He laughed, a little uneasily, as though he preferred to make light of the whole matter.
“Really, I have hardly decided, the world is so wide, and I had no reason to suppose you interested.”
“But I am interested,” resenting his tone of assumed indifference. “I would not want to feel that our acquaintance was to wholly end now.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Why should I not? You have been a real friend to me; I shall remember you always with a gratitude beyond words. I want you to know this, and that—that I shall ever wish to retain that friendship.”
Keith struggled with himself, doubtful of what he had best say, swayed by unfamiliar emotions.
“You may be sure I shall never forget,” he blurted forth, desperately, “and, if you really wish it, I'll certainly see you again.”
“I do,” earnestly.
“Then, I'll surely find a way. I don't know now which direction we will ride, but I'm not going very far until I clear up that murder out yonder on the trail; that is my particular job just now.”
Before she could answer, Mrs. Murphy reëntered, and forced her to drink the concoction prepared, the girl accepting with smiling protest. The landlady, empty glass in hand, swept her eyes about the room.