"That will be fine!" answered Bethany. "I'm sure he will like it." Lee was somewhat afraid of his tall, dignified guardian. He had a secret fear that he would always be preaching to him, or telling him Bible stories. He hoped that the customers would keep him very busy during the day, and he resolved always to go to bed early enough to escape any curtain lectures that might be in store for him. To his great relief, Mr. Marion proved the jolliest of traveling companions. There was no preaching. He did not even try to make sly hints at the boy's past behavior by tacking a moral on to the end of his stories, and he only laughed when Taffy crawled out of the innocent-looking brown paper bundle that Lee would not put out of his arms until after the train had started. Such long sleigh-rides as they had across the open country between little towns! Such fine skating places he found while Mr. Marion was busy with his customers! It was a picnic in ten chapters, he told one of the drivers. One afternoon, as they drove over the hard, frozen pike, one of the horses began to limp. "Shoe's comin' off," said the driver. "Lucky we're near Sikes's smithy. It's jes' round the next bend, over the bridge." The smoky blacksmith-shop, with its flying sparks and noisy anvils, was nothing new to Lee. He had often hung around one in the city. In fact, there were few places he had not explored. The smith was a loud, blatant fellow, so in the habit of using rough language that every sentence was accompanied with an oath. Mr. Marion had taken Lee in to warm by the fire. "I wonder what that horrible noise is!" he said. They had heard a harsh, grating sound, like some discordant grinding, ever since they came in sight of the shop. Sikes pointed over his shoulder with his sooty thumb. "It's an ole mill back yender. It's out o' gear somew'eres. It set me plumb crazy at first, but I'm gettin' used to it now." "Let's go over and investigate," said Mr. Marion, anxious to get Lee out of such polluted atmosphere. The miller, an easy-going old fellow, nearly as broad as he was long, did not even take the trouble to remove the pipe from his mouth, as he answered: "O, that! That's nothing but just one of the cogs is gone out of one of the wheels. I keep thinking I'll get it fixed; but there's always a grist a-waiting, so somehow I never get 'round to it. Does make an or'nery sound for a fact, stranger; but if I don't mind it, reckon nobody else need worry." "Lazy old scoundrel," laughed Mr. Marion, after they had passed out of doors again. "I don't see how he stands such a horrible noise. It is a nuisance to the whole neighborhood." When he reported the conversation at the smithy, Sikes swore at the miller soundly. Frank Marion's eyes flashed, and he took a step forward.