"We'd like to hear more, sheriff," said Clyde.
"Sho!" said Sheriff Dove, well pleased. "I could keep yarnin' half the night to a pretty girl. I ain't too old for that. Maybe when we get back we'll have another session."
Outside on the veranda she slipped her arm in his. "Take good care of Casey for me, sheriff, please."
"I sure will, little girl," he replied. "Don't you go to worryin', now. There's no call to. If it was easier travellin' you might come along, for all the trouble there'll be." He smiled down at her in fatherly fashion, his great, sinewy arm pressing hers, and the pressure reassured her.
"Thank you, sheriff. You—you're a dear!"
"Do I git a bid to the weddin'?"
"Of course you do." Clyde blushed and laughed. "Only I don't know just when it will be."
"Make it soon," he advised. "Life's short, little girl. Take all the happiness you can git. Good night."
They rode westward in the morning before the sun had risen, and camped that night in the foothills, having seen nobody. They entered the pass, and immediately came upon the trail of horses.
"Looks like there's been some travel," said the sheriff. "This here pass used much?"