Lahoma and Wilfred instantly dropped as if shot, at the same time
breaking into unexpected laughter that caused Willock's beard to
quiver sympathetically. Bill Atkins, sour and unresponsive, stood
as stiffly erect as possible, aided no little in this obstinate
attitude by the natural unelasticity of age.

The young man exclaimed boyishly, still smiling at the girl, "We're
friends already, because we've laughed together."

"Yes," cried Lahoma, "and Brick is in it, too. That's best of all."

"_I_ ain't in it," cried Bill Atkins so fiercely that the young man
was somewhat discomposed.

"Now, Bill," exclaimed the girl reprovingly, "you sit right down by
my side and do this thing right." She explained to the young man,
"Bill Atkins has been higher up than Brick, and he knows forms and
ceremonies, but he despises to act up to what he knows. Sit right
down, Bill, and make the move." There was something so unusual in
the attitude of the blooming young girl toward the weather-beaten,
forbidding-looking man, something so authoritative and at the same
time so protecting, at once the air of a superior who commands and
who shelters from the tyranny of others--that Wilfred was both
amused and touched.

"Yes, Bill," said Willock, "make the move. Make 'em know each
other."

"This is Miss Lahoma Willock," growled Bill; "and this"--waving at