riendly way, as if he had known her all his life; while the men,
to whom such gallant ways were foreign, sat awkwardly by and watched in
wonder and amaze.

Most of all they were astonished at "the Kid," that he could fall so
naturally into intimate talk with this delicate, beautiful woman. She
was another of his kind, a creature not made in the same mold as theirs.
They saw it now, and watched the fairy play with almost childish
interest. Just to hear her call him "Mr. Gardley"!--Lance Gardley, that
was what he had told them was his name the day he came among them. They
had not heard it since. The Kid! Mr. Gardley!

There it was, the difference between them! They looked at the girl half
jealously, yet proudly at the Boy. He was theirs--yes, in a way he was
theirs--had they not found him in the wilderness, sick and nigh to
death, and nursed him back to life again? He was theirs; but he knew
how to drop into her world, too, and not be ashamed. They were glad that
he could, even while it struck them with a pang that some day he would
go back to the world to which he belonged--and where they could never be
at home.

It was a marvel to watch her eat the coarse corn-bread and pork that Mom
Wallis brought her. It might have been a banquet, the pleasant way she
seemed to look at it. Just like a bird she tasted it daintily, and
smiled, showing her white teeth. There was nothing of the idea of
greediness that each man knew he himself felt after a fast. It was all
beautiful, the way she handled the two-tined fork and the old steel
knife. They watched and dropped their eyes abashed as at a lovely
sacrament. They had not felt before that eating could be an art. They
did not know what art meant.

Such strange talk, too! But the Kid seemed to understand. About the
sky--their old, common sky, with stars that they saw every night--making
such a fuss about that, with words like "wide," "infinite," "azure," and
"gems." Each man went furtively out that night before he slept and took
a new look at the sky to see if he could understand.

The Boy was planning so the night would be but brief. He knew the girl
was afraid. He kept the talk going enthusiastically, drawing in one or
two of the men now and again. Long Bill forgot himself and laughed out a
hoarse guffaw, then stopped as if he had been choked. Stocky, red in the
face, told a funny story when commanded by the Boy, and then dissolved
in mortification over his blunders. The Fiddlin