“What old hens all men are!” and Manzanita sighed. “Pa Squawtooth and Hunt Mangan, and now even you! Nobody ever takes the time to insult me. No man ever has insulted me.”
“Not to your face, perhaps,” said The Falcon significantly.
“Well, if you don’t want me to come and walk with you——” Manzanita’s chin was a trifle elevated.
“Can’t I go to the ranch sometimes of evenings instead?”
For quite a time she withheld her reply.
“I—I hardly think so,” she told him finally.
“Your father wouldn’t approve, of course.”
“I—I’m afraid that’s it.”
“All the more reason, then, why we should not meet out here on the desert. Listen: I’m going to ask you what may seem to be an unfair question—from a man. Why did you make friends with me so readily in the cook tent the first day you came to the camp?”
“Perhaps I liked you,” she suggested in a low tone.