“I know your name pretty well,” he explained; nothing seemed to disturb his smile.
“And I came in––because I was worried over something and wanted to see Mr. de Spain.”
“He is buying horses north of Medicine Bend. The rain-storm yesterday likely kept him back some. I don’t think you need worry much over anything though.”
“I don’t mean I am worrying about Mr. de Spain at Medicine Bend,” disclaimed Nan with a trace of embarrassment.
“I know what you mean,” smiled Bob Scott. She regarded him questioningly. He returned her gaze reassuringly as if he was confident of his ground. “Did your pony come along all right after you left the foot-hills this afternoon?”
Nan opened her eyes. “How did you know I came through the foot-hills?”
“I was over that way to-day.” Something in the continuous smile enlightened her more than the word. “I noticed your pony went lame. You stopped to look at his foot.”
“You were behind me,” exclaimed Nan.
“I didn’t see you,” he countered prudently.