Weary tipped his head to one side so that be might look up at her from under his hat-brim. "I'll get yuh another gopher; six, if yuh say so," he soothed, "The woods is full of 'em." The angry, brown eyes of Miss Satterly swept the barren hills contemptuously. She would not even look at him. "Pray do not inconvenience yourself, Mr. Davidson. It is not the gopher that I care for so much--it is the principle." Weary sighed and slid the gun back into his pocket. It seemed to him that Miss Satterly, adorable as she always was, was also rather unreasonable at times. "All right, I'll get yuh another principle, then." "Mr. Davidson," she said sternly, "you are perfectly odious!" "Is that something nice, Girlie?" Weary smiled trustfully up at her. "Odious," explained the schoolma'am haughtily, "is not something nice. I'm sorry your education has been so neglected. Odious, Mr. Davidson, is a synonym for hateful, obnoxious, repulsive, disagreeable, despicable--" "I never did like cinnamon, anyhow," put in Weary, cheerfully. "I did not mention cinnamon. I said--" "Say, yuh look out uh sight with your hair fixed that way. I wish you'd wear it like that all the time," he observed irrelevantly, looking up at her with his sunniest smile. "I wish to goodness I were really out of sight," snapped the schoolma'am. "You make me exceedingly weary." "_Mrs._ Weary," corrected he, complacently. "That's what I'm sure aiming at." "You aim wide of the mark, then," she retorted valiantly, though confusion waved a red flag in either cheek. "Oh, I don't know. A minute ago you were roasting me because my aim was too good," he contended mildly, glancing involuntarily toward the gopher stretched upon its little, yellow back, its four small feet turned pitifully up to the blue. "If you had an atom of decency you'd be ashamed to mention that tribute to your diabolical marksmanship." "Oh, mamma!" ejaculated Weary under his breath, and began to make himself a smoke. His guardian angel was exhorting him to silence, but it preached, as usual, to unsentient ears. "_I_ never mentioned all those things," he denied meekly. "It's you that keeps on mentioning. I wish yuh wouldn't. I like to hear you talk, all right, and flop all those big words easy as roping a calf; but I wish you'd let me choose your subject for yuh. I could easy name one where you could use words just as high and wide and handsome, and a heap more pleasant than the brand you've got corralled. Try admiration and felicitation and exhilarating, ecstatic osculation--" He stopped to run the edge of paper along his tongue, and perhaps it was as well he did; there was no need of making her any angrier. Miss Satterly hated to feel that she was worsted, and it was quite clear that Weary had all along been "guying" her. "If you came here to make me _hate_ you, you have accomplished your errand admirably; it would be advisable now for you to hike."