o like Mary Hope. She always seemed kinda lonesome and half
scared--"

"She's got over it, then," Tom interrupted, chuckling. "She's got
spunk enough now for two of her size. Had that club lifted, ready to
brain me when I went in, just because I'd spoiled her rules for her.
If she had as much sense as she's got nerve--"

"Why don't they build her a schoolhouse, if they want her to teach?"
Belle pushed back her chair.

"Ever know the AJ to spend a cent they didn't have to?" Duke asked.
"Or old Scotty? The Swede ain't able. How're they paying her? This
ain't any school district."

"So much a head," Tom answered. "Not much, I reckon. The girl's got
nerve. I'll say that much for her. She was dodgin' clods of dirt from
the roof, and shivering and teaching to beat hell when I got there."

"They're going to be awful sore at you, Tom, for this," Belle
predicted. "They're going to say you did it because you hate the
Douglases, and it was Mary Hope teaching. Jim Boyle will side with old
Scotty, and there'll be the devil and all to pay. Did you tell those
kids why you sent 'em home?"

"I told the girl. No, I never told the kids. The Swedes had sense
enough to beat it when she let 'em out for recess. She got fighty over
that, and wouldn't let the school out and wait for good weather, so I
went out and told the Boyle kids to hit for home. Humpin' cats,
_somebody_ had to do something!

"So then the Scotch come out strong in the girl, and I made her go
home too. If I see 'em in that shack to-morrow, and the weather like
it is and like it's going to be, I'll send 'em home again. What in
thunder do I care what old Scotty and Jim Boyle says about it? If
they want a woman to learn their kids to read, they'd oughta give her
a better place than the Whipple shack to keep school in."

"They won't," said Belle. "A roof and four walls is all you can expect
of them. It's a shame. I expect Mary Hope is tickled to death to be
earning the money, too. She was taking music all winter in Pocatello,
I heard, and she and her mother saved up the money in nickels--Lord
knows how, the way old Scotty watches them!--to pay for the lessons.
It's a shame."

"What do they do for water? Old Man Whipple always hauled it in
barrels when he tried to hold down the camp." Al, tilting back his
chair, placidly picking his teeth, spoke for the first time.

"I didn't see no water barrel," Tom answered. "I reckon they make dry
camp. They had a stove that smok