"It's ten years since I went away." The Irishman forged his way through the crowd like a pile-driver, and Frona followed easily in the lee of his bulk.

The tenderfeet watched them reverently, for to them they were as Northland divinities.

The buzz of conversation rose again.
"Who's the girl ?" somebody asked.

And just as Frona passed inside the door she caught the opening of the answer: "Jacob Welse's daughter.
Never heard of Jacob Welse?
Where have you been keeping yourself ?".