“Go on, Jack; that was good,” Peggy was saying. “It will be such fun to watch a real log house go up. Didn’t the pioneers always help each other?”
“I fancy not when a man was building on land belonging to someone else!”
All of the young people were startled at this new voice which came from behind them, as they faced the tree and Jack. They turned to see a tall, straight man of possibly sixty years, looking coldly upon the scene.
“Count Herschfeld!” exclaimed Jack.
Peggy shrugged her shoulders. “I rather think there isn’t anything of the sort here,” said she.
Dalton tossed aside the ax, which Jack had half unconsciously handed him, and stepped forward. “And who may you be?” he asked quietly, setting his lips firmly as he stopped speaking.
“Introduce us, Peggy,” sneeringly said the older man.
Peggy threw back her head and stepped from beside Sarita toward Dalton. “This is Count Herschfeld, Dalton. Count Herschfeld, this is my friend, Dalton Secrest, who is building on his own land! Miss Elizabeth, Count Herschfeld,—Miss Leslie and Miss Sarita—” Peggy began to be embarrassed with the number of introductions. She was not very old, and Elizabeth put an arm around her, as she stepped forward in great surprise.
“Are you visiting at Steeple Rocks, Count Herschfeld?” Elizabeth inquired, starting to put out her hand, then remembering that his first remark had not been friendly. What could it mean? She glanced at the faces around her. Jack, frowning, was leaning against the tree. Sarita and Leslie had drawn together and were looking at the Count with anything but friendly expressions. It seemed as if they were not as surprised as she.
“You could scarcely call it visiting, Miss Secrest. I conduct Mr. Ives’ business affairs very largely.”