and beyond the level of
yellowing tules appeared the fringed and raised banks of the river.
Half tropical looking cottages with deep verandas--the homes of early
Southern pioneers--took the place of incomplete blocks of modern
houses, monotonously a