She disapproved the
assurance of his manner even while the youth in her applauded his
reckless sufficiency. His gay courage held her unconsenting
admiration even while she resented it. He was a trifle too much
at his ease for one who had just been snatched from dire peril.
Yet even in his insouciance there was something engaging;
something almost of distinction.
"What was the trouble?"
Mirth bubbled in his gray eyes. "I gathered, ma'am, that they
wanted to collect my scalp."
"Do what?" she frowned.
"Bump me off--send me across the divide."
"Oh, I know that. But why?"
He seemed to reproach himself. "Now how could I be so neglectful?
I clean forgot to ask."
"That's ridiculous," was her sharp verdict.
"Yes, ma'am, plumb ridiculous. My only excuse is that they began
scattering lead so sudden I didn't have time to ask many
'Whyfors.' I reckon we'll just have to call it a Wyoming
difference of opinion," he concluded pleasantly.
"Which means, I suppose, that you are not going to tell me."
"I got so much else to tell y'u that's a heap more important," he
laughed. "Y'u see, I'm enjoyin' my first automobile ride. It was
certainly thoughful of y'u to ask me to go riding with y'u, Miss
Messiter.
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