“How far is it?”
“’Bout twenty-five miles, and then some.”
“You don’t expect to walk, do you?”
“No; I allowed—”
“I’ll take you back to the ranch, where you can get another horse.”
“I reckon, ma’am, I’d ruther walk.”
“Nonsense! Why?”
“I ain’t used to them gas wagons.”
“It’s quite safe. There is nothing to be afraid of.”
Reluctantly he got in beside her, as happy as a calf in a branding pen.