"Well," growled Blueskin, "you've had my offer. The boy doesn't know it, but I dug into his trunk for something to identify him and stumbled upon some manuscripts. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. Anna admitted the fact. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. His skill has not been tried. When they started getting on each other’s nerves, she blamed herself at first. A moment more and he would have been crushed beneath the ponderous board, when a slight but strong arm arrested its descent. CHAPTER XII.
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