"I'd rather stay."
"We'll stay—right over there. Then, when the town comes, and it gets too populous—if you like, and if Marylyn's not at this post—we'll go farther up, to open country again."
"We'll take your share of the Clark herd," she said.
"I've got a fine little saddle-mare for you," he said.
Somebody entered the parlour behind them—two somebodies, hand in hand.
"Dallas," called one, meekly.
"Lounsbury," hailed the other.
The storekeeper went in, Dallas with him. "Bless your sweet hearts," he said when he faced the couple. "Marylyn, you rested? Fraser, you look idiotically happy."
"I'm not alone," retorted the lieutenant. "I'd hate to describe you this minute, your face beaming through all that lint."
"Save yourself the trouble, here, before my future wife."