conveyed while she held the deed. At one point she took a
pen and crossed a _t_; otherwise the work of Wright and Fitch was
approved. When she had signed her name, and while Dan was filling in the
certificate, she scrutinized him closely.

"You're in Mr. Fitch's office, are you?" she inquired.

"Not now; but I was there for a time. I happened to call on Mr. Fitch
this evening and he asked me to bring the deed over."

"Let me see, I don't believe I know any Harwoods here."

"I haven't been here long enough to be known," answered Dan, looking up
and smiling.

Mrs. Owen removed her hat and tossed it on a little stand, as though
hats were a nuisance in this world and not worthy of serious
consideration. She continued her observation of Dan, who was applying a
blotter to his signature.

"I'll have to take this to my office to affix the seal. I'm to give it
to Mr. Wright in the morning for recording."

"Where is your office, Mr. Harwood?" she asked flatly.

"Boordman Building," answered Dan, surprised to find himself
uncomfortable under her direct, penetrating gaze.

"Humph! So you're Morton Bassett's young man who was written up in the
'Advertiser.'"

"Mr. Bassett has given me a chance to read law in his office. He's a
prominent man and the 'Advertiser' chose to put its own interpretation
on his kindness to me. That's all," answered Dan with dignity.

"Sit still a minute. I forget sometimes that all the folks around here
don't know me. I didn't mean to be inquisitive, or disagreeable; I was
just looking for information. I took notice of that 'Advertiser's' piece
because Mr. Bassett married my niece, so I'm naturally interested in
what he does."

"Yes, Mrs. Owen, I understand."

Dan had heard a good deal about Mrs. Sally Owen, in one way or another,
and persuaded now, by her change of tone, that she had no intention of
pillorying him for Bassett's misdeeds, he began to enjoy his unexpected
colloquy with her. She bent forward and clasped her veined, bony hands
on the table.

"I'm glad of a chance to talk to you. It's providential, your turning up
this way. I just came to town yesterday and Edward Thatcher dropped in
last night and got to talking to me about his boy."

"Allen?"

Dan was greatly surprised at this turn of the conversation. Mrs. Owen's
tone was wholly kind, and she seemed deeply in earnest.

"Yes, I mean Allen Thatcher. His father says he's taken a great shine to
you. I hardly know the boy, b