to you. I haven't quite figured all your winnings, these six-to-ones
and ten-to-ones and--and all that, take time to unravel. But you,
yourself, stood to lose just three hundred and sixty-five dollars.
Gee! but you cowboys are reckless."

There was more that she said, but Weary did not mind. He had
discovered that he liked to look at the schoolma'am. After that,
nothing else was of much importance. He began to wish he might prolong
his opportunity for looking.

"Say," he said suddenly, "Come on and let's go to the dance."

The schoolma'am bit at her pencil and looked at him. "It's late--"

"Oh, there's time enough," urged Weary.

"Maybe--but--"

"Do yuh think we aren't well enough acquainted?"

"Well we're not exactly old friends," she laughed.

"We're going to be, so it's all the same," Weary surprised himself by
declaring with much emphasis. "You'd go, wouldn't you, if I was--well,
say your brother?"

Miss Satterly rested her chin in her palms and regarded him
measuringly. "I don't know. I never had one--except three or four
that I--er--adopted, at one time or another. I suppose one could go,
though--with a brother."