“Well,” Nash returned, in mock seriousness, “perhaps I can give you a job. It would be a novelty for our camp, at least.”
They laughed. Presently the girl’s horse was brought around to the door.
“Maybe you’d like to take a little inspection trip with me?” he suggested. “I generally make the rounds about this hour.”
She gladly assented.
Nash had the saddle adjusted.
“Do you know,” he said abruptly, just before helping her into the saddle, “you haven’t told me your name?”
“Miss Breen,” she told him. “I really should have introduced myself yesterday. I was too upset, I guess.”
They jogged along the main street of the camp, and then struck sharply up the winding trail, reaching the summit of the hill after a ten-minute climb. From this point of vantage a five-mile view of the conduit construction was visible.
“There!” he said, drawing rein and sweeping his hand up and down the valley. A little, amazed cry escaped her lips.
“Oh, it’s wonderful, isn’t it?”