Georgia Cracker who
wear men's boots and hats, we haven't."

"And Mr. Parmlee, your admirer?" suggested Rice. "Hasn't he a mother or
sisters here?"

"Yes, but they don't want to know us, and have never called here."

The embarrassment of the questioner at this unexpected reply, which came
from the faultless lips of Clementina, was somewhat mitigated by the
fact that the young woman's voice and manner betrayed neither annoyance
nor anger.

Here, however, Harkutt appeared from the house with the information that
he had secured two horses for the surveyors and their instruments, and
that he would himself accompany them a part of the way on their
return to Tasajara Creek, to show them the road. His usual listless
deliberation had given way to a certain nervous but uneasy energy. If
they started at once it would be better, before the loungers gathered at
the store and confused them with lazy counsel and languid curiosity. He
took it for granted that Mr. Grant wished the railroad survey to be
a secret, and he had said nothing, as they would be pestered with
questions. "Sidon was inquisitive--and old-fashioned." The benefit its
inhabitants would get from the railroad would not prevent them from
throwing obstacles in its way at first; he remembered the way they
had acted with a proposed wagon road,--in fact, an idea of his own,
something like the railroad; he knew them thoroughly, and if he might
advise them, it would be to say nothing here until the thing was
settled.

"He evidently does not intend to give us a chance," said Grant
good-humoredly to his companion, as they turned to prepare for their
journey; "we are to be conducted in silence to the outskirts of the town
like horse-thieves."

"But you gave him the tip for himself," said Rice reproachfully; "you
cannot blame him for wanting to keep it."

"I gave it to him in trust for his two incredible daughters," said Grant
with a grimace. "But, hang it! if I don't believe the fellow has more
concern in it than I imagined."

"But isn't she perfect?" said Rice, with charming abstraction.

"Who?"

"Clementina, and so unlike her father."

"Discomposingly so," said Grant quietly. "One feels in calling her 'Miss
Harkutt' as if one were touching upon a manifest indiscretion. But here
comes John Milton. Well, my lad, what can I do for you?"

The boy, who had been regarding them from a distance with wistful and
curious eyes as they replaced their instruments for the jo