When the stove was belching forth smoke he turned his attention to the inside of the house. Presently he came out with a pan of flour and various kitchen utensils which he placed on a bench beside the door; then he drew a bucket of water and proceeded to mix pancake batter. He had not accomplished much when he was interrupted. Just when the batter was mixed to the right consistency, and the first spoonful was ready to go on, a little girl appeared. She had a pie which she bore before her with a look of great responsibility. "Ma says maybe you would like to have a pie." "Why, how do, Susie. How 's Susie getting along these days?" "Real well," replied Susan, holding the pie up higher. Mr. Hicks bent his tall Texas form in the middle and took it from her. The pie had the outlines of a star in its centre by way of a vent-hole; the edges were nicely crimped. "It's a mighty good-looking pie. What does that stand for, Susie?" he asked, holding the pie up so that she could view its face and placing his finger upon its centre. "That stands for Texas," answered Susan promptly. Mr. Hicks put the pie on the bench and sat down beside it with his elbows on his knees. Something like a smile betrayed itself in the lean muscles of his jaw and showed somehow around his large aggressive chin. "How does it come that you did n't go to school to-day, Susie?" He pointed to the white frame school-house which occupied a corner of his place. "'Cause," answered Susan, by way of complete explanation. "That's a mighty good reason. If I had an excuse like that I would n't go to school myself. How's your ma? Is she well?" "Yes, sir. Only she had a kinda headache this morning, and I wiped the dishes." "You did? How did you know so quick that I was back? Were you watching for me so that you could bring over the pie?" "Oh!" exclaimed Susan, "we heard you coming. We could hear you saying bad words when you was 'way up the road." A change suddenly came over the spirit of Mr. Hicks's physiognomy. He sat stroking his wide-spreading moustache. Jonas Hicks had a self-made moustache which seemed to have borrowed its style from the horns of a Texas steer. It might be said that, for the moment, he looked serious; but you could never tell from his face exactly what his emotions were. It was against his principles to be caught laughing, and yet his solemnity was somewhat radiant despite him.