him? or because he is here?"

The long eyes regarded her curiously. "Why, don't you _know_?
Hasn't--hasn't it _followed_ him?"

"I don't know, I'm sure," said the schoolma'am, calmly facing the
stare. "If you mean a dog, he doesn't own one, I believe. Cowboys
don't seem to take to dogs; they're afraid they might be mistaken for
sheep-herders, perhaps--and that would be a disgrace."

Miss Forsyth leaned back and her eyes, half closed as they were, saw
Weary away down by the door. "No, I didn't mean a _dog_. I'm _glad_
if he has gotten _quite away_ from--he's such a _dear_ fellow! Even if
he _did_--but I never believed it, you know. If only he had _trusted_
me, and _stayed_ to face-- But he went without telling me _goodbye_,
even, and we-- But he was _afraid_, you see--"

Miss Satterly also glanced across to where Weary stood gloomily alone,
his hands thrust into his pockets. "I really can't imagine Mr.
Davidson as being afraid," she remarked defensively.

"Oh, but you don't understand! Will is _physically_ brave--and he was
afraid I-- but I _believed_ in him, _always_--even when--" She broke
off suddenly and became prettily diffident. "I wonder _why_ I am
talking to _you_ like this. But there is something so _sympathetic_ in
your very _atmosphere_--and seeing _him_ so _unexpectedly_ brought it
all _back_--and it seemed as if I _must_ talk to _someone_, or I should
_shriek_." (Myrtle Forsyth was often just upon the point of
"shrieking") "And he was _so_ glad to see me--and when I _told_ him I
never _believed_ a _word_-- But you see, _leaving_ the way he _did_--"