But it was neither his clothing, nor his horsemanship which concerned Molly at that moment. It was his good-looking face, the sturdy breadth of his shoulders, and the fine muscles of his arms which stirred her simple heart so deeply.
She ducked under the rail and came to him.
“Why,” she laughed slily, “my mind was fixed directly I quit you.”
Andy shook his head.
“But not before. You left me guessing,” he said reproachfully. Then he glanced swiftly about him. “Where’s Lightning?”
Never in her life had laughter more impelled Molly. She felt somehow she wanted to laugh all the time.
“Out on the ploughing,” she cried. “He’s breaking a new five acres.”
Andy pulled an envelope from the pocket of his shirt. He opened it and drew out the contents. And the while he was watching the play of interest and expectancy on the girl’s expressive face. He passed her the gaudily got up tickets, and waited while she read down the letter press.
“Fi’ dollars!” she breathed in consternation, as she came to the price of the ticket. Then she looked up incredulously. “You paid fi’ dollars for each? Fi’ dollars for—me? Oh, Andy!”
The man laughed.