CHAPTER VI

ift,furtivelookasshehurriedby.ThiswasonlythesecondtimeshehadeverseenthenotoriousBarneySnaith,thoughshehadheardenoughabouthiminthefiveyearsthathehadbeenliving“upback”inMuskoka.Thefirsttimehadbeennearlyayearago,ontheMuskokaroad.Hehadbeencrawlingoutfromunderhiscarthen,too,andhehadgivenheracheerfulgrinasshewentby—alittle,whimsicalgrinthatgavehimthelookofanamusedgnome.Hedidn’tlookbad—shedidn’tbelievehewasbad,inspiteofthewildyarnsthatwerealwaysbeingtoldofhim.OfcoursehewenttearinginthatterribleoldGreySlossonthroughDeerwoodathourswhenalldecentpeoplewereinbed—oftenwithold“RoaringAbel,”whomadethenighthideouswithhishowls—“bothofthemdeaddrunk,mydear.”AndeveryoneknewthathewasanescapedconvictandadefaultingbankclerkandamurdererinhidingandaninfidelandanillegitimatesonofoldRoaringAbelGayandthefatherofRoaringAbel’sillegitimategrandchildandacounterfeiterandaforgerandafewotherawfulthings.ButstillValancydidn’tbelievehewasbad.Nobodywithasmilelikethatcouldbebad,nomatterwhathehaddone. ItwasthatnightthePrinceoftheBlueCastlechangedfromabeingofgrimjawandhairwithadashofprematuregreytoarakishindividualwithoverlong,tawnyhair,dashedwithred,dark-browneyes,andearsthatstuckoutjustenoughtogivehimanalertlookbutnotenoughtobecalledflyingjibs.Buthestillretainedsomethingalittlegrimaboutthejaw. BarneySnaithlookedevenmoredisreputablethanusualjustnow.Itwasveryevidentthathehadn’tshavedfordays,andhishandsandarms,baretotheshoulders,wereblackwithgrease.ButhewaswhistlinggleefullytohimselfandheseemedsohappythatValancyenviedhim.Sheenviedhimhislight-heartednessandhisirresponsibilityandhismysteriouslittlecabinuponanislandinLakeMistawis—evenhisracketyoldGreySlosson.Neitherhenorhiscarhadtoberespectableandliveuptotraditions.Whenherattledpastherafewminuteslater,bareheaded,leaningbackinhisLizzieataraffishangle,hislongishhairblowinginthewind,avillainous-lookingoldblackpipeinhismouth,sheenviedhimagain.Menhadthebestofit,nodoubtaboutthat.Thisoutlawhappy,whateverhewasorwasn