"Don't need to take a walk with him," countered Sally; "just take a talk
with him--or try to.".

"I did try to," interpolated Mrs. Morrell.

"May as well make it unanimous, looks like," said Sam. "He goes for a
hearse."

But Teeny McFarlane interposed in her positive, precise little way.

"I object," she drawled. "He certainly isn't as bad as all that. He's a
nice boy, and he never bored anybody in his life. Did he bore you, Sally?"

"I can't say he did, now you mention it. He's one of those nice doggy
people you don't mind having around."

They discussed the matter animatedly. Teeny McFarlane developed an
unexpected obstinacy. She did not suggest that the young man was to be
included in any of the future parties; indeed, she answered the direct
question decidedly in the negative; no, there was no use trying to include
anybody unless they decidedly "belonged."

"You wouldn't call him a live Molly, now would you, Teeny?" implored Cal
Bennett.

"No," she answered slowly, "I suppose not. But he is _not_ a hearse."

The men, all but Popsy McFarlane, were inspecting Teeny's cool, unrevealing
exterior with covert curiosity. She was always an enigma to them. Each man
was asking himself why her interest in the mere labelling of this stranger.