Back there on the trail. Purposely. I sent
him for water and then--I skipped."
"Oh-h-h! Then HE'S the goose."
"Goose! Preston Fairfax Fitz--"
"Yes, the goose you said 'Boo!' to, you know."
"Of course. You didn't steal his hat, did you?"
"No. It's my own hat. Why did you run away from him?"
"He bored me. When people bore me, I always run away. I'm
beginning to feel quite fugitive this very minute."
There was silence below, a silence that piqued the girl.
"Well," she challenged, "haven't you anything to say before the
court passes sentence of abandonment to your fate?"
"I'm thinking--frantically. But the thoughts aren't girl thoughts.
I mean, they wouldn't interest you. I might tell you about some of
my insects," he added hopefully.
"Heaven forbid!"
"They're very interesting."
"No. You're worthless as an augur, and a flat failure as a
conversationalist, when thrown on your own resources. So I shall
shake the dust from my feet and depart."
"Good-bye!" he said desolately. "And thank you."
"For what?"
"For making music in my desert."
"That's much better," she approved.
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