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“Well，Trampasisaimin’totrainhim。Yu’see，supposin’yu’
werefiguringtoturnprofessionalthief——yu’dbelookin’aroundforaniceyoungtrustfulaccomplicetotakeallthepunishmentandletyoutaketherest。“
“Nosuchthing！“criedScipio，angrily。“I’mnoshirker。“Andthen，perceivingtheVirginian’sexpression，hebrokeoutlaughing。“Well，“heexclaimed，“yu’fooledmethattime。“
“Looksthatway。ButIdomeanitaboutTrampas。“
PresentlyScipiorose，andnoticedthehalf-finishedexerciseupontheVirginian’sdesk。“Trampasisarollingstone，“hesaid。
“Arollingpieceofmud，“correctedtheVirginian。
“Mud！That’sright。I’marollingstone。SometimesI’dmostliketoquitbeing。“
“That’seasydone，“saidtheVirginian。
“Nodoubt，whenyu’vefoundthemossyu’wanttogather。“AsScipioglancedattheschoolbooksagain，asparklelurkedinhisbleachedblueeye。“Icanciphersome，“hesaid。“ButIexpectI’vegotmyownnotionsaboutspelling。“
“Iretainafewprivateideasthatwaymyself，“remarkedtheVirginian，innocently；andScipio’ssparklegatheredlight。
“Astomygeography，“hepursued，“that’sawayoutlooseinthebrush。IsBenningtonthecapitalofVermont？Andhowd’yu’spellbridegroom？“
“Lastpoint！“shoutedtheVirginian，lettingabookflyafterhim:“don’tletbadnessandgoodnessworryyu’，foryu’llneverbeajudgeofthem。“
ButScipiohaddodgedthebook，andwasgone。Ashewenthisway，hesaidtohimself，“Allthesame，itmustpaytofallregularinlove。“Atthebunkhousethatafternoonitwasobservedthathewasunusuallysilent。Hisexitfromtheforeman’scabinhadletinabreathofwintersochillthattheVirginianwenttoseehisthermometer，aChristmaspresentfromMrs。Henry。Itregisteredtwentybelowzero。Afterrevivingthefiretoawhiteblaze，theforemansatthinkingoverthestoryofShorty:whatitsuseless，feeblepasthadbeen；whatwouldbeitsuseless，feeblefuture。
Heshookhisheadoverthesombrequestion，WasthereanywayoutforShorty？“Itmaybe，“hereflected，“thatthemwhosepleasurebringsyu’intothisworldowesyu’aliving。Butthatdon’tmaketheworldresponsible。Theworlddidnotbegetyou。Ireckonmanhelpsthemthathelpthemselves。Asfortheuniverse，itlookslikeitdidtoowholesaleabusinesstoturnoutanarticleuptostandardeveryclip。Yes，itissorrowful。ForShortyiskindtohishawss。“
IntheeveningtheVirginianbroughtShortyintohisroom。Heusuallyknewwhathehadtosay，usuallyfounditeasytoarrangehisthoughts；andaftersucharrangingthewordscameofthemselves。ButashelookedatShorty，thisdidnothappentohim。Therewasnotalineofbadnessintheface；yetalsotherewasnotalineofstrength；nopromiseineye，ornose，orchin；
thewholethingmeltedtoastubby，featurelessmediocrity。Itwasacountenancelikethousands；andhopelessnessfilledtheVirginianashelookedatthislostdog，andhisdull，wistfuleyes。
Butsomebeginningmustbemade。
“Iwonderwhatthethermometerhasgottobe，“hesaid。“Yu’canseeit，ifyu’llholdthelamptothatrightsideofthewindow。“
Shortyheldthelamp。“Ineverusedany，“hesaid，lookingoutattheinstrument，nevertheless。
TheVirginianhadforgottenthatShortycouldnotread。Sohelookedoutofthewindowhimself，andfoundthatitwastwenty-twobelowzero。“Thisisprettygoodtobacco，“heremarked；andShortyhelpedhimself，andfilledhispipe。
“Ihadtorubmyleftearwithsnowto-day，“saidhe。“Iwasjustintime。“
“Ithoughtitlookedprettyfreezyoutwhereyu’wasriding，“
saidtheforeman。
Thelostdog’seyesshowedplainastonishment。“Wedidn’tseeyououtthere，“saidhe。
“Well，“saidtheforeman，“it’llsoonnotbefreezinganymore；
andthenwe’llallbewarmenoug
