“There should be a law against carrying curls concealed,” said he.
By this time they were at the porch, and as they resumed the family exchange of items of interest from each side, Steve and Nancy sitting on the steps as in the old days, he saw the fair dream-structure of the past few weeks in the beginning of complete realization.
In the evening as Mr. and Mrs. Follet, Steve and Nancy sat again on the porch enjoying the night air after a warm day, they talked interestedly of old times and the changes which had taken place. Steve found that Crosscut, the little flag station over which Mr. Follet presided, had expanded into a small straggling town with a meeting-house, school of uncertain sessions and a thriving saloon.
As they chatted pleasantly a young man turned into the gate and came up the path with a debonair swing that proclaimed him much at home.
“Howdy everybody,” he said jauntily, and Nancy rose with pleasant greeting for him. Then turning to Steve she introduced Mr. Colton to Mr. Langly.
Steve met the newcomer with quiet courtesy, while Mr. Colton responded with cordiality of the “hail-fellow-well-met” 166 type, and immediately seated himself beside Nancy with an air of proprietorship.
Very soon Mr. Follet in the course of conversation turned and addressed Steve by his first name.
“Steve!” exclaimed the visitor. “Didn’t Miss Nancy introduce you to me as Mr. Langly? Are you Steve Langly who visited Louisville with a Mr. Polk some ten or twelve years ago?”
“I am,” said Steve with much surprise.
“Is that so?” returned Mr. Colton with enthusiasm. “Well, I am Raymond Colton!”