if you decide to sit and look through that gate all night."

"You'll need your pretty dress. Glory ain't much used to escorting
young ladies, but he's a gentleman; we're coming, all right."

It was strange, perhaps, that Glory should miss the chance of proving
his master a liar, but he nevertheless ambled decorously to Dry Lake
and did nothing more unseemly than nipping occasionally at the neck of
the little gray.

That is how Weary learned that large, brown eyes do not look sidelong
at a man after the manner of long, heavy-lidded blue ones; and that,
also, is how he came to throw up his head and deny to himself and his
world that he ever was shy of women.




PART TWO

Weary rode stealthily around the corner of the little, frame
school-house and was not disappointed. The schoolma'am was sitting
unconventionally upon the doorstep, her shoulder turned to him and her
face turned to the trail by which a man naturally would be supposed to
approach the place. Her hair was shining darkly in the sun and the
shorter locks were blowing about her face in a downright tantalizing
fashion; they made a man want to brush them back and kiss the spot they
were caressing so wantonly. She was humming a tune softly to herself.
Weary caught the words, sung absently, under her breath: