They sat very correctly mucilaged to their seats, but their large eyes were always upon Hawker, calmly valuing him.
"Do you think it nice to be in the country?
I do," said the boy.
"I like it very well," answered Hawker.
"I shall go fishing, and hunting, and everything.

Maybe I shall shoot a bears." "I hope you may." "Did you ever shoot a bears ?" "No." "Well, I didn't, too, but maybe I will.

Mister Hollanden, he said he'd look around for one.

Where I live----" "Roger," interrupted the mother from her seat at Hawker's side, "perhaps every one is not interested in your conversation." The boy seemed embarrassed at this interruption, for he leaned back in silence with an apologetic look at Hawker.

Presently the stage began to climb the hills, and the two children were obliged to take grip upon the cushions for fear of being precipitated upon the nursemaid.
Fate had arranged it so that Hawker could not observe the girl with the--the--the distance in her eyes without leaning forward and discovering to her his interest.