Peggy looked up quickly, blinking the tears from her eyes, staring at Laura.
“Gone?” she asked.
“My dear, he went away after he asked you to tell him good-by,” said Laura. “Didn’t you know he went away?”
“I didn’t know, Laura.”
Peggy got to her feet and went to the side porch-railing. Far down the road toward the river bridge was a little cloud of dust which showed the passing of Joe Rich. Peggy turned and looked at Laura, but neither of them spoke. Joe Rich had gone away without even a good-by from the girl who still loved him; so there was nothing left to say.
Uncle Hozie Wheeler and Lonnie Myers were heading for the HJ ranch. They had crossed the railroad right-of-way at an old wagon-road crossing and struck the HJ road about half a mile west of the Tumbling River bridge. One of the boys had heard that Peggy was going East, and Aunt Emma rushed Hozie right down there to see whether there was any truth in the report. Uncle Hozie didn’t care for the solitary ride; so he took Lonnie along. Lonnie was long, lean, and sad of face, thin-haired and inclined to freckle. He was prone to sing sad songs in a quavering tenor and, besides that certain talent, had a developed sense of humor.
“That’s wimmin for yuh, Lonnie,” declared Uncle Hozie. “All she had to do was to hear that Peggy figures on goin’ away, and she chases us down here. Prob’ly wants to put her up a lunch. Ma’s funny thataway. If you’ve got good sense, you’ll stay single, Lonnie. Of course, there ain’t liable to nobody pick yuh. You ain’t e-legible.”
“What’s that, Hozie?”
“E-legible? Oh, that’s a p’lite word, Lonnie. It means that you wouldn’t be worth a lot to anybody. It means that nobody wants to hook a sucker when the bass are bitin’.”
“Oh, yeah. Joe Rich was e-legible, wasn’t he, Hozie?”