“Why?”

“Because of my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t see what—what light-colored hair has to do with your manners,” confessed Nancy.

“‘Light-colored’—I like that!” exclaimed Scorch. “Trying to let me down easy—eh?”

“We-ell——”

“It’s red. Say! nobody’s ever let me forget it since I could creep,” declared the boy. “I useter lick all the boys I could at Number Six school, an’ those that I couldn’t lick I throwed stones at. For calling my hair out o’ name, I mean.”

“I suppose being red-headed is hard,” commented Nancy.

“Say! bein’ an heiress without no folks ain’t in it with being a carrot-top,” said Scorch, grinning.