Grace said she did. She wondered, too, what the other daughter was like. Her wonder in this direction was gratified before she had been back from her brief journey twenty minutes. While telling their companions of the mountaineer's wife and family and the appearance of the woman and children, a figure rose up from behind a bush and stood curiously regarding the Overland party. Washington discovered the newcomer and began to chatter and point. "Don't shoot. It's a woman," cried Emma. "No one is going to shoot," retorted Hippy hopelessly. By this time all the girls were on their feet, gazing at the head and shoulders of a young woman showing above the bush. Her full cheeks and lips were red, and the black, straight hair hanging down her back reminded the Overlanders of Indian squaws they had seen in their journey over the Old Apache Trail. It was the caller's eyes, however, that attracted the most attention. They were large, black and full, and one felt that they were capable of blazing. "Won't you come in, Miss?" urged Miss Briggs. "May I ask your name?" she added, as the girl, whom she judged was not much past twenty years of age, stepped out into the open. "Ah'm Julie." That was the only information vouchsafed by the caller, and the only words she spoke for nearly the entire half hour of her stay. The Overland girls plied her with questions, and by a nod in answer to their question learned that Julie was the daughter of the woman they had called on shortly before. They called her by her first name, though now and then Emma would address her as "Miss Thompson," which seemed to perplex Julie. "My Paw mebby'll drive ye folks off. He don't like no strangers in these parts," she finally jerked out. "It will not be necessary. We shall be moving on in a few days," replied Grace. "Paw don't want no strangers," insisted the girl stubbornly. "Spec'ly since he had er gun fight with one o' them. My gosh how them bullets did fly. Paw got one through his stumik and had er right smart trouble with his eatin' fer two days arter that. What you-all doin'?" she demanded, eyeing Nora Wingate, who was making a sweater. "Crocheting, Julie. Knitting, perhaps you call it." "Uh-huh. My gran'ma kin beat you-all knittin'." "Yes?" smiled Nora. "You bet she kin. Why, whad you-all think? Gran'ma takes her knittin' ter bed with 'er and every now and then she throws out a sock. I'll bet a cookie you-all kain't knit like that-away." "You win," chuckled Hippy, and the Overland girls laughed merrily. "I'm going now. Maw said as I'd better come down and look you-all over, cause Paw'll want ter know 'bout you-all. Say! Goin' to the dance?" "When?" questioned Emma, her interest instantly aroused. "Sat'dy night to the schoolhouse over in the holler yonder. Mebby you-all kin help we uns to pay the band." "What? Do you have a band up here?" wondered Anne.