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"He must be smarter than the others before him." "Wal, he's not afeared o' ther revenues, an' he's a mystery to ther men ez works fer him right along." "A mystery?" "Yes." "How so?" "None o' them has seen his face, an' they don't know Who he is. They ain't been able to find out." "And they have tried?" "Wal, Con Bean war shot through ther shoulder fer follerin' Muriel, an' Bink Mower got it in ther leg fer ther same trick." "I rather admire this Muriel," laughed Frank. "He may be in unlawful business, but he seems to be a dandy." "He keeps five stills runnin' all ther time, an' he has a way o' gittin' ther stuff out o' ther maountings an' disposin' of it. But I'm talkin' too much, as Wade would say." "Who is Wade?" "He's Wade Miller, a partic'lar friend o' our'n sence Rufe war tooken by ther revenues. Wade has been good to mammy an' me." "I don't blame him. If I lived near, I might try to bother Wade somewhat." She glanced at him swiftly. It was now duskish, but he was so near that he could see her eyes through the twilight. "I dunno what you-uns means," she said, slowly, her voice falling. "Wade would be powerful bad to bother. He's ugly sometimes, an' he's jellus o' me." "Then Wade is paying attention to you?" "Wal, he's tryin' ter, but I don't jes' snuggle ter him ther way I might ef I liked him right. Thar's something about him, ez I don't edzac'ly like." "That makes it rather one-sided, and makes me think all the more that I should try to bother him if I lived near. Do you know, Miss Kenyon, that you are an exceptionally pretty girl?" "Go 'long! You can't stuff me! Why, I've got red hair!" "Hair that would make you the envy of a society belle. It is the handsomest hair I ever saw." "Now you're makin' fun o' me, an' I don't like that." She drew away as if offended, and he leaned toward her, eager to convince her of his sincerity. "Indeed, I am doing nothing of the sort," he protested. "The moment I saw you to-day I was struck by the beauty of your hair. But that is not the only beautiful feature about you, Miss Kenyon. Your mouth is a perfect Cupid's bow, and your teeth are like pearls, while you have a figure that is graceful and exquisite." She caught her breath. "Never nobody talked to me like that afore," she murmured. "Round har they jes' say, 'Kate, you'd be a rippin' good looker ef it warn't fer that red hair o' yourn.' An' they've said it so much
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