s." Smoky,
level, and hot, the south wind leapt into Separ across five hundred
unbroken miles. The plain was blanketed in a tawny eclipse. Each minute
the near buildings became invisible in a turbulent herd of clouds. Above
this travelling blur of the soil the top of the water-tank alone rose
bulging into the clear sun. The sand spirals would lick like flames
along the bulk of the lofty tub, and soar skyward. It was not shipping
season. The freight-cars stood idle in a long line. No cattle huddled in
the corrals. No strangers moved in town. No cow-ponies dozed in front of
the saloon. Their riders were distant in ranch and camp. Human noise was
extinct in Separ. Beneath the thunder of the sultry blasts the place
lay dead in its flapping shroud of dust. "Why won't you tell me?" droned
Billy. For some time he had been returning, like a mosquito brushed
away.

"That's ten times," said Jessamine, promptly.

"Oh, goodness! Pretty soon I'll not be glad I came. I'm about twiced as
less glad now."

"Well," said Jessamine, "there's a man coming to-day to mend the
government telegraph-line between Drybone and McKinney. Maybe he would
take you back as far as Box Elder, if you want to go very much. Shall I
ask him?"

Billy was disappointed at this cordial seconding of his mood. He did not
make a direct rejoinder. "I guess I'll go outside now," said he, with a
threat in his tone.

She continued mending his stockings. Finished ones lay rolled at one
side of her chair, and upon the other were more waiting her attention.

"And I'm going to turn back hand-springs on top of all the
freight-cars," he stated, more loudly.

She indulged again in merriment, laughing sweetly at him, and without
restraint.

"And I'm sick of what you all keep a-saying to me!" he shouted. "Just as
if I was a baby."

"Why, Billy, who ever said you were a baby?"

"All of you do. Honey, and Lin, and you, now, and everybody. What makes
you say 'that's nine times, Billy; oh, Billy, that's ten times,' if you
don't mean I'm a baby? And you laugh me off, just like they do, and just
like I was a regular baby. You won't tell me--"

"Billy, listen. Did nobody ever ask you something you did not want to
tell them?"

"That's not a bit the same, because--because--because I treat 'em square
and because it's not their business. But every time I ask anybody 'most
anything, they say I'm not old enough to understand; and I'll be ten
soon. And it is my business when