The old gentleman seemed too shocked by the accident to make any reply. Connie started to move away.
“No, wait, please,” he requested. “You saved my granddaughter’s life. I must talk with you.”
“Anyone would have done the same, sir,” Connie responded, smiling. “I just happened to be close to the fence.”
“I saw it all,” the old man declared. “You risked your life to save the child. It was magnificent.”
“Oh, hardly that,” said Connie, flushing with embarrassment.
“I didn’t know Doris had wandered away until I saw her on the track,” the old gentleman went on. “I was stunned—paralyzed for I thought surely she would be killed. The child is all I have in the world.”
“I quite understand,” Connie murmured.
“I haven’t told you my name,” the man said offering an engraved card. “I am James Postil.”
Connie, after introducing herself, glanced at the card, noticing that it bore a New York address. She remarked that Mr. Postil was a long way from home.
“Yes, I am spending my vacation in the Southwest,” he explained. “My granddaughter and I came out here to live at one of these dude ranches for a few weeks.”