waved a slender white hand majestically at the rough surroundings,
laughing in a way that put Boyd Emerson more at his ease. "You are quite
welcome to stay as long as you wish. Constantine objects to my
hospitality, and treats all strangers alike, fearing they may be Company
men. When you didn't arrive at dark, I thought perhaps he was right this
time, and that you had been taken in by one of the watchmen."

"We throwed a Swede out on his neck," declared Fraser, swelling with
conscious importance, "and I guess he's 'crabbed' us with the other
squareheads."

"Oh, no! They have instructions not to harbor any travellers. It's as much
as his job is worth for any of them to entertain you. Now, won't you make
yourselves at home while Constantine attends to your dogs? Dinner will
soon be ready, and I hope you will do me the honor of dining with me," she
finished, with a graciousness that threw Emerson into fresh confusion.

He murmured "Gladly," and then lost himself in wonder at this well-gowned
girl living amid such surroundings. Undeniably pretty, graceful in her
movements, bearing herself with certainty and poise--who was she? Where
did she come from? And what in the world was she doing here?

He became aware that "Fingerless" Fraser was making the introductions.
"This is Mr. Emerson; my name is French. I'm one of the Virginia Frenches,
you know; perhaps you have heard of them. No? Well, they're the real
thing."

The girl bowed, but Emerson forestalled her acknowledgment by breaking in
roughly, with a threatening scowl at the adventurer: