ss-agates. The cattle are
liable to hook her. Canby throwed them long-horns in there on purpose."

"I'm sure of it," Wallie said, grimly. "Yes, I'll watch Aunt Lizzie. But
she isn't worse than Appel, who was over there catching grasshoppers
because he said they were fatter."

"Dudes is aggravatin'," Pinkey admitted. "But," philosophically,
"they're our meal-tickets, so we got to swaller 'em."

As Wallie watched his partner go up the path to the bunk-house he
wondered vaguely what purchase he had to make that was so important as
to induce him to make a special trip to Prouty. But since Pinkey had not
chosen to tell him and Wallie had a talent for minding his own business,
he dismissed it; besides, he had more vital things to think about at
that moment.

It had hurt him that Helene Spenceley had not been over. Obviously he
had taken too much for granted, for he had thought that when she saw he
was in earnest once more and in a fair way to make a success of his
second venture, things would be different between them. He had imagined
she would express her approval in some way, but she seemed to take it
all as a matter of course. She was the most difficult woman to impress
that he ever had known, but, curiously, the less she was impressed the
more eager he was to impress her. Yet her casualness only spurred him to
further effort and strengthened his determination to make her realize
that there was a great deal in him worth while and that some day he
would stand for something in the community.

But somehow he did not seem to make much progress, and now he asked
himself grumpily why in the dickens he couldn't have fallen in love with
Mattie Gaskett, who followed him like his shadow and had her own income,
with wonderful prospects.

He scuffed at the bark on the corral pole with his foot and thought
sourly of the rot he had read about love begetting love. He had not
noticed it. It more often begot laughter, and his case was an instance
of it. Helene Spenceley laughed at him--he was sure of it--and fool that
he was--imbecile--it did not seem to make any difference. There was just
one girl for him and always would be--he was like that and it was a
misfortune.

In time, very likely, he would be a hermit, or a "sour-ball" like Canby;
he would sit at dances looking like a bull-elk that's been whipped out
of the herd, and the girls would giggle at him.

Wallie's mood was undoubtedly pessimistic, and, finally, he trudged up
t