"I understand, my dear. Oh, but isn't that sunset gorgeous?—to change the subject," and she laughed at the serious expression on Ruth's face.
The scene was indeed beautiful. The mesa seemed to be suffused by a purple glow, while, farther off, the foothills, from which it was separated by a level expanse, were in a golden haze. The mesa stood up boldly, almost like some giant toadstool, save that the stem was thicker. There was an overhang to the top, or table part, though, that carried out the resemblance.
"I should think that would be difficult of access," observed Mr. DeVere.
"There's an easy way up on the other side," returned Baldy. "The Indians always use that side. It's a narrow path to the top."
The cowboys, their work over for the day, were indulging in some of their pastimes—rough riding, feats in throwing the lariat, jumping, wrestling and the like.
"Don't you want to go with them?" asked Alice of their escort.
"No, Miss, I—I'd rather be with you," Baldy replied, simply, but he blushed even under his coat of tan.
"Now who's to blame?" asked Ruth in a low voice of her sister, as she regarded her with a quizzical smile.
"I can't help it if he likes me," murmured the younger girl.
In fact both Ruth and Alice were favorites with all the cowboys, who were always willing to perform any little service for them. The other members of the moving picture company, too, were well liked; but Ruth and Alice seemed to come first. Perhaps it was because they were both so natural and girlish, and took such an interest in the life and doings at Rocky Ranch.