By the way, I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name." "My name is Richard Dunbar, and this is my son Barry." "My name is Osborne Howland, of Pittsburgh, and this is my daughter Paula.

In bloomers, as you see, but nevertheless my daughter.

Meet also my friend and partner, Mr.Cornwall Brand." The party exchanged greetings, and spent some moments giving utterance to those platitudes which are so useful in such circumstances, a sort of mental marking time preparatory to further mutual acquaintance.
The girl possessed that striking, dashing kind of brunette beauty that goes with good health, good living, and abundance of outdoor exercise.
She carried herself with that air of assured self-confidence that comes as the result of a somewhat wide experience of men, women and things.
She quite evidently scorned the conventions, as her garb, being quite masculine, her speech being outspoken and decorated with the newest and most ingenious slang, her whole manner being frankly impulsive, loudly proclaimed.
But Barry liked her at once, and made no pretence of concealing his liking.

To her father, also, he was immediately drawn.

As to Cornwall Brand, between whom and the girl there seemed to exist a sort of understanding, he was not so sure.
For half an hour or so they stood by the river exchanging their experiences in these northern wilds, and their views upon life in the wilderness and upon things in general.