“You are very kind,” said Bart.

“And by the way.” pursued Mr. Wade, “I heard a little story:  the Judge has a very beautiful daughter,” looking directly at Bart, who bowed to this also.  “It seems that the girl in going home from somewhere, got lost in the woods, and wandered off into a devil of a big forest there is down there, covering two or three townships.  It was in the night of that awful storm in April, and she went miles away, and finally overcome, lay down to die, and was covered with the snow, when a young chap found her—­God knows how—­took her up, carried her across the Chagrin River, or one of its branches, in under some rocks, built a fire, and brought her to, and finally got her to a man’s house in the woods, sent word to her father, and went off.  Do you know anything about it?  The story is, that you are the chap who did it.”

All eyes were on Bart.

“I heard something of it,” said he, smiling.  “I came off the evening after this marvel; and in the stage two ladies were full of it.  They made it a little stronger than your version.  I think there were several wild animals in theirs.  We stopped at a tavern two or three miles on, when somebody told the old lady that I was ’the chap that did it;’ but as I had told her that this Bart wasn’t much of a fellow, she was inclined to doubt her informant.  The old lady stopped in Chardon, and you must have heard her story.”

“The young lady herself said that you saved her,” said Wade, with his usual directness.  “What do you say to that?”

“If the young lady was in a condition to know,” replied Bart, “I should take her word for it.”  And passing into the back room he closed the door.

“What the devil is there in it?” said Wade.  “It is just as I say.  Has he ever said a word about it?”

“Not a word,” said the young men.

“I met Miss Markham a year ago, when I was in Newbury, at a sugar party,” said Ranney.  “She is one of the most beautiful girls I ever saw, and superior in every way.  Bart was not there—­he wouldn’t go; and I remember her talking about him, with Henry.  When we got back we undertook to tell him what she said, and he wouldn’t hear a word.”

“The fact is,” said Case, decidedly, “her father is rich, and she is proud and ambitious.  Bart wasn’t good enough for her, and he has taken his revenge by saving her life, and now he won’t yield an inch.”

“They say he came off and won’t have anything to do with them,” said Wade.

“That’s it,” said Case, “and I glory in his spunk.  They have just found out their mistake.”

During the day Bart was asked by Wade if he had yet seen Mr. Windsor; and replied that he had not, but that he was anxious to do so, as his brother always spoke of him with gratitude, as one who had been very kind to him.  Mr. Wade said that the day before he had seen Windsor, who expressed a wish to meet Henry’s brother, and thought he would come to Jefferson in a day or two, when he would call on him.  Bart was much gratified, and remarked that he was doing quite a business on his brother’s popularity.