“And the kid knew. ‘Woman!’ she exclaims, very promptly. You can laugh! I think I have that human trait very well developed. I am fond of the boys. They’re lots more fun than girls—present company excepted, of course, Doro. But I’m never thoughtful about others, and you are.”
“Serious talk from Miss Flyaway Travers,” said Dorothy, lightly, yet pleased that her chum should really display some gravity. “Don’t you show too much fondness for Lance Petterby to-day—now mind!”
Tavia was lively and irresponsible enough when they came to the cowpuncher’s camp. He had built a lean-to shelter and was comfortably fixed—so he said. Once a week he was relieved for a day by one of the Mexicans whom Hank could trust, and on that day Lance had always appeared at the ranch-house.
“Why, ladies, I shore am glad tuh see yuh,” was the big cowpuncher’s welcome.
“I know,” said Tavia, nodding. “If you suffered from ophthalmia you’d be cured.”
“Huh? I reckon so,” agreed Lance, “though I ain’t jest next to that ‘opthmy’ word.”
“She means if your eyes were inflamed the sight of us would cure them,” explained Dorothy, smilingly.
“Ain’t she the great little josher?” quoth Lance, admiringly. “I never see a gal like her.”
“And you won’t want to again,” said Tavia, pertly. “Now! confess.”
“Yuh got me there, Miss,” said Lance. “One of yuh at a time is jest enough. Two like yuh would drive a man plumb distracted.”