Then nervously and timidly she set herself to rights, finally consenting to allow Jim and Phil to escort her to the smithy.
“You wait here!” instructed Jim at the corner of the block. “We’ll go and break the news to Sol. We’ll come back for you.
“Give me that picture, though. I have a word to say in his ear about that.”
Betty opened her bag, gazed fondly on Jim’s photo, then at him, before she slowly delivered it up.
Phil went into the smithy, hung up his coat, put on his apron and started in to work.
Jim followed him a few minutes later.
Sol Hanson was busy shoeing a horse. Jim went over to him.
“Here, Sol,” he cried, “come over and see this.”
The good-natured big fellow stopped his work and followed Jim to the dust-begrimed window.
Jim stuck the photograph under Sol’s nose.