tled."

"Thank you," responded Lyddy, non-committally.

But 'Phemie giggled "How nice!" and watched the red flow into the young
fellow's face with wicked appreciation.

The roads certainly had not "settled" after the winter frosts, if this one
they were now climbing was a proper sample. 'Phemie and Lyddy held on with
both hands to the smooth board which served for a seat to the springless
wagon--and they were being bumped about in a most exciting way.

'Phemie began to wonder if Lucas was not quite as much amused by their
unfamiliarity with this method of transportation as she was by his
bashfulness and awkward manners. Lyddy fairly wailed, at last:

"Wha--what a dread--dreadful ro-o-o-ad!" and she seized Lucas suddenly by
the arm nearest to her and frankly held on, while the forward wheel on her
side bounced into the air.

"Oh, this ain't bad for a mountain road," the young farmer declared,
calmly.

"Oh, oh!" squealed 'Phemie, the wheel on her side suddenly sinking into
a deep rut, so that she slid to the extreme end of the board.

"Better ketch holt on me, Miss," advised Lucas, crooking the arm nearest
'Phemie. "You city folks ain't useter this kind of travelin', I can see."

But 'Phemie refused, unwilling to be "beholden" to him, and the very next
moment the ponies clattered over a culvert, through which the brown flood
of a mountain stream spurted in such volume that the pool below the road
was both deep and angry-looking.

There was a washout gullied in the road here. Down went the wheel on
'Phemie's side, and with the lurch the young girl lost her insecure hold
upon the plank.

With a screech she toppled over, plunging sideways from the wagon-seat,
and as the hard-bitted ponies swept on 'Phemie dived into the
foam-streaked pool!

CHAPTER VI

NEIGHBORS

Lucas Pritchett was not as slow as he seemed.

In one motion he drew in the plunging ponies to a dead stop, thrust the
lines into Lyddy's hands, and vaulted over the wheel of the farm wagon.

"Hold 'em!" he commanded, pulling off the long, snuff-colored overcoat.
Flinging it behind him he tore down the bank and, in his high boots, waded
right into the stream.

Poor 'Phemie was beyond her depth, although she rose "right side up" when
she came to the surface. And when Lucas seized her she had sense enough
not to struggle much.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she moaned. "The wa--water is s-so cold!"

"I bet ye it is!" agreed the young fellow, and gather