fascinate her, and it had been to guard against this, as well as he was
able, that he had spoken slightingly of the whole class. He had
delighted in repeating to her tales belittling them, deriding them, and
she, of course, had quite believed his stories.

But her experience with this one had not justified that point of view,
and the matter largely occupied her thoughts as they walked slowly
through the thickets of a bit of "second-growth" beyond the fire, which,
stopped by the rocky "barrens," was dying out behind them. Her
companion was, to her, an utterly new sort of being, not better trained
in mind alone, but better trained in body than any mountaineer she knew;
doubtless ignorant of many details of woods-life which would be known to
any child there in the mountains, but, on the other hand, even more
resourceful, daring, quick, than mountain men would have been, similarly
placed, and, to her amazement, physically stronger, too!

The fact that he had shown himself more thoughtful of and courteous to
her than any other man had ever been before, made its impression, but a
slighter one. Hers were the instincts of true wisdom, and she valued
these things less than many of her city sisters might, although she
valued them, of course. She looked slyly, wonderingly at him. He was a
very pleasant, very admirable sort of creature--this visitor from the
unknown, outside world. She quite decided that she did not even think
his knickerbockers foolish, after all.

For a moment, even now, she thrilled unpleasantly with a mean suspicion
that he might be a "revenuer," after all, and have done the good things
he had done as a part of that infernal craft which revenuers sometimes
showed when searching for the hidden stills where "moonshine" whisky is
illegally produced among the mountains; but she put this thought out of