“I—I’m here on business. Or I think I am,” he said soberly. “How’s your—Miss Dale! She doesn’t live here, does she?”
“Of course. Didn’t you know?” demanded Tavia, eyeing him curiously.
“No. Who—what’s this Major Dale to her, Miss Travers?” asked the young man and his heavy brows met for an instant over his nose.
“Her father, of course, Mr. Knapp. Didn’t you know Dorothy’s father was the only Major Dale there is, and the nicest man there ever was?”
“How should I know?” demanded Garry Knapp, contemplating Tavia with continued seriousness. “What is he—a real estate man?”
“Why! didn’t you know?” Tavia asked, thinking quickly. “Didn’t I tell you that time that he was a close friend of Colonel Hardin, who owned that estate you told me joined your ranch there by Desert City?”
“Uh-huh,” grunted the young man. “Seems to me you did tell me something about that. But I—I must have had my mind on something else.”
“On somebody else, you mean,” said Tavia, dimpling suddenly. “Well! Colonel Hardin left his place to Major Dale.”
“Oh! that’s why, then. He wants to buy my holdings because his land joins mine,” said Garry Knapp, reflectively.
Tavia had her suspicions of the truth well aroused; but all she replied was: