"Sure I did," said Donald. "Told the whole family at dinner last night.
Told 'em about all the things I was learning, from where to get soap
off the bushes to the best spot for material for wooden legs or
instantaneous relief for snake bite."

"What did they say?" Linda inquired laughingly.

"Unanimously in favour of continuing the course," he said. "I had
already told Father about you when I asked him for books and any help
that he could give me with Oka Sayye. Since I had mentioned you last
night he told Mother and Louise about that, and they told me to bring
you to the house some time. All of them are crazy to know you. Mother
says she is just wild to know whether a girl who wears boots and
breeches and who knows canyons and the desert and the mountains as you
do can be a feminine and lovable person."

"If I told her how many friends I have, she could have speedily decided
whether I am lovable or not," said Linda; "but I would make an effort to
convince her that I am strictly feminine."

"You would convince her of that without making the slightest effort.
You're infinitely more feminine than any other girl I have ever known."

"How do you figure that?" asked Linda.

"Well," said Donald, "it's a queer thing about you, Linda. I take
any liberty I pretty nearly please with most of the girls I have been
associated with. I tie their shoes and pull their hair--down if I want
to--and hand them round 'most any way the notion takes me, and they just
laugh and take the same liberties with me, which proves that I am pretty
much a girl with them or they are pretty much boys with me. But it
wouldn't occur to me to touch your hair or your shoe lace or the tips of
your fingers; which proves that you're more feminine than any other
girl I know, because if you were not I would be treating you more like
another boy. I thought, the first day we were together, that you were
like a boy, and I said so, and I thought it because you did not tease me
and flirt with me, but since I have come to know you better, you're less
like a boy than any other girl I ever have known."

"Don't get psychological, Donald," said Linda. "Go on with the Jap. I
haven't got an answer yet to what I really want to know. Have you made
the least progress this week? Can you beat him?"

Donald hesitated, studying over the answer.

"Beat him at that trig proposition the other day," he said. "Got an
open commendation before the class. There's not a professor