"You're lucky!" Wallie spoke with unnecessary emphasis. "It's an uncomfortable sensation."
Pinkey shifted uneasily and picked a bit of bark off the corral pole.
"Don't it look kinda funny that Miss Eyester would take any in'trist in Old Man Penrose? A girl like her wouldn't care nothin' about his money, would she?"
Wallie looked dour as he answered:
"You never can tell—maybe." He had been asking himself the same question about Miss Spenceley, whom he had seen rather frequently of late with Canby.
"Guess I'll quirl me a brownie and git into the feathers," glumly. "I thought I'd go into town in the mornin', I want to do me some buyin'."
Wallie nodded, and Pinkey added as he unhooked his heels:
"You want to ride herd pretty clost on Aunt Lizzie. She's bound and determined to go outside the fence huntin' moss-agates. The cattle are liable to hook her. Canby throwed them long-horns in there on purpose."
"I'm sure of it," Wallie said, grimly. "Yes, I'll watch Aunt Lizzie. But she isn't worse than Appel, who was over there catching grasshoppers because he said they were fatter."
"Dudes is aggravatin'," Pinkey admitted. "But," philosophically, "they're our meal-tickets, so we got to swaller 'em."