"They're from up your way, ain't they?"

"Their name's the same as mine," he rejoined uncertainly.

Charity still held him with resolute eyes. "See here, I want to go there
some day and take a gentleman with me that's boarding with us. He's up
in these parts drawing pictures."

She did not offer to explain this statement. It was too far beyond Liff
Hyatt's limitations for the attempt to be worth making. "He wants to see
the brown house, and go all over it," she pursued.

Liff was still running his fingers perplexedly through his shock of
straw-colored hair. "Is it a fellow from the city?" he asked.

"Yes. He draws pictures of things. He's down there now drawing the
Bonner house." She pointed to a chimney just visible over the dip of the
pasture below the wood.

"The Bonner house?" Liff echoed incredulously.

"Yes. You won't understand--and it don't matter. All I say is: he's
going to the Hyatts' in a day or two."

Liff looked more and more perplexed. "Bash is ugly sometimes in the
afternoons."

She threw her head back, her eyes full on Hyatt's. "I'm coming too: you
tell him."