Weary rode stealthily around the corner of the little, frame school-house and was not disappointed.The schoolma'am was sitting unconventionally upon the doorstep, her shoulder turned to him andher face turned to the trail by which a man naturally would be supposed to approach the place. Herhair was shining darkly in the sun and the shorter locks were blowing about her face in a downrighttantalizing fashion; they made a man want to brush them back and kiss the spot they were caressingso wantonly. She was humming a tune softly to herself. Weary caught the words, sung absently, under her breath: "Didn't make no blunder-yuh couldn't confuse him.A perfect wonder, yuh had to choose him!"The schoolma'am was addicted to coon songs of the period.She seemed to be very busy about something and Weary, craning his neck to see over her shoulder, wondered what. Also, he wished he knew what she was thinking about, and he hoped her thoughtswere not remote from himself. Just then Glory showed unmistakable and malicious intentions ofsneezing, and Weary, catching a glimpse of something in Miss Satterly's hand, hastened to make hispresence known."I hope yuh aren't limbering up that weapon of destruction on my account, Schoolma'am," heobserved mildly.The schoolma'am jumped and slid something out of sight under her ruffled, white apron. "WearyDavidson, how long have you been standing there? I believe you'd come straight down from the skyor straight up from the ground, if you could manage it. You seem capable of doing everythingexcept coming by the trail like a sensible man." This with severity.Weary swung a long leg over Glory's back and came lightly to earth, immediately taking possessionof the vacant half of doorstep. The schoolma'am obligingly drew skirts aside to make room forhim-an inconsistent movement not at all in harmony with her eyebrows, which were disapprovi