"No, young man," said she, "I ain't engaged, but I told ma I bet I would be before I got to Californy."
By this time my protector had returned; but, seeing a woman, and a young woman at that, in his seat, he coolly ignored my imploring looks and passed out into the next car.
"I'm going on the platform to smoke," he whispered.
"Be you engaged?" continued my new companion.
"No, miss," I stammered.
"Ain't that lucky?" she giggled. "Who knows but what we may make up our minds to hitch horses afore we get to Californy!" and she eyed me all over without a bit of bashfulness, and seemed to admire me. My goodness! this was worse than Alvira Slimmens!
"But I'm only going a few hours farther, and I'm not a marrying man, and I'm bound for the Indian country," I murmured.
She remained silent a few moments, and I stole a side-glance at her. She was a sharp-looking girl; her hair was cut short, and in the morocco belt about her waist I saw the glitter of a small revolver. Before I had finished these observations she turned suddenly toward me, and her black eyes rested fully on me as she asked:
"Stranger, do you believe in love at first sight?"
"No—no, indeed, miss; not for worlds!" I murmured, startled.