Ben picked up the blanket and returned it to his saddle; then he led the horse to the girl's side. "Can I help you up?"
His companion nodded. The youth held down his hand, and upon it Florence mounted to the saddle as she had done many times before. The thought came to her that it might be the last time.
Not a word did Ben speak as they rode back to the ranch-house; not once did he look at his companion. At the door he held out his hand.
"Good-bye," he said simply.
"Good-bye," she echoed feebly.
Ben made his adieu to Mrs. Baker, and then rode out to the barn where Scotty was working. "Good-bye," he repeated. "We'll probably not meet again before you go." The expression upon the Englishman's face caught his eye. "Don't," he said. "I'd rather not talk now."
Scotty gripped the extended hand and shook it heartily.
"Good-bye," he said, with misty eyes.
The youth wheeled the buckskin and headed for home. Florence and her mother were still standing in the doorway watching him, and he lifted his big sombrero; but he did not glance at them, nor turn his head in passing.