Ned was wishing the boy would waken when the old lady arose from the bed and laid him gently down. He stirred uneasily in his sleep and she stood by his side, smoothing his dark hair away from his forehead.
"He favors my side of the family, being dark," she said. "The Stileses are all dark. If one of you boys will sit with him a moment," she added, with mountain hospitality, "I'll get you all a snack. It was a long road over the mountains."
Ned accepted the invitation eagerly and sat down by the child. The face was dark and slender, the eyebrows turned up a trifle at the outer comers.
"Is it Mike III., or is it the prince?" he was asking himself when the boy awoke and sat up in bed with a jerk.
"What's comin' off here?" he demanded, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "What kind of a bum game is this? I want my daddy."
The visitor by the fire laughed.
"He's up in city slum talk," he said. "And he's learned something of
French, too, knocking around with the boys in school."
"I can talk Franch like a native," asserted the boy.
"And what else?" asked the man by the fire.
"Any old thing!" boasted the child. "They keep me at books all the time. I'm glad I'm with grandmother in the hills. Are you my grandmother?" he asked, pointing to the old woman, now bending over the fire.