“I don’t know anything about your Aqua Chiquite. I never heard of the place before. He is a banker in Arcadia. He keeps a general store there. You must know him, surely.” So far her voice was rather stern and purposely resentful, as became Mr. Lake’s guest; but there were complications, rankling memories of Mr. Lake—of unwelcome attentions persistently forced upon her. She spoiled the rebuke by adding tartly, “But I think he is the man you mean!” and felt her wrongs avenged.
The cowboy’s face cleared.
“Well, I don’t use Arcadia much, you see. I mostly range down Rainbow River. Arcadia folks—why, they’re mostly newcomers, health-seekers and people just living on their incomes—not working folks much, except the railroaders and lumbermen. Now about getting home. You see, ma’am, some of the boys are riding down that way”—he jerked his thumb to indicate the last flight of the imperfectly gentle horse—“and they’re right apt to see my runaway eohippus and sure to see the rope-drag; so they’ll likely amble along the back track to see how much who’s hurt. So I guess I’d better stay here. They may be along most any time. Thank you kindly, just the same. Of course, if they don’t come at all——Is your camp far?”
“Not—not very,” said Ellinor. The mere fact was that Miss Ellinor had set out ostensibly for a sketching expedition with another girl, had turned aside to explore, and exploring had fetched a circuit that had left her much closer to her starting-place than to her goal. He misinterpreted the slight hesitation.
“Well, ma’am, thank you again; but I mustn’t be keeping you longer. I really ought to see you safe back to your camp; but—you’ll understand—under the circumstances—you’ll excuse me?”
He did not want to implicate Mr. Lake, so he took a limping step forward to justify his rudeness.
“And you hardly able to walk? Ridiculous! What I ought to do is to go back to camp and get some one—get Mr. White to help you.” Thus, at once accepting his unspoken explanation, and offering her own apology in turn, she threw aside the air of guarded hostility that had marked the last minutes and threw herself anew into this joyous adventure. “When—or if—your friends find you, won’t it hurt you to ride?” she asked, and smiled deliberate encouragement.
“I can be as modest as anybody when there’s anything to be modest about; but in this case I guess I’ll now declare that I can ride anything that a saddle will stay on.... I reckon,” he added reflectively, “the boys’ll have right smart to say about me being throwed.”
“But you weren’t thrown! You rode magnificently!” Her eyes flashed admiration.
“Yes’m. That’s what I hoped you’d say,” said the admired one complacently. “Go on, ma’am. Say it again.”