“I see ’em!” Demarest crowed at last “Let ’er out, can’t you, Charlie? Here they come! The girl’s wavin’ her hat. She’s runnin’ ahead to meet us! Let ’er out, Charlie! ’Sall right, Canby. Everybody right side up, and—— Let ’er out, can’t you, Charlie! ’Fraid o’ breakin’ her?”
A minute more and the big car slowed and came to a stop, and Squawtooth Canby leaped from the tonneau, and, with tears streaming down his rugged face, smothered his daughter in his arms.
For a long time neither of them spoke. Both sobbed and hugged each other, and then the girl looked up with pleading, tear-dimmed eyes, begging forgiveness. Finally Manzanita left her father’s arms and clasped the grinning Mart. She turned then toward the rest.
Philip Demarest was standing with his short, fat legs wide apart, nodding his head up and down at Falcon the Flunky, who was approaching him with a hand outstretched and a glad smile on his lips.
“Tom Demarest!” cried old Demarest “You infernal—— Great heavens to Betsy!”
“I thought I knew that black car,” said Falcon the Flunky in his quiet way. “How’s everything, dad?”
Then Manzanita danced from Mart and charged down upon Demarest, throwing herself upon him and clasping her arms about his neck.
“Hello, main squeeze!” she cried. “Kiss me! I’m going to be your daughter-in-law!”
Squawtooth Canby pulled his long whiskers till his mouth hung open, and Mart remarked: “Huh!”