anger's right eye dropped ever so little. It was the merest of
winks. Yet it was unmistakable. It recalled their morning's meeting.
More, it was the tolerant wink of a superior to an inferior. A wink
that merited a kick? Quite so.

The keen black eyes veered from Racey to the girl. The man removed his
hat and bowed with, it must be said, not a little grace. Miss Dale
nodded coldly. The stranger smiled. It was marvellous how the magic of
that smile augmented the attractive good looks of the stranger's full
face. It was equally singular how that self-same smile rendered more
hawk-like than ever the hard and Roman profile of the fellow. It was
precisely as though he were two different men at one and the same
time.

"Does Mr. Dale live here?" inquired the stranger.

"He does." A breath from the Boreal Pole was in the two words uttered
by Miss Dale.

The stranger's smile widened. The keen black eyes began to twinkle. He
made as if to enter, but went no farther than the placing of one foot
on the doorsill.

"Is he home?"

"He isn't." Clear and colder.

"I'm shore sorry," grieved the stranger, the smile waning a trifle. "I
wanted to see him."

"I supposed as much," sniffed Miss Dale, uncordially.

"Yes, Miss," said the stranger, undisturbed. "When will he be back, if
I might ask?"

"To-night--to-morrow. I'm not sure."

"So I see," nodded the stranger. "Would it be worth while my waitin'?"

"That depends on what you call worth while."

"You're right. It does. Standards ain't always alike, are they."
He laughed silently, and pulled on his hat. "And it's a good thing
standards ain't all alike," he resumed, chattily. "Wouldn't it be a
funny old world if they were?"

The smile of him recognized Racey briefly, but it rested upon and
caressed the girl. She shook her shoulders as if she were ridding
herself of the touch of hands.

The stranger continued to smile--and to look as if he expected a
reply. But he did not get it. Miss Dale stared calmly at him, through
him.

Slowly the stranger slid his foot from the doorsill to the doorstep;
slowly, very slowly, his keenly twinkling black gaze travelled over
the girl from her face to her feet and up again to finally fasten upon
and hold as with a tangible grip her angry blue eyes.

"I'm sorry yore pa ain't here," he resumed in a drawl. "I had some
business. It can wait. I'll be back. So long."

The stranger turned and left them.

From the kitchen window they watc