"No, indeed!" said Margaret, with flashing eyes.
"Well, I just thought he was that kind of a guy. I told ma he was lying, but she said I didn't understand young ladies, and, of course, you didn't want me when there was a man, and especially a preacher, round. Some preacher he is! This 's the second time I've caught him lying. I think he's the limit. I just wish you'd see our missionary. If he was here he'd beat the dust out o' that poor stew. He's some man, he is. He's a regular white man, our missionary! Just you wait till he gets back."
Margaret drew a breath of relief. Then the missionary was a real man, after all. Oh, for his return!
"Well, I'm certainly very glad it wasn't your fault, Bud. I didn't feel very happy to be turned off that way," said the teacher, smiling down upon the rough head of the boy.
"You bet it wasn't my fault!" said the boy, vigorously. "I was sore's a pup at you, after you'd made a date and all, to do like that; but I thought if you wanted to go with that guy it was up to you."
"Well, I didn't and I don't. You'll please understand hereafter that I'd always rather have your company than his. How about going down to the school-house some time to-day? Have you time?"
"Didn't you go yet?" The boy's face looked as if he had received a kingdom, and his voice had a ring of triumph.
"We drove down there, but I didn't care to go in without you, so we came back."
"Wanta go now?" The boy's face fairly shone.
"I'd love to. I'll be ready in three minutes. Could we carry some books down?"