with no waiter to guide her, the girl advanced hesitatingly and took a
seat opposite the two men already present. They glanced up, curiously
interested, staring at her a moment, and then resumed their interrupted
meal. Miss McDonald's critical eyes surveyed the unsavory-looking
food, her lips slightly curving, and then glanced inquiringly toward
the men. The one directly opposite was large and burly, with iron-gray
hair and beard, about sixty years of age, but with red cheeks and
bright eyes, and a face expressive of hearty good nature. His clothing
was roughly serviceable, but he looked clean and wholesome. The other
was an army lieutenant, but Molly promptly quelched her first
inclination to address him, as she noted his red, inflamed face and
dissipated appearance. As she nibbled, half-heartedly, at the
miserable food brought by a slovenly waiter, the two men exchanged
barely a dozen words, the lieutenant growling out monosyllabic answers,
finally pushing back his chair, and striding out. Again the girl
glanced across at the older man, mustering courage to address him. At
the same moment he looked up, with eyes full of good humor and kindly
interest.

"Looks rather tough, I reckon, miss," waving a big hand over the table.
"But you 'll have ter git used to it in this kentry."

"Oh, I do not believe I ever could," disconsolately. "I can scarcely
choke down a mouthful."

"So I was noticin'; from the East, I reckon?"

"Yes; I--I came last night, and--and really I am afraid I am actually
homesick already. It--it is even more--more primitive than I supposed.
Do--do you live here--at Ripley?"