ith shop.

"Why, if there isn't Mr. Clark!" she exclaimed, and the smith looked
up, grinned, dropped his tongs, and came toward them, wiping his hand
on his smudgy apron.

"Hello, Joan!" he called out. "You're a bit bigger'n you used to be,
when I made iron rings for you."

"Oh, Smuts," she laughed happily, stepping to meet him, "do you know I
still have one, and that it's in my jewel case, among my most precious
possessions?"

She held out her white, clean hand, and he almost seized it in his
grimy, fist, then drew her back.

"'Most forgot!" he declared. "I reckon I'd muss that up some if I took
it in my fist."

"Then muss it," she laughed. "You weren't always so particular." And
he grabbed, held, and patted the hand that he had known in its
childhood.

"Why, little Joan," he growled, with a suspicious softness in his
voice, "you ain't changed none since you used to sit on the end of
that old-fashioned forge, dirty up your pinafores, and cry when Bully
led you off. Him and me ain't friends no more, so's you could notice.
Seven years now since I hit him for cussin' me for somethin' that
wa'n't my fault! But, by gee whiz, old Bully Presby could go some! We
tipped an anvil over that day, and wrecked a bellows before they
pulled us off each other. I've always wondered, since then which of us
is the better man!"

He spoke with such an air of regret that Joan and Dick laughed
outright, and in the midst of it a shadow came across their own, and
they turned to meet the amused, complacent stare of Bill. In
acknowledging the introduction, Joan felt that his piercing eyes were
studying her, probing her soul, as appraisingly as if seeking to lay
her appearance and character bare. His harsh, determined face suddenly
broke into a wondrous warmth of smile, and he impulsively seized her
hand again.

"Say," he said, "you'll do! You're all right!"

And she knew intuitively that this giant of the hills and lonely
places had read her, with all her emotions and love, as he would read
print, and that, with the quick decision of such men, he was prepared
to give her loyal friendship and affection.

They walked slowly around the plant, Dick pointing out their technical
progress as they went, and she still further gained Bill's admiration
in the assay-house when she declared that she had a preference for
another kind of furnace than they were using.

"Why, say, Miss Presby, can you assay?" he burst out.

"Assay!" she said. "