THE MAN FROM GLENGARRY
with the legs tucked neatly into the tops of his boots, she thought he was the trimmest figure she had seen since coming to the country. She took Aleck's hand and shook it warmly, the full admiration in his handsome black eyes setting her blood tingling with that love of conquest that lies in every woman's heart. So she flung out her flag of war, and smiled back at him her sweetest.
"You have a fine team, I hear," she said, as her aunt moved away to greet some of the other men, who were evidently waiting to get a word with her.
"That I have, you better believe," replied Aleck, proudly.
"It was very clever of Ranald to come so near beating you, wasn't it?" she said, innocently. "He must be a splendid driver."
"He drives pretty well," admitted Aleck. "He did nothing else all last winter in the shanties."
"He is so young, too," went on Maimie. "Just a boy, isn't he?"
Aleck was not sure how to take this. "He does not think so," he answered, shortly. "He thinks he is no end of a man, but he will have to learn something before he is much older,"
"But he can drive, you say," continued Maimie, wickedly keeping her finger on the sore spot.
"Oh, pshaw!" replied Aleck, boldly. "You think a lot of him, don't you? And I guess you are a pair."
Maimie tossed her head at this. "We are very good friends, of course," she said, lightly. "He is a
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