Eagerly Polly turned toward him. "See anything of Bud Lane?" she queried.
"No." Again Jack smiled—this time at the girl's impetuosity.
"He'll lose his job with me if he don't call more regular," she said.
"Say, Jack, you ain't fergettin' what you promised—to help Bud with the money that you said was comin' in soon, as Dick's share of a speculation you and him was pardners in? I'm powerful anxious to get him away from McKee."
Jack had not forgotten the promise, but, alas, under the goading of Mrs. Allen that he should clear off the mortgage on his home, he had used Dick Lane's money for this purpose. In what a mesh of lies and broken promises he was entangling himself! Now he was forced further to deceive trusting little Polly in the matter that was dearest to her heart.
"No, Polly, but the fact is—that speculation isn't turning out so well, after all."
The disappointed girl turned sadly away, and went out to Mrs. Allen in the kitchen.
Jack removed his belt and gun and hung them on the rack by the door. Spying his father at the corral, he called to him to come into the house.
"Hello, Jack!" was Allen's greeting as he entered, shaking the younger man's hand.
"When did you come over?"