ll the impidence, of all the sass, of all the ignorant bums
that ever I----!" She exploded, and stood panting under the strain of
her furious emotions.

But Joan felt she really must assert herself. This sort of reign of
terror must not go on.

"Don't fluster yourself, Mrs. Ransford," she said calmly. "I'll see to
the matter myself."

But she might as well have attempted to stem the tide of the river
that had wrecked her journey as stay the irate woman's tongue.

"But it's him!" she cried. "Him, that low-down scallawag that carried
you in his arms an' walked right into this yere bedroom an' laid you
on your own virgin bed without no by your leave nor nuthin'. Him, as
saw your trunks drownded an' you all mussed up with water, without
raisin' a hand to help, 'less it was to push you further under----"

But Joan was equal to no more. She pushed the well-meaning creature on
one side and hurried out of the house, while the echoes of the other's
scathing indictment died down behind her.

Joan did not hesitate. It was not her way to hesitate about anything
when her mind was made up. And just now she was determined to find out
the real story of what had happened to her. She was interested. This
man had carried her. He had brought her trunks up. And--yes, she liked
the look of him.

But she felt it necessary to approach the matter with becoming
dignity. She was not given much to standing on her dignity, but she
felt that in her association with the men of these parts she must
harden herself to it. All friendships with men were banned. This she
was quite decided upon. And she sighed as she passed round the angle
of the barn.

Her sigh died at its birth, however, and she was brought to a short
and terrified halt. Two prongs of a hayfork gleamed viciously within
three inches of her horrified eyes, and, behind them, with eyes no
less horrified, stood the dark-haired stranger.

CHAPTER XI

THE SHADOW OF THE PAST

The gleaming prongs of the fork were sharply withdrawn, and a pleasant
voice greeted the girl.

"Guess that was a near thing," it said half-warningly.

Joan had started back, but at the sound of the voice she quickly
recovered herself.

"It was," she agreed. Then as she looked into the smiling eyes of the
stranger she began to laugh.

"Another inch an' more an' you'd sure have been all mussed up on that
pile of barn litter," he went on, joining in her laugh.

"I s'pose I should," Joan nodded, he