“What for?” the girl asked quietly.
“Wal, y’ see—wal—it’s like this. He’s goin’ to be a rancher. Yes, don’t y’ see?” he asked, with a pitiful attempt at a knowing leer.
“No, I don’t.”
“Say, mebbe Arizona an’ me’ll git a nice little job—a nice little job. Eh?”
“You are talking nonsense, and you know it.”
“Eh? What?”
The little man stood abashed at the girl’s tone.
“You’re only saying all this to get me to sleep to-night, instead of sitting up. Well, I’m not going to. You thinking of mercenary things like that. Oh, Joe, it’s almost funny.”
Joe’s face flushed as far as it was capable of flushing.