"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."