"I was a-hankerin' arter experience," he concluded, "an' aimin' to make my everlastin' fortin. I been doin' pretty peart, so fer."

"You've certainly had more than your share of experience in the time," Josephine agreed; "though I don't know about the fortune."

"Started right-smack off at the rate of more'n seventy-five thousand dollars a year," Zeke rejoined, complacently. He laughed joyously at the bewildered face the girl turned to him.

"I done figured hit out las' night, not havin' much of anythin' to do on thet-thar raft, 'cept to stick." He gave an account of the capture of the negro outlaw, for which he had received a reward. "I'm only a-jokin', of course," he went on with new seriousness. "I hain't pinin' fer no foolishness. All I want is enough so's not to be hog-pore. An' I got a chance to learn somethin', an' to make somethin', an', arter all, go right on livin' in my own country. An' that's what Plutiny wants, too. An' I'll have enough to buy her straighteners, if she wants 'em, by cracky!"

"Oh--straighteners?" Josephine repeated, mystified. Vague memories of a visit to a hospital suggested an explanation. "Then, this person you speak of, Plutina, is deformed?"

"Deformed!" For an instant, Zeke could only repeat the word, helplessly.

"A curvature of the spine, I suppose," Josephine continued, without interest. She had her eyes on the ribbon of sand now, and guessed nothing as to her companion's disturbance, until his voice came in a burst of protest that made her jump.

"Plutiny--deformed!" he exclaimed, harshly. Then, his voice softened wonderfully, though it shook with the tensity of his feeling. "Why, Plutiny's better'n anybody else in all the world--she is, an' she looks hit. Plutiny--deformed! Why, my Plutiny's straight as thet-thar young pine tree atop Bull Head Mounting. An' she's as easy an' graceful to bend an' move as the alders along Thunder Branch. There hain't nary other woman in all the world to ekal my Plutiny. Plutiny--deformed! Why, mum, you-all talk plumb foolish."

The girl was too astonished before this outburst to take offense.

"But you spoke about straighteners for her," she protested.

Zeke stared for a moment, then grinned understandingly.

"Thet's what we-uns call 'em," he said. "You-all call 'em corsets."

Yet, the effect of this conversation reached beyond the humorous. In some subtle fashion, it provoked the girl to keener interest in the young man. She was perhaps, though she would have denied the suggestion hotly, a little piqued by the exaltation with which he praised his rustic sweetheart. Josephine was an exceedingly attractive young woman, and she was accustomed to having men show their appreciation of the fact. It was new to her thus essentially to be ignored, and not quite agreeable. There could be no tender interest between herself and this handsome barbarian. The idea even of flirtation was quite inconceivable. Nevertheless, it was strange that he should be so imperceptive of her charms. Doubtless, his eyes were blind to the refinements of beauty. They should be opened. It would be dreadful if the fellow should grow away from the girl who was waiting for him. And yet--Josephine checked her thoughts, and blushed a little. But a plan matured.




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