“Well,” he admitted. “I haven’t been away from there long myself. I thought you were from the East by your accent.”
“You’re a regular fortune teller,” she replied, smiling; and he laughed.
“Now, you take my pony and ride along to the ranch,” he said. “It’s only a short walk for me—by cutting across the hill yonder. You can return the mount to-morrow, or any time convenient. Meanwhile, I’ll keep an eye out for your horse.”
She demurred at first, but Nash insisted; so it ended by the girl being helped into the saddle.
“I’m so interested in this—this aqueduct,” she said, after he had finished looking over the saddle straps.
“Then you must come over to the camp—any day—and I’ll show you around,” he said. “I am always glad to interest myself in others who are interested in what I’m doing.”
“Are you—the—boss?” she asked.
“I’m the foreman,” he answered. “Naturally I take a great deal of pride in the work of construction.”
For the instant, as he looked at her, he fancied he detected a new light—a cold, different light—come into her eyes; and he could have sworn her hands were trembling as they rested on the pony’s neck.
“Then—then you are Mr. Nash?” she said presently.