But Gordon was not easily put off. He edged his horse closer to her side.
"But you are worried," he declared doggedly. Then he added more lightly, "I'll take a chance on it. It's—a man. And he's got a sort of whitewash face, and black, shoe-shined hair. He's got a nose you'd hate to run up against with any vital part. As for his clothes, well—a blind man would hate to see 'em."
The girl turned sharply.
"What makes you think that way?"
Gordon smiled triumphantly.
"Guess I've been trying to impress you with the fact that foolishness—like beauty—is only skin deep. The former applies to me. The latter—well, I guess I must have just read about—that."
"If you're not careful you'll convince me," Hazel laughed.
"That's one of the things I'm yearning to do."
"You're talking of David Slosson," she challenged him.
Gordon nodded.