She tugged at the third finger of her left hand and gave him back his ring.
“I’m all through with you,” she declared chokingly. “I will never trust a man again. Take back your fickle ring.”
Sadie turned and hurried toward home, while behind her came Slim, looking all spraddled out, as he tried to catch her and explain. But Sadie walked erratically down the narrow sidewalk, which kept Slim jumping from side to side; much to the amusement of every one who observed it.
Sadie beat him to the gate, fastened it from the inside, and faced him—a picture of outraged womanhood.
“Go back!” Sadie pointed dramatically. “Get on your horse and follow the maid. I want no more of you!”
Slim went. There was no good reason why he should stay. Back there on the sunny side of the depot, where the thermometer registered one hundred and ten degrees in the shade, Slim sat in the sun, and cogitated over the vagaries of women.
The incident passed from the mind of Alicia Steele. It was only one wink among many. If her wink brought a thrill to that fat cowboy, he was welcome to it. Two miles out of San Rego the train lurched to another stop.
Half an hour later the conductor, perspiring, dusty, came to the Lake Louise and informed James Worthington Steele that half the axle-boxes on the train were on fire, and they would have to be delayed another hour.
James Worthington Steele mopped his brow and swore. It was imperative that he move on.