"You needn't tell everything you know," muttered Ted uncomfortably, picking up his treasured can and preparing to depart.
"Oh, I won't tell," promised Betty quickly.
She went back to her weeding, and Ted scuffled off to fish.
"Goodness!" Betty pushed the hair from her forehead with a grimy hand. "I do believe this is the warmest day we've had! I'll be glad when I get down to the other end where the arbor makes a little shade."
She had reached the end of the long row and had stood up to rest her back when she saw some one leaning over the white picket fence.
"Probably wants a drink of water," thought Betty, crossing the strip of garden and grass to ask him, after the friendly fashion of Pineville folk. "I've never seen him before."
The stranger was leaning over the fence, staring abstractedly at a border of sweet alyssum which straggled down one side of the sunken brick walk. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and his straw hat pushed slightly back on his head revealed a keen, tanned face and close-cropped iron gray hair. He did not look up as Betty drew near and suddenly she felt shy.
"I—I beg your pardon," she faltered, "were you looking for any particular house?"
The stranger lifted his hat, and a pair of sharp blue eyes smiled pleasantly into Betty's brown ones.
"I was looking, not for a particular house, but for a particular person," admitted the man, gazing at her intently. "I shouldn't wonder if I had found her, too. Can you guess who I am?"