"
What he said was true enough. The unsolicited notoriety her
exploit had brought upon her had been its chief penalty. Garbled
versions of it had appeared with fake pictures in New York and
Chicago Sunday supplements, and all Cattleland had heard and
discussed it. No matter into what unfrequented canon she rode,
some silent cowpuncher would look at her as they met with
admiring eyes behind which she read a knowledge of the story. It
was a lonely desolate country, full of the wide deep silences of
utter emptiness, yet there could be no footfall but the whisper
of it was bruited on the wings of the wind.
"Do you know where the Lazy D ranch is from here?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Can you take me home?"
"I surely can. But not to-night. You're more tired than y'u know.
We'll camp here, and in the mo'ning we'll hit the trail bright
and early."
This did not suit her at all. "Is it far to the Lazy D?" she
inquired anxiously.
"Every inch of forty miles. There's a creek not more than two
hundred yards from here. We'll stay there till morning," he made
answer in a matter of course voice, leading the way to the place
he had mentioned.
She followed, protesting. Yet though it was not in accord with
her civilized sense of fitness, she knew that what he proposed
was the common sense solution.
Pages:
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154