“I must be gettin’ on,” said he, arising and taking his cowboy hat from the table, where it lay among the plates–to the great satisfaction and delight of Mrs. Mann, who believed that she had met a real westerner at last.
“Oh, stay for supper!” pleaded June.
“You’ll get enough of me when you come out to the ranch,” he laughed, giving her cheek a brotherly pinch.
While Mrs. Reed would have resented such familiarity with June’s cheek on the part of Mr. Walker, or even Mr. Bentley, she took it as an act of condescension and compliment on the part of the Governor’s son, and smiled.
Walker went off down the street with Boyle, to speed him on his way. The Governor’s son was to send out to the ranch, some forty miles distant, for a conveyance to carry Mrs. Reed and her party thither. It was to be there early on the morning of the second day from that time, that being, for that country, only an easy day’s drive for a double team to a democrat wagon.
There was an uncomfortable air of uneasiness and constraint upon them during supper and afterward, a period usually filled with banter and chatter, and shrill laughter from June. They were not able to get clear 136 of the suspicion raised by Boyle’s apparent recognition of Agnes and her denial that she was Miss Gates. The two older women especially seemed to believe that Agnes had been guilty of some serious misdemeanor in her past.
“He wasn’t mistaken in her identity,” whispered Mrs. Reed to Mrs. Mann when Agnes went in for a wrap as the chill of night began to settle.
Mrs. Mann, charitable and romantic as she was in her mild way, shook her head sadly.
“I’m afraid he wasn’t,” said she.
“I’m sorry that I can’t take June away from here tomorrow,” lamented Mrs. Reed. “There’s something hidden in that woman’s life!”