of it. When I return, if I may, I will
come to you."

"Oh, will you?" She flushed and gently withdrew her hand. "That is,
unless you will be ashamed of me. I reckon I'll be kind of a shock to
city folks, the same as they'll be to me."

"Now it is you who are unjust!" he cried. "I shall always be proud of
your friendship, and remember these days in Limasito as the most
wonderful I have ever known----"

Thode checked himself once more.

"Good-bye, Billie. When next I see you, it will be Miss Willa Murdaugh
who will greet me, but it is Gentleman Geoff's Billie who will linger
in my thoughts always. Will you say once again what you said to me in
the lane: 'Buena suerte'?"

"Good luck, with all my heart, but not good-bye." She hesitated. "I
sha'n't see you to-morrow before we start?"

He shook his head.

"The whole town will be on hand to give you a send-off. I would not
intrude on the leave-taking of all your old friends, and besides I must
ride far out to-morrow," he prevaricated. "There is a lease I must
look into for the company over near La Roda. So it must be good-bye,
now."

"Not that, but hasta la vista!" She lifted her chin valiantly,
although her smile was a trifle wan. "That means 'until we meet
again', you know, and I feel somehow that it will be soon."

"I hope so, with all my heart!" With a swift, impetuous movement he
bent and kissed her hand. "Hasta la vista!"

Billie watched him until he disappeared down the avenue of flowering
trees, then, brushing her hand across her eyes, she turned and went
into the house.

Sallie Bailey looked up with a twinkle from the shirt she was patching.

"Well, carita, did he?" she demanded with much interest.

"Did he what?" Billie paused at the foot of the stairs.

"Did he--say anything?"

"Oh, a heap. I'm going to be a hit in society and forget all my
friends and everything down here and roll in that money like a pinto in
the pasture. I wish to goodness that I was dead!"

"No, you don't," Sallie retorted comfortably. "You're just beginning
to take notice, that's all, and so's he. He ain't saddle-broke yet and
he's gun-shy, but he'll get used to the report o' that money o' yours
in time. Men are a good deal like pintos; some you can coax and some
you can bully, but they all of 'em buck at the first gate. Don't you
worry your head about Mr. Kearn Thode, honey; wait till the next
round-up, and you'll have him roped, tied, and branded be