“That’s nothing,” Westy said aloud, “there are plenty like that lying around loose in the world, and he’s just a boy yet. He’ll get over it—I hope. I bet he would go up there some time just to show me he was real brave and all the time he would be afraid himself. Lots of heroes have been made of that kind of stuff, too.
“I’ll whistle again when I get near the place so he won’t think I’m sneaking up on him. Maybe he’ll have told Lola he’s sore and don’t want to see me and beat it down the brook, when he hears me. I won’t let on anything about it if she asks me. I got a good excuse for going there, anyway; Mr. Wilde told me to.”
He came to a queer-shaped pine tree that was now familiar in marking the last few hundred feet before coming to the Redmond clearing. He started to whistle and slowed down his gait.
Presently Lola came to the opening and waved to him gayly. He returned the greeting and smiled inwardly to think that Rip was doing the very thing that he expected he would do, and there she was smiling just as though she knew nothing about it. She wanted to be loyal to both of them, Westy mused, and that was the right thing to do.
“’Lo, Westy,” she said, beaming. “It’s nice to see you this early. Now what could have brought you, I wonder?”
Just like a woman, Westy thought. Giving herself dead away.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Westy answered indifferently. “Mr. Wilde told me to run over and keep you folks company.”
“Isn’t that just like him! Do you know, Westy, my grandmother and I are going to miss you all very much when you leave here.” She looked away wistfully: “I’d like to see what other cities look like!”
“Have you ever been away from here, Lola?” Westy asked.
“Only to Santa Fe three times; just on short visits. Father took me before he went to France, but I have never been any further. I’ve seen pictures of cities much bigger than Santa Fe; still I was terribly thrilled when I went there!”