"Well! Well! Doesn't take 'em long away from the nursing bottle to get
smarty. Where's your father, Douglas?"

"Home with the toothache," replied Doug, flushed and irritated.

"Did he bring you up to let a stranger come to the house and build his
own fire?"

"No, but it's the schoolmarm's job to build this one," replied Douglas.

"Jimmy Day, you and Doug go in and get that old stove going!" ordered
Grandma.

Both boys dismounted slowly, tied their horses, and amidst a general
chuckle, disappeared into the schoolhouse.

Charleton Falkner, a black-browed rider of middle age, with a heavy black
mustache, turned his horse toward Grandma.

"That's right, Charleton," the old lady went on, "you come over here and
help me off of Abe. I ain't going to stay out here freezing till old
Fowler comes. Riding ain't the novelty to me it seems to be to the rest
of you."

This was the signal for all the grown people to tie up their horses and
enter the building. Shortly Douglas and Jimmy came out, and scarcely had
remounted when the minister rode slowly up over the ledge. He dismounted
at the door and greeted the youngsters. They replied with cat-calls.
Fowler stared at the group of robust young riders, his gray-bearded face