David laughed.
“Who you going to marry?” he chuckled.
“Why, of course I don’t know yet,” she responded; “but I shan’t wait till I’m fifty years old.”
“No, I guess you won’t,” he agreed.
The sound of light hoofs speeding down the street turned the attention from the weighty subject of marriage back to the Colonel himself.
“That isn’t he, it’s a little man,” observed Polly.
“I knew it wasn’t Lone Star’s step,” David replied. “Besides, he doesn’t come home so early as this.”
“Oh, say,” Polly broke out in an undertone of excitement, “let’s go up on Oregon Avenue! Maybe we should meet them!”
“I don’t suppose they always go that way,” mused David; “but it wouldn’t do any harm to take a walk—”
“No, come on!” urged Polly, jumping up. “But I must lock the house first. Mother has a key.”