” “No,” she moaned, “not that. ' So I go to Patagonia. " "Oh, dear! how I should like to see him. I was one of the few. You do not understand, and you would like to. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride. "If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing.
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