nd square chin added
their testimony to his ungracious disposition.

But Lahoma was not afraid of coyotes, catamounts or mountain-lions, and
she was not afraid of Bill Atkins. Her eyes brightened at the
discovery that he held in his hand that which Willock had described to
her as a book.

"Does he read?", she asked Willock, breathlessly. "Does he read,
Brick?"

Willock surveyed the seated figure gravely. "He reads!" he responded.

The man looked up, saw Willock and bent over his book--discovered
Lahoma on the pony, and looked up again, unwillingly but definitely.
"You never told me you had a little girl," he remarked gruffly.

"You never asked me," said Willock. "Get down, Lahoma, and make
yourself at home."

The man shut his book. "What are you going to do?"

"Going to visit you. Turn the pony loose, Lahoma; he won't go far."

"Haven't you got all that north range to yourself?" Bill Atkins asked
begrudgingly.

"Yap. How're you making it, Atkins?"

"Why, as long as I'm let alone, I'm making it all right. It's being
let alone that I can't ever accomplish. When I was a boy I began my
travels to keep out where I could breathe, and I've been crowded out of
Missouri and Kansas and Colorado and Wyoming and California, and now
I've come to the American Desert thinking I could die in peace, but oh,
no, not ME! I no sooner get settled and made my turf dugout, than here
comes a stranger--"

"Name of Brick Willock, if you've forgot," interpolated Willock
genially. "I'll just light my pipe, as I reckon there's no objections.
Lahoma don't care, and you can breathe all right if you keep with the
wind from you."

The man turned his back upon Willock, opened his book and read.

Lahoma approached the block of wood that supported him, while Willock
calmly stretched himself out on the grass. "Is that a book?" she
asked, by way of opening up the conversation.

The man gripped it tighter and moved his lips busily. As she remained
at his knee, he presently said, "Oh, no, it's a hand-organ!"

Lahoma smiled pityingly. "Are you afraid of me, Atkins?"

The man looked up with open mouth. "Not exactly, kid!" There was
something in her face that made him lose interest in his book. He kept
looking at her.

"Then why don't you tell the truth? WE won't hurt you."

The man opened his mouth and closed it. Then he said, "It's a book."

"Did you ever read it before?"

"This is the third time I've read it."

"