Behold the ideal manhood of your higher life! When the intellectual and spiritual life you so desire succeeds in producing racial fruit of that superior quality, it will have justified its existence--and will perish from the earth." Even as Patches spoke, he saw something just beyond the approaching man that made him start as if to rise to his feet.
It was the unmistakable face of Yavapai Joe, who, from behind an oak bush, was watching the professor.
Patches, glancing at Kitty, saw that she had not noticed.
Before the young woman could reply to her companion's derisive remarks, the object which had prompted his comments arrived within speaking distance.
"I trust I am not intruding," began the professor, in his small, thin voice.

Then as Patches, his eyes still on that oak bush, stood up, the little man added, with hasty condescension, "Keep your seat, my man; keep your seat.

I assure you it is not my purpose to deprive you of Miss Reid's company." Patches grinned.

By that "my man" he knew that Kitty had not enlightened her teacher as to the "typical cowboy's" real character.
"That's all right, perfessor," he said awkwardly.

"I just seen a maverick over yonder a-piece.