n, untempting, red
streak, for she had not seen Weary Davidson, on an average, twice a
week for the last four months for nothing. He was not the man to bluff.

"Of course," she said resentfully, "you can make fun of it--but all the
same, it's better than nothing. It answers the purpose."

Weary turned his head till he could look straight into her eyes--a
thing he seemed rather fond of doing, lately. "What purpose? It sure
isn't ornamental; it's a little the hardest looker I ever saw in the
shape of a gun. And it won't scare anything. If you want a gun, why,
take one that can make good. You can have mine; just watch what a
different effect it has."

He reached backward and drew a shining thing from his pocket, flipped
it downward--and the effect was unmistakably different. The gopher
leaped and rolled backward and then lay still, and Miss Satterly gave a
little, startled scream and jumped quite off the doorstep.

"Don't yuh see? You couldn't raise any such a dust with yours. If yuh
pack a gun, you always want to pack one that's ready and willing to do
business on short notice. I'll let yuh have this, if you're sure it's
safe with yuh. I'd hate to have you shooting yourself accidental."

Weary raised innocent eyes to her face and polished the gun caressingly
with his handkerchief. "Try it once," he urged.

The schoolma'am was fond of boasting that she never screamed at
anything. She had screamed just now, over a foolish little thing, and
it goes without saying she was angry with the cause. She did not sit
down again beside him, and she did not take the gun he was holding up
invitingly to her. She put her hands behind her and stood accusingly
before him with the look upon her face which never failed to make
sundry small Beckmans and Pilgreens squirm on their benches when she
assumed it in school.

"Mr. Davidson"--not Weary Davidson, as she was wont to call him--"you
have killed my pet gopher. All summer I have fed him, and he would eat
out of my hand."

Weary cast a jealous eye upon the limp, little animal, searched his
heart for remorse and found none. Ornery little brute, to get familiar
with _his_ schoolma'am!

"I did not think you could be so wantonly cruel, and I am astonished
and--and deeply pained to discover that fatal flaw in your character."

Weary began to squirm, after the manner of delinquent Beckmans and
Pilgreens. One thing he had learned: When the schoolma'am rose to
irreproac