"Reckon you ain't ridin' this mawnin'. You sure look powerful fine, Miss Lenore, but you can't ride in thet dress."
"Jake, nothing but an aeroplane would satisfy me to-day."
"Want to fly, hey? Wal, excuse me from them birds. I seen one, an' thet's enough for me.… An', changin' the subject, Miss Lenore, beggin' your pardon—you ain't ridin' in the car much these days."
"No, Jake, I'm not," she replied, and looked at the cowboy. She would have trusted Jake as she would her brother Jim. And now he looked earnest.
"Wal, I'm sure glad. I heerd Nash call an' ask you to go with him. I seen his eyes when he said it.… Sure I know you'd never look at the likes of him. But I want to tell you—he ain't no good. I've been watchin' him. Your dad's orders. He's mixed up with the I.W.W.'s. But thet ain't what I mean. It's—He's—I—"
"Thank you, Jake," replied Lenore, as the cowboy floundered. "I appreciate your thought of me. But you needn't worry."
"I was worryin' a little," he said. "You see, I know men better 'n your dad, an' I reckon this Nash would do anythin'."
"What's father keeping him for?"
"Wal, Anderson wants to find out a lot about thet I.W.W., an' he ain't above takin' risks to do it, either."
The stable-boys and men Lenore passed all had an eager good morning for her. She often boasted to her father that she could run "Many Waters" as well as he. Sometimes there were difficulties that Lenore had no little part in smoothing over. The barns and corrals were familiar places to her, and she insisted upon petting every horse, in some instances to Jake's manifest concern.