fancy frills, no raving beauty, maybe, but darned easy to look at.

"First thing I done I went in and got a copy of my face made and
rushed it right back at her and then--" He stopped dolefully. "What
d'you think, Ronicky?"

"I dunno," said Ronicky; "what happened then?"

"Nothing, not a thing. Not a word came back from her to answer that
letter I'd sent along."

"Maybe you didn't look rich enough to suit her, Bill."

"I thought that, and I thought it was my ugly face that might of made
her change her mind. I thought of pretty near everything else that was
bad about me and that she might of read in my face. Sure made me sick
for a long time. Somebody else was correcting my lessons, and that
made me sicker than ever.

"So I sat down and wrote a letter to the head of the school and told
him I'd like to get the address of that first girl. You see, I didn't
even know her name. But I didn't get no answer."

Ronicky groaned. "It don't look like the best detective in the world
could help you to find a girl when you don't know her name." He added
gently: "But maybe she don't want you to find her?"

"I thought that for a long time. Then, a while back, I got a letter
from San Francisco, saying that she was coming on a train through
these parts and could I be in Stillwater because the train stopped