ung man with the
bandaged head and the somber eyes. He seemed so aloof, as though his
spirit walked alone in dark places where she could not follow.

After that she did not mention stolen horses, nor thieves, nor airplanes,
nor anything that could possibly lead his thoughts to those taboo
subjects. Under that heavy handicap conversation lagged. There seemed to
be so little that she dared mention! She would sit and prattle of school
and shows and such things, and tell him about the girls she knew; and
half the time she knew perfectly well that Johnny was not listening. But
she could not bear his moody silences, and he sat out on the porch a good
deal of the time, so she had to go on talking, whether she bored him to
death or not.

Then one day, when the bandage had dwindled to a small patch held in
place by strips of adhesive plaster, Johnny broke into her detailed
description of a silly Western picture she had seen.

"What's become of Bland?" he asked, just when she was describing a
thrilling scene.

"Bland? Oh, why--Bland's gone." Mary V was very innocent as to eyes and
voice, and very uneasy as to her mind.

"Gone where? He was broke. I didn't get a chance to pay him--"

"Oh, well, as to that--I suppose dad fixed him up with a ticket and so
on. And so this girl, Inez, overhears them plotting--"

"Where's your dad?"

"Dad? Why, dad's in Tucson, I believe, at the trial. What _makes_ you so
rude when I'm telling you the most thrill--"

"When's he coming back?"

"For gracious _sake_, Johnny! What do you want of dad all at once? Am I
not entertaining--"

"You are. As entertaining as a meadow lark. I love meadow larks, but I
never could put in all my time listening to 'em sing. I generally had
something else I had to do."

"Well, you've nothing else to do now, so listen to this meadow lark, will
you? Though I must say--"

"I'd like to, but I can't. There are things I've got to do."

"There are not! Not a single thing but be a nice boy and get well. And to
get well you must--"

"A lot you know about it--you, with nothing to worry you, any more than a
meadow lark. Not as much, because they do have to rustle their own
worms and watch out for hawks and things, and you--"

"I suppose you would imply that I have about as much brains as a meadow
lark, perhaps!" Mary V rose valiantly to the argument. If Johnny would
rather quarrel than talk about things that didn't interest either of them
a bit, why, a quarrel