re never is, somehow, when I'm with you. And let's
talk about the black horse--it'll be soothing. Is the price of oats a
factor?"

Bob laughed a little, but did not proceed with the discussion. They
sauntered on in silence for a few minutes, Bob taking out his tobacco.

"Worried, aren't you?" he asked, lighting his pipe.

"Yes," she answered shortly.

"Was that what you wanted to say to me?"

"No, of course not; as if I should talk to you about it!"

"Don't suppose you would, no. Still, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Do you feel friendly to me?"

"Friendly! Well----!" He laughed. "What do you think about it yourself?"
he asked. "Look here, I don't bother you, but I'm here when you want
me."

"When I want you?"

"I mean, if I can do anything for you, or--or advise you. I don't think
I'm a fool, you know."

"I'm really glad to hear you've got as far as that," she remarked rather
tartly. "Your fault, Bob, is not thinking nearly enough of yourself."

"You'll soon change that, if you say much more." His pleasure in her
implied praise was obvious, but he did not read a single word more into
her speech than the words she uttered.

"And you are friendly to me--still?"

"It doesn't make any difference to me whether I see you or not----"

"What?" she cried. The next moment she was laughing. "Thanks, Bob,
but--but you've a funny way of putting things sometimes." She laid her
hand on his arm for a moment, sighing, "Dear old Bob!"

"Oh, you know what I mean," he said, puffing away. His healthy skin had
flushed a trifle, but that was his only reply to her little caress.

"If--if I came to you some day and said I'd been a fool, or been made a
fool of, and was very unhappy, and--and wanted comforting, would you
still be nice to me?"

His answer came after a puff and a pause.

"Well, if you ever get like that, I should recommend you just to try me
for what I'm worth," he said. Her eyes were fixed on his face, but he
did not look at her. Some men would have seen in her appeal an
opportunity of trying to win from her more than she was giving. The case
did not present itself in that light to Bob Broadley. He did not press
his own advantage, he hardly believed in it; and he had, besides, a
vague idea that he would spoil for her the feeling she had if he greeted
it with too much enthusiasm. What she wanted was a friend--a solid,
possibly rather stolid, friend; with that commodity he was prepared to
provide her. Any sign