"Who is he?" demanded Little Jim.

"Promise you won't tell?"

Little Jim hesitated. He did not consider it quite the thing to promise
a girl anything. But he was curious. "Uh-huh," he said.

"Jimmy Hastings!" said Dorothy, laughing at his expression.

"That ain't fair!" blurted Little Jim. "I ain't nobody's beau. Shucks!
Now you gone and spoiled all the fun."

"I was only teasing you, Jimmy." And she patted Little Jim's tousled
head. He wriggled away and smoothed down his hair.

"I can beat you shootin' at tin cans," he said suddenly, to change the
subject.

Shooting at tin cans was much more interesting than talking about beaux.

"I have to help Aunt Jane get supper," said Dorothy, who had been
invited to stay for supper that evening. In fact, she was often at the
Hastings ranch, a more than welcome guest.

Jimmy scowled. Dorry was always helping Aunt Jane make dresses or trim
hats, or get supper. A few minutes later Little Jim was out back of the
barn, scowling over the sights of his twenty-two at a tomato can a few
yards away. He fired and punctured the can.

"Plumb center!" he exclaimed. "You think you're her beau, do you? Well,