He had known so many women in his own set at home. He had admired, he had flirted harmlessly enough, he had shed presents and given parties, but somehow he felt that amongst all those society beauties there had not been one comparable to this wild rose of the foothills.
"Say, it's a bright team an' 'll need handlin'," said the doubtful voice of the livery man.
"Don't worry," returned Gordon, shocked into the affairs of the moment by the anxious voice.
"Good." The man sounded relieved.
"Which is the best way?"
"Why, chase the trail straight away west. You can't miss it. I'll take that ten dollars."
Gordon paid and climbed into the buggy. The next moment the vehicle rolled out of the barn.