The other occupant of the wagon was a man between sixty-five and
seventy, with iron-gray hair, a long, full, gray beard, a
harsh-featured face, and deep-set hazel eyes under bushy,
bristling brows. He was evidently tall, with a spare, ungainly
figure, and stooping shoulders. His mouth was close-lipped and
relentless, and did not look as if it had ever smiled. Indeed,
the idea of smiling could not be connected with this man--it was
utterly incongruous. Yet there was nothing repellent about his
face; and there was something in it that compelled Eric's
attention.

He rather prided himself on being a student of physiognomy, and
he felt quite sure that this man was no ordinary Lindsay farmer
of the genial, garrulous type with which he was familiar.

Long after the old wagon, with its oddly assorted pair, had gone
lumbering up the hill, Eric found himself thinking of the stern,
heavy browed man and the black-eyed, red-lipped boy.



CHAPTER IV. A TEA TABLE CONVERSATION

The Williamson place, where Eric boarded, was on the crest of the
succeeding hill. He liked it as well as Larry West had
prophesied that he would. The Williamsons, as well as the rest
of the Lindsay people, took it for granted that he was a poor
college student working his way through as Larry West had been
doing. Eric did not disturb this belief, although he said
nothing to contribute to it.