"Oh, I begin to see," muttered Hooker, grinning a bit for the first time. "Jealous."
"Don't make me laugh; I might crack my face. Jealous of a cattle puncher! Excuse me! All the same, it's a bit provoking to see people slobbering over him, especially the girls, the same as if he's made of the stuff found in heroes of fiction."
"I think," said Hooker, "there's a bond of sympathy between us."
CHAPTER IV.
LEN ROBERTS OF BARVILLE.
In front of the post office stood a boy with a faded pea-green cap, hung rakishly over one ear. He had a crooked nose, which looked as if some one had given it a violent twist to one side, and, perceiving Hooker approaching, he smiled a crooked smile, that gave his features the odd appearance of struggling desperately to pull his proboscis back into place.
"Hello!" muttered Roy in surprise. "As I live, there's Len Roberts, of Barville! What's he doing here?"
"Hi, there, Hooky!" called Roberts from the right-hand corner of his mouth. "How they coming? Ain't seen you since the last time. Any fun 'round this metropolitan burg?"
"Howdy, Len," answered Roy. "What brought you over here, anyhow?"