"Aw—it wasn't anything," growled the boy, with all the sex's objection to being thought a hero.
"You must be very strong—a regular athlete," declared Ruth.
"Any other boy could do it."
"No!"
"If he knew how," limited the white-haired boy.
"And how did you learn so much!" asked Ruth, curiously.
Again the red flushed into his pale face. "Practicin'. That's all," he said, rather doggedly.
"Won't you tell us who you are?" asked Ruth, feeling that the boy was keeping up a wall between them.
"Neale O'Neil."
"Do you live in Milton?"