"A blot in it," he suggested. "A hop-toad splashing in the puddle."
The every-ready dimples flashed out at this. "You did make quite a splash when you went in. The fish must have thought it was a whale."
"And when I told you the water was fine, and you came in, too, they probably took you for a naiad."
She thanked him with an informal little nod.
"I thought you Anglo-Saxons did not give compliments."
"I don't," he immediately answered.
"Oh! If that isn't another one, I'm mistaken, sir." She turned indifferently away, apparently of the opinion that she had been quite friendly enough to this self-possessed young stranger.
Rewinding the lariat, she fastened it to the saddle, then swung to the seat before he could step forward to aid her.
"I hope you will suffer no bad effects from your bath," he said.
"I shall not; but I'm afraid you will. You were in long enough to get thoroughly chilled. Adios, señor."