"Yes," said Chip, "she did. The first time she didn't know any better--
and the second time she was hot at me for hinting she was scared. She's
a spunky little devil, all right. She's busy hating me right now for
running the grade--thinks I did it to scare her, I guess. That's all
some fool women know."

"She's a howling sport, then!" groaned Cal, who much preferred the Sweet
Young Things.

"No--I sized her up as a maverick."

"What does she look like?"

"How old is she?"

"I never asked her age," replied Chip, his face lighting briefly in a
smile. "As to her looks, she isn't cross-eyed, and she isn't four-eyed.
That's as much as I noticed." After this bald lie he became busy with
his cigarette. "Give me that magazine, Cal. I didn't finish cutting
the leaves."






CHAPTER III.
Silver.