happen from, anyhow? How'd you-all git here?"

"I came over the bluff by the path," answered the other. "You see, I
left the train from the south at White's Crossing because I knew I could
drive up from there by the river road quicker than I could go by rail
away around through the hills to Thompsonville, and then make the drive
down the river from there. When I reached Elbow Rock, I was in such a
hurry, I took the short cut, while the man with my trunk and things went
by the road over Schoolhouse Hill, you know. I arrived here just as this
gentleman was pulling you from the water."

Before Brian could speak, Judy returned with excitement: "I know who
you-all be now. I ought ter knowed the minute I set eyes on you. You-all
are the gal with that there no-'count name, an' you've come ter work for
him, there,"--she pointed to Brian,--"a-helpin' him ter write his book,
what ain't his'n no more, nohow, 'cause he done throwed hit away,--plumb
inter the river."

"I am Miss Williams," returned the other. "My 'no-'count name,' I
suppose, is Betty Jo." She laughed kindly. "Perhaps it won't seem so
'no'count' when we are better acquainted, Judy. Won't you run along to
the house, and change to some dry clothes? You will catch your death of
cold if you stand here like this."

"How'd you-all know I was Judy?"

"Why, Auntie Sue wrote me about you, of course."

"An' you knowed me 'cause I'm so all crooked an' ugly, I reckon," came
the uncompromising return.