I couldn't scurcely believe it. What did he want? What did he say?"

I did not answer. He ran along beside me, still clinging to my sleeve.

"What did he want?" he repeated. "What did he say to you? What did you
say to him? Tell a feller, can't you?"

"I told him to go to the devil," I answered, savagely.

Lute let go of my sleeve.

"You--you--By time, you're stark loony!" he gasped; and collapsed
against the gate post.

I went into the house, up the back stairs to my room, and shut the door.



CHAPTER V


So she was his daughter. I might have guessed it; would have guessed
it if I had possessed the commonest of common-sense. I might have known
that the auto was Colton's. No other machine was likely to be traveling
on the Lower Road at that season of the year. She was the pretty
daughter of whom Dorinda had spoken to Mother. Well, she was pretty
enough; even I had to admit that. But I admitted it grudgingly. I hated
her for her beauty and fine clothes and haughty arrogance. She was the
incarnation of snobbishness.