“I waited for you before without asking, and I reckon I can do it again! I’m––I’m wonderfully happy––for I didn’t want you to worry over coming home broke––and–––”
“Whisper, Lark-child. I’m not!”
“What?”
“Whisper, I said,” and he put one hand over her mouth and led her over to the little gray burro. “Now, not even to Pike until we get home, Billie,––but I’ve come out alive with the goods, while every other soul who knew went ‘over the range’! Buntin’ carries your share. I knew you were sure to find the sheepskin map sooner or later,” he lied glibly, “but luck didn’t favor me hanging around for it. I had to get it while the getting was good, but we three are partners for keeps, Buntin’ is yours, and I’ll divide with Pike out of the rest.”
Billie touched the pack, tried to lift it, and stared.
“You’re crazy, Kit Rhodes!”
“Too bad you’ve picked a crazy man to marry!” he laughed, and took off the pack. “Seventy-five pounds in that. I’ve over three hundred. Lark-child, if you remember the worth of gold per ounce, I reckon you’ll see that there won’t need to be any delay in clearing off the ranch debts,––not such as you would notice! and maybe I might qualify as a ranch hand when I come back,––even if I couldn’t hold the job the first time.”
“O Kit! O Cap! O me!” she whispered chantingly. “Don’t you dare wake me up, for I’m having the dream of my life!”
But he caught her, drew her close and kissed her hair rumpled in the desert wind.
And as the wagon drew into the circle of light, that was the picture Doña Jocasta saw from the shadows of the covered wagon:––young love, radiant and unashamed!