“What do you want to teach me for?” he demanded.
“Because,” Dora declared, “you have possibilities.”
“Why don’t you teach Meeteetse Ed and Tubbs?”
Dora laughed aloud.
“Candidly, I think it would be a waste of time. They could never hope to be much more than we see them here. And they are content as they are.”
“So was I, girl, until our trails crossed. I could ride without grub all day, and sing. I could sleep on a saddle-blanket like a tired pup, with only a rock for a wind-break and my saddle for a pillow. Now I can’t sleep in a bed. It’s horrible—this mixed up feelin’—half the time wantin’ to holler and laugh and the other half wantin’ to cry.”
“I don’t see why you should feel like that,” said Dora gravely. “You are getting along. It’s slow, but you’re learning.”
“Oh, yes, I’m learnin’,” Smith answered grimly—“fast.”
He saw her wondering look and went on fiercely.
“Girl, don’t you see what I mean? Don’t you sabe? My feelin’ for you is more nor friendship. I can’t tell you how I feel. It’s nothin’ I ever had before, but I’ve heard of it a-plenty. It’s love—that’s what it is! I’ve seen it, too, a-plenty.