There was something going on behind the scenes which he could not even guess at. He was a keen observer, and had noticed the blush on the cheek of his friend.
"He's a hard-cut citizen, is Jack," thought the cowboy. "It takes a lot to jump him offen his gyard."
"Ben," continued Jack, "you're a real white man. I remember her now, poor little thing, and you too."
"I spotted you fust day you comes aboard, sir!"
"I didn't know, bosun; I've never been home since I went to sea, and that was just before you went on that unlucky voyage."
"I see'd the ole lord last time I was back," began the bosun with some hesitation; and then stopped, as if he would have liked to say something more, but dared not.
"Hm!" muttered Jack indifferently, with mask-like face; but the keen-eyed cowpuncher noticed a singular gleam in the rover's clear blue orbs.
For a few moments there was silence, and then Broncho broke in:
"Talkin' of marriage, you shorely recalls my Juanita, don't you, Jack?"