"Oh, I'm not afraid of him," she thought. "Perhaps he knows I'm
here----"

He was almost up to her. Yes, it was he--the same queer smile lurked
about his face, and he had that indefinable air--was it attractive, or
only different?

"Good morning, Maud Muller," he said doffing that unlimited hat. "I'm
so glad to see you alone."

"Good morning," answered Tavia, "but I am not alone, I just ran away
from my friends; they are over there."

"But not over here. It's all the same. I want to speak to you, and
this is the best opportunity I could have wished for."

Tavia unconsciously picked up a stick. She felt queer, and he looked
queer, so that altogether it was a very queer proceeding.

"I have news for you," the man resumed. "Is not your name Tavia
Travers?"

"Yes."

"Then you must follow my advice closely and you will come into your
own. Are you not from the town of Dalton?"

"I am."

"Then I am right, as I was sure I was from the start. Your father is