"I want to go down thar."

Good-humoredly St. Hilda took him, and when Jason looked upon boys
of his own age chipping, hewing, planing lumber, and making
furniture, so busy that they scarcely gave him a glance, St, Hilda
saw his eyes light and his fingers twitch.

"Gee!" he whispered with a catch of his breath, "this is the place
fer me."

But when they went back and Jason put his head into the big house,
St. Hilda saw his face darken, for in there boys were washing
dishes and scrubbing floors.

"Does all the boys have to do that?" he asked with great disgust.

"Oh, yes," she said.

Jason turned abruptly away from the door, and when he passed a
window of the cottage on the way back to her cabin and saw two
boys within making up beds, he gave a grunt of scorn and derision
and he did not follow her up the steps.

"Gimme back my gun," he said.

"Why, what's the matter, Jason?"

"This is a gals' school--hit hain't no place fer me."