mighty glad we've got what we've got. And to be glad of what you've
got is a sure way to multiply your property. Every time you brag
on that window, it shines like two windows to me."

Spring came late that year, and in the early days of March, Brick
rode over to the cove behind the precipice after Bill Atkins. "I
want you to come over to my place," he begged, "and answer some of
Lahoma's questions. Being closeted with her in that there dugout
all winter, she has pumped me as dry as a bone."

Perhaps Bill Atkins had had his fill of solitude during that cold
winter--or perhaps he was hungry for another hour of the little
girl's company. Nothing, however, showed his satisfaction as he
entered her chamber. "Here I am," he announced, seating himself on
the bench. This was his only greeting.

"Is it drug or dragged?" demanded Lahoma.

"Dragged."

"Why don't God send me a little girl to play with, after me asking
for one every night, all winter?"

"Don't understand God's business," replied Atkins briefly.

"I puts it this way," Brick spoke up; "God's done sent one little
girl, and it ain't right to crowd Him too far."

"Will I be all they is of me, as long as I live?"