oughtfully. "And smile--when
that girl smiles and turns those eyes on you--by George! if she was
taken to New York and put through one of those finishing schools she'd
make a sensation in the swagger set."

Stoddard nodded gravely. He had not Conroy's faith in the fashionable
finishing school; but what he lacked there, he made up in conviction as
to Johnnie's deserts and abilities.

"There she comes now," said Conroy, as the door swung open to admit a
couple of girls with trays of coffee cups. "She walks mighty well. I
wonder where a girl like that learned to carry herself so finely. By
George, she _is_ a good-looker! She's got 'em all beaten; if she was
only--. Queer about the accidents of birth, isn't it? Now, what would
you say, in her heredity, makes a common girl like that step and look
like a queen?"

Gray Stoddard's face relaxed. A hint of his quizzical, inscrutable smile
was upon it as he answered.

"Nature doesn't make mistakes. I don't call Johnnie Consadine a common
girl--it strikes me that she is rather uncommon."

And outside, a young fellow in the Sunday suit of a workingman was
walking up and down, staring at the lighted windows, catching a glimpse
now and again of one girl or another, and cursing under his breath when
he saw Johnnie Consadine.

"Wouldn't go with me to the dance at Watauga--oh no! But she ain't too
tired to dance with the swells!" he muttered to the darkness. "And I
can't get a word nor a look out of her. Lord, I don't know what some
women think!"

CHAPTER XI

THE NEW BOARDER

Pap Himes was sitting on the front gallery, dozing in the westering
sunshine. On his lap the big, yellow cat purred and blinked with a
grotesque resemblance in colouring and expression to his master. It was
Sunday afternoon, when the toilers were all out of the mills, and most
of them lying on their beds or gone in to Watauga. The village seemed
curiously silent and deserted. Through the lazy smoke from his cob pipe
Pap noticed Shade Buckheath emerge from the store and start up the
street. He paid no more attention till the young man's voice at the
porch edge roused him from his half-somnolence.

"Evenin', Pap," said the newcomer.

"Good evenin' yourself," returned Himes with unusual cordiality. He
liked men, particularly young, vigorous, masterful men. "Come in, Buck,
an' set a spell. Rest your hat--rest your hat."

It was always Pap's custom to call Shade by the first syllable of his
second na