Armstrong and his men went home directly the sale was over, but Stranleigh remained until all the legal business was finished, and the documents were in his possession. As he rode back to the ranch, he meditated upon the situation in which he found himself. The object of his trip to the West had been achieved. He had left New York tired of its noise, its heated pavements and other uncomfortable disadvantages. He had thought he would never care to see the metropolis again, but now he was yearning for the atmosphere of a large city; London for choice. He determined to bid farewell at once to the Armstrongs and the bunk house men, then turn his face eastwards.
Miss Armstrong was amazed to learn his decision.
“But you haven’t had even one day’s shooting!” she protested.
“Oh, I’ll come for that another time,” he assured her.
“Before you go away, my father would like to make some arrangement with you about this ranch.”
“I shall be very glad to come to an agreement with him.”
The girl sped up to the silver mine, where her father was superintending the removal of the dynamite to its proper place, a job requiring some little care. Armstrong accompanied his daughter down to the house, and greeted Stranleigh with eagerness.
“I am anxious to lease this place from you, Mr. Stranleigh, with the option of buying it later on. I am sure I can make money from the silver mine.”
“You must apply to the owner of the ranch, Mr. Armstrong.”
“The owner!” echoed Armstrong, in some alarm. “You haven’t sold the ranch since I saw you, I hope?”