d
significantly, coming up behind Lance.

"Yes. Coaley acted lonesome, shut up in the box stall. Thought a
little riding would do him good." Lance's eyes met Tom's calmly,
almost as if the two were mere acquaintances.

"You give him a plenty, looks like. Where yuh been?"

"I? Oh--just riding around." Lance stooped indifferently to untie his
slicker and blanket from the saddle.

"Thought I'd like to use him myself. Thinking some of riding into town
this afternoon," Tom said, still studying Lance.

"Well, if you want to ride Coaley, he's good for it. I'd say he has
more miles in him yet than any of that bunch over there." With slicker
and blanket roll Lance started for the house.

Tom did not say anything. He was scowling thoughtfully after Lance
when Belle, coming from the chicken house with a late hatching of
fluffy little chicks in her hat, looked at him inquiringly. To her
Tom turned with more harshness than he had shown for many a long day.

"Schoolin' don't seem to set good on a Lorrigan," he said. "How long's
he goin' to stay this time?"

"Why, honey, don't you _want_ Lance home? He rode Coaley--but that's
no crime. Lance wouldn't hurt him, he's too good a rider and he never
was hard on horses. And Coaley just goes _wild_ when he has to stand
shut up all day--"

"Oh, it ain't riding Coaley, altogether. He can ride Coaley and be
darned. It's the new airs he's putting on that don't set good with me,
Belle. You wanted to make something of Lance, and now, by Henry,
you'll have to name the job you've made of him--I'd hate to!"

Belle put a hand into the cheeping huddle in her hat, lifted out a
chick and held it to her cheek. "Why, you're just imagining that Lance
is different," she contended, stifling her own recognition of the
change. "He'll settle right down amongst the boys--"

"The boys ain't cryin' to have him, Belle. Black Rimmers had ought to
stay Black Rimmers, or get out and stay out. Lance ain't either one
thing or the other."

"Why, Tom Lorrigan!" Belle dropped the chick into her hat and tucked
the hat under her arm. Her eyes began to sparkle a little. "I don't
think Lance liked it about the piano, but he's the same Lance he
always was. I've watched him, and he hasn't said a thing or done a
thing outa the way--he's just the _dearest_ great big fellow! And I
can't for the life of me see why you and the whole outfit hang back
from him like he was a stranger. Education ain't catching, Tom. And
La