"Indeed!" she laughed. "Well, then, perhaps you can tell if I like you—sort of."
This was too much for Tom. He wrestled for a moment with his embarrassment, but he was in for it now, and he was not going to back out.
"I'm too clumsy for girls," said he; "they always notice that."
"You seem to know all about them," said the girl; "suppose I should tell you that I never noticed any such thing.—A girl usually notices if a fellow is strong, though," she added.
"It was being a scout that made me strong."
"There are different ways of being strong," observed Miss Ellison, busying herself the while.
"I know what you mean," said Tom. "I got a good muscle."
She leaned back in her chair and looked at him frankly. "I didn't mean exactly that," she said. "I meant if you make up your mind to do a thing, you'll do it."
Again Tom waited, not knowing what to say. He felt strangely happy, yet very uncomfortable. At length, for lack of anything better to say, he observed:
"I guess you kinder like Roscoe, all right."