No--I guess I'd never make a top-hand, ridin' for you. But my rope is
tied to the horn--and I sure aim to stay with whatever I git my loop
on."
"I get your drift--and I admire your purpose. Incidentally and
speaking from a distinctly impersonal--er--viewpoint" (no doubt a
high-school principal may speak from a viewpoint, or even sit on one if
he cares to), "your colloquialisms are delightful--and sufficiently
forceful to leave no doubt as to your sincerity of purpose."
"Meanin' you sabe what I'm gittin' at, eh?"
The principal nodded and smiled.
"I thought that was what you was tryin' to say. Well, professor--"
"Dr. Wheeler, if you please."
"All right, Doc. But I didn't know you was a doc too."
"Doctor of letters, merely."
Pete suspected that he was being joked with, but the principal's manner
was quite serious. "If you will give me your address, I will drop a
line to Mr. Forbes," said the principal.
Pete gave his name and address. As Principal Wheeler wrote them down
in his notebook he glanced up at Pete curiously. "You don't happen to
be the young man--er--similarity of names--who was mixed up in that
shooting affair in El Paso? Name seemed familiar.
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