"Oh, gee!" he began but clapped his hand over his mouth, and put the coin swiftly away into his pocket. He sprawled out on the rock and trailed the toes of one bare foot sensuously in the stream, regarding the rider with a sidelong look that said plainly, "I bet you want somethin’ o’ me." "I suppose," said Stratton, "that Miss Hunter, the teacher, has gone home?" "Naw." Lem cast up his eyes with a grim smile. "She stopped ter write er letter to her sister after school; takes her a good spell, an’ I kem on erhead to wait round here at ther creek. She ain’t needin’ me so much on ther trail sence ther timber-cruiser left his horse fur her." "The timber-cruiser?" repeated Stratton. "I see, you mean Forrest. And he left the black for her use?" "You bet; ther ain’t nothin’ half-way ’bout him; an’ I ’low he thinks when it kems to ther schoolmarm ther ain’t nothin’ too good fur her." "Yes?" Stratton checked his horse again, watching the boy quizzically. "What grounds have you for believing that, Jonathan?" "My name’s Lemuel; you kin call me Lem fur short." He paused long enough to give the correction weight, then said, "I dunno. He ain’t ther kind ter make much show, but I bet ther roots strikes deep. An’ ma, she calc’lates he thinks ther sun ’bout rises an’ sets in ther school-marm." "Yes?" repeated Stratton dryly. "Well, I should not wonder. Your mother is a shrewd and practical judge." "Dad," the boy continued, warming to his subject, "he ’lowed ther schoolmarm must have give him ther cold shoulder that time up in ther hills. He didn’t seem to care er durn ’bout losin’ his hull day o’ prospectin’; never said er word, an’ he’d be’n countin’ on findin’ that ther lost mine o’ his fur more’n er year. But ma, she jedged he was jest all broke up on ’count o’ that cougar." Stratton had heard the story. It was one to carry far, to gather weight with repetition, and Eben, as the settlement historian, had been particularly glad to add it to his repertoire. There was a brief silence, during which the rider waited, smiling a little, and Lem thoughtfully trailed his other foot in the current, then, "Mebbe she has took the bit in her teeth fur er spell," he went on, "but ef he jest keeps er stiff upper lip she’ll kem ’round. Er girl’s bound ter show some spirit ef she’s any ’count. Er man’s got ter handle her ’bout like that ther sorrel filly of Mill Thornton’s. He kin chase her all over ther pasture fur half er day, an’ she’ll keep gettin’ more skittish an’ shy, but ther minute he lets on he don’t give er durn, an’ goes an’ sets down by ther bars fur er rest, she’ll kem nosin’ over his shoulder, huntin’ his pockets fur sugar. Mill hisself ’lows girls is ’bout that erway, an’ he’d orter know." "Yes? And why should he, particularly, know?" "On ’count o’ Cousin Samanthy. Ther hull settlement’s be’n calc’lating what she’ll do ’bout Mill, fur ther last year." "And who is Cousin Samantha?"