He was quite well aware that Slim was playing for
time and that he was too bashful to plump out the desire that was
in him. "Great the way cows are jumpin', ain't it?"
"Sure. Well, I'll be movin' along to Slauson's. I just drapped in
on my way. Thought mebbe y'u hadn't heard tell of the dance."
"Much obliged. Was it for old man Slauson y'u dug up all them
togs, Slim? He'll ce'tainly admire to see y'u in that silk
tablecloth y'u got round your neck."
Slim's purple deepened again. "Y'u go to grass, Mac. I don't aim
to ask y'u to be my valley yet awhile."
"C'rect. I was just wondering do all the Triangle Bar boys ride
the range so handsome?"
"Don't y'u worry about the Triangle Bar boys," advised the
embarrassed Slim, gathering up his bridle reins.
With one more reluctant glance in the direction of the house he
rode away. When he reached the corral he looked back again. His
gaze showed him the boyish foreman doubled up with laughter; also
the sweep of a white skirt descending from the piazza.
"Now, ain't that hoodooed luck?" the aggrieved rider of the
Triangle Bar outfit demanded of himself, "I made my getaway about
three shakes too soon, by gum!"
Her foreman was in the throes of mirth when Helen Messiter
reached him.
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