"Settle due east of you, sir," was the answer. "My name's Braden—Al Braden. I'm from Sioux Falls."
"Won't y' come in?"
"Tickled t' death!"
They entered the shack, Lancaster leading. Dallas and Marylyn glanced up in surprise from the fireplace, and arose hastily.
"M' gals," said the section-boss, motioning their visitor to a bench.
Braden took it, with more swinging bows, and a sweep of his floppy headgear. "Glad t' meet you," he smiled, "Miss-a-a-a-Miss——"
"Lancaster's they name," prompted the section-boss, all good nature.
"—Lancaster. Glad t' meet you both."
Dallas nodded, and drew her sister away to the wagon-seat in the corner.
"Jes' fr'm th' Falls, Ah think y' said," began their father, hunting his tobacco plug along the mantel.