“Here I am, talking about myself again,” declared Mr. Postil. “I’ve not given you an opportunity to tell me a thing about yourself.”
Connie had not meant to reveal any of her personal troubles, but she found the old gentleman a most sympathetic listener. He interposed a question here and there and before she knew it he had learned the entire story of her financial difficulties.
“I don’t believe you need to worry any more,” Mr. Postil said briskly. “How much is your bank loan?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean——”
“I know you didn’t, young lady,” smiled Mr. Postil, “but it happens that I owe you a great debt for saving the life of my grandchild. Doris means more to me than anything in the world. Now I’ll be only too happy to give you enough money——”
“Oh, no,” broke in Connie. “I couldn’t take a penny.”
“Call it a loan then.”
Connie was sorely tempted but she shook her head.
“I really think I’ll be able to weather the storm unaided,” she insisted. “With the seven hundred and fifty dollars I won today, I’ll fix the ranch up a bit and advertise for summer boarders. Then if the bank learns I am going ahead in a profitable way, my note may be extended.”
Mr. Postil asked Connie many questions about Rainbow Ranch. With no conscious attempt to exaggerate she described the wonderful fishing streams and the lake.