where, it was to be hoped, Slim had recovered from his miseries. And, as
everybody knows, spring is a time that stirs boys and young men to
unrest.

Perhaps you have noticed that when a fellow is just swelling up with a
desire to do something big in the world, some trifling little thing
comes along and knocks his ambition to splinters. When he is burning to
kill a bear, he has to go on an errand for his mother--or something like
that. Well, here was Whitey, with this spring feeling inciting him to
great deeds, instead of making him lazy, as it does some people, and he
went to the bunk house, followed by Sitting Bull. And there was Bill
Jordan, with a letter in his hand, and something on his mind that he was
dying to tell, but would rather die than not take his time about
telling.

So Bill proceeded to peddle out his news, a bit at a time. "John Big
Moose's goin' t' New York," was the first thing Bill said.

"Hooray!" Whitey cried.

"That's a fine way t' take th' news that you're goin' t' lose your dear
teacher," Bill said reproachfully.

"Oh, of course I'm sorry that John is going away, but just think,
there'll be no more lessons," Whitey answered.

"O' course," Bill said, and he looked at the boy in a very peculiar way.

But Whitey was too excited to notice the look. "What's John going for?"
he asked.