his heart.

Then the chapel emptied, each boy on breakfast bent. "Cop" Billings
still remained at the Indian's elbow, but at the door one or two of
the masters stopped to greet the new arrival, and a tall, remarkably
handsome lad waited, apparently to speak. He was a boy that anyone would
pick from a crowd of fifty--straight, well-built, with fine, strong,
thin hands, and a face with contradictory eyes, for they twinkled and
danced as if nothing so serious as thoughtfulness ever disturbed them.
As the two boys approached him he stepped impulsively forward, extending
his hand to Shag with the words, "May I shake hands with you and say
hello?"

"Thank you;" replied Shag; "the way you boys are treating me makes me
feel less strange."

"Oh, no one feels strange here," laughed the handsome boy. "You must try
and like us. So you're from Manitoba, are you?"

"Yes, Red River," answered Shag.

"Father's been up there, and grandfather, too," said the other, falling
in step with the two boys on their way to the dining-room. "Come up to
my ranch some time soon--to-night if you like. Cop will bring you," he
added with a parting nod, as he left them for his own table at the other
side of the room.

Cop stared hard at his companion. "Thunderation!" he blurted, "but
you're the lucky kid!"