"Go away--do!" she exclaimed angrily. "I believe you boys jest love
fightin' like dogs."

Jake disappeared to tell and retell the tale to any one who cared to
listen.

Half an hour later Loo, who had climbed the bluff to command the view,
heard the sound of Jack's feet on the wooden bridge. A moment or two
more and the buggy drew up beside her; the schoolmaster bent forward and
spoke, without a trace of emotion in his voice:

"Won't you get in and let me drive you home, Miss Loo?" His victory had
put him in a good humour, without, however, altering his critical
estimate of the girl. The quiet, controlled tone of his voice chilled
and pained her, but her emotions were too recent and too acute to be
restrained.

"Oh, George!" she said, leaning forward against the buggy, and scanning
his face intently. "How can you speak so? You ain't hurt, are you?"

"No!" he answered lightly. "You didn't expect I should be, did you?" The
tone was cold, a little sarcastic even.

Again she felt hurt; she scarcely knew why; the sneer was too far-
fetched for her to understand it.

"Go and put the horse up, and then come back. I'll wait right here for
you."