preparing for the feast and merry-making Delia moved doing her own share. She set her face as firmly against the sly looks as against the pointed hints of the men and women who would have been glad to see her showing what she could do in the way of "matching men" as the game was called. She would not smile on the ardent attentions of Macrado, and she faced down the gayest of the sports, who was gallant till Delia's scorn drove him in confusion from the scene, surprised that a river girl could resist him.
All these affairs were but introductory to the day of the barbecue, which fell upon a Thursday. In the morning another cabin-boat drifted into the foot of the eddy and floated up the line, looking for a place to tie in. A stranger sport was at the sweeps, handling them, but not so the man who sat on a chair against the cabin telling the soft-paw what to do and where to land in.
"Sho!" Mrs. Mahna exclaimed, "I know that feller; where'd I see him?"
"Of course you know him," Delia whispered in a low voice. "That's White Collar Dan—Rubert Gost—the man you've been talking and thinking about—the man you dropped down to save me from."
"I'll shoo 'im out," Mrs. Mahna declared, emphatically. "I'll have the boys—they'll"
"No! Don't!" Delia shook her head. "You
