ll hungry and the food is in
there." She came on to the fireplace and sat down. "I am hungry, too.
And cold." She looked upon the broad genial face of Hap Smith as upon
the visage of an old friend. "I am not going to be stupid," she
announced with a little air of taking the situation in hand. "I would
be, if I stayed in there and caught cold. Tell them," and it was still
Hap Smith whom she addressed, "to go on with whatever they are doing."

Again she came in for a close general scrutiny, one of serious, frank
and matter of fact appraisal. Conscious of it, as she could not help
being, she for a little lifted her head and turned her eyes gravely to
meet the eyes directed upon her. Hers were clear, untroubled, a deep
grey and eminently pleasant to look into; especially now that she put
into them a little friendly smile. But in another moment and with a half
sigh of weariness, she settled into a chair at the fireside and let her
gaze wander back to the blazing fire.

Again among themselves they conceded, what by glances and covert nods,
that she was most decidedly worth a man's second look and another after
that. "Pretty, like a picture," offered Joe Hamby in a guarded whisper
to one of the recent arrivals, who was standing with him at the bar.
"Or," amended Joe with a flash of inspiration, "like a flower; one of
them nice blue flowers on a long stem down by the crick."

"Nice to talk to, too," returned Joe's companion, something of the pride
of ownership in his tone and look. For, during the day on the stage had
he not once summoned the courage for a stammering remark to her, and had
she not replied pleasantly? "Never travelled with a nicer lady."
Whereupon Joe Hamby regarded him enviously. And old man Adams, with a
sly look out of his senile old eyes, jerked his thin old body across the
floor, dragging a chair after him, and sat down to entertain the lady.
Who, it would seem from the twitching of her lips, had been in reality
wooed out of herself and highly amused, when the interruption to the
quiet hour came, abruptly and without warning.

Poke Drury, willingly aided by the hungrier of his guests, had brought
in the cold dishes; a big roast of beef, boiled potatoes, quantities of
bread and butter and the last of Ma Drury's dried-apple pies. The long
dining table had begun to take on a truly festive air. The coffee was
boiling in the coals of the fireplace. Then the front door, the knob
turned and released from withou