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Updated: June 16, 2025
Already Miss Fanny suspected the truth, and her manner had changed toward Martie a little, already she was something of a personage in Monroe. Women and children and old men came out and in, their whispers sounding in the quiet, airy space. Len's wife came in, with the third daughter who should have been a son. Teddy and Billy came in; they wanted five cents for nails; they had run out of nails.
"Yes, I know what you mean, but you don't know what I mean, and if you're so offle clever you'd best teach me, for I can't teach you." "But I want you to teach me," I cried. "I've come here to learn. What is there in particular in loading a cart?" "Oh, you're ever so much more clever than I am," he grumbled. "Here, len's a hand with that barge."
He snatched the quirt from Len's wrist, breaking the thong, and flung the little whip far out on the prairie. "Oh!" mumbled Len, and he shrunk away in fear. "I won't touch you at least not now if you don't try any more of your underhand work," promised Dave. "But I'm going to converse with you right here and now. Why did you cut the posts of our special corral? Answer me that!"
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