"All right," returned Frank pleasantly. "Only here's an orange and a funny book I want you to enjoy," and he placed the articles in question beside the boy and stepped back to his own seat.
As he did so he met the big round face of the farmer on a broad grin. The latter turned around and accosted him.
"Not very sociable, hey?" he remarked.
"Oh, I probably seem strange to him," observed Frank.
"He's that way all along," declared the farmer. "If he is my son, I say it."
"You are his father, then?"
"The only one he's got," replied the farmer. "You see, I married his mother. She's dead, now. That boy always was a sulky, ugly varmint. Why, he'd ought to be the happiest critter in Christendom. He's got eight step-brothers and step-sisters. Won't jibe, though. He's just unnateral, that fellow is. No living at home with him, so I'm taking his to a boarding-school."
"Maybe he doesn't feel well all the time," suggested Frank gently.
"What, that big, husky boy? Why, he's strong as an ox. No, sir-ree, nateral depravity, I say. I tried to whip it out of him. It did him no good."
"I shouldn't think it would," decided Frank mentally, and then the conversation dropped and the man returned to his paper.