There's a sort of a breeze here, though, isn't there ?" Clint agreed again, more doubtfully, and the boy who had been studying Nature seated himself sidewise on a seat below, drawing his feet up and clasping his hands about his knees.

He was a good-looking, merry-faced chap of seventeen, with dark-brown eyes, a short nose liberally freckled under the tan and a rather prominent chin with a deep dimple in it.

His position revealed a full ten inches of the startling hose; and, since they were almost under his nose, Clint gazed at them fascinatedly.
"Some socks, are they not ?" inquired the youth.
Clint, already a little embarrassed by the other's friendliness, removed his gaze hurriedly.
"They're very--nice," he murmured.
The other elevated one ankle and viewed it approvingly.

"Saw them in a window in New York yesterday and fell for them at once.

I've got another pair that are sort of pinky-grey, ashes of roses, I guess.